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Celeste and I really thought we could get away with it. We frequented places where Vito and his boys never went. We made out in a motel some 60 miles out of town, under the names of Mr. and Mrs. Jack Orff. How was I to know that Vito's brother owned the place ?
Then, the lights came on and , in front of me, smiling evilly, stood Vito Coglioni and I thought "Oh, shit." Vito unbuckled my belt tore my fly open, and pulled down my slacks and my briefs. Then, finally, Vito spoke to me. "Shit ! I don't see what Celeste sees there to like any better'n what I've got" Then he spoke to his three gorillas "OK, pants him and sit him on the floor in the corner."
There were three sounds in quick succession, two pops and a muffled scream as my balls bursted in an explosion of incredible excruciating agony. Pain like nothing I could ever have imagined shot up into my groins and my belly, down into my thighs, and back to my asshole. That pain alone can kill a man, but I wasn't that lucky. Vito twisted his foot from side to side, grinding my mangled sex glands into the floor. Before I lost consciousness, I was vaguely aware of Vito dialing my phone and then saying "There's a man badly hurt in suite 404 at the Belmont Towers."
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