Unfortunately your back goes out before they can say

"Owe? Oh!" you yelp, hissing as something pops in your back.

"Yes owe, you don't need to say it twice," Sam says, oblivious to the pain burning in your back.

"M... my back," you grimace. "I think... I think I did something to it."

The men look at each other blankly, staring at you as you try to hold yourself still, grimacing all the while.

"Uh, well, a little ice?" Sam offers.

"You know..." Bill starts slowly, as if he's planning or thinking heavily, "I have a bad back."

"You do?" Tom says, almost sounding like he's asking a question. You know that's absurd, given that they'd already told you that Bill has a bad back and Sam has a bum knee. Maybe it's the pain in your back making you hear things.

"You do," Sam says firmly, giving Tom a hard look.

"I know a thing or two about these things," Bill says, and scoots between your wide-spread legs. A gasp escapes you as his knee jams up against the beer bottle, forgotten with the neck impaled inside you, the thickest part just beginning to enter you when the guys had stopped pressing on it.

"Hey Tom, sit behind her. Put some forward pressure on her."

"W... will that help?" you gasp as a small flare of pain travels up your back. Having Tom pressing against you doesn't seem to be helping at all.

"It'll keep you in place while I pull," Bill says, and puts his hands on your hips, pulling your lower body toward him. "Tom, you'd better grab hold, she's sliding toward me."

"Huh? Right," Tom says, and promptly grabs your breasts in an iron grip. Given that you're lying down there's even less to grab than normal, leaving mostly your thick nipples in his grip but he gathers as much of your flesh between his fingers as he can, making you yelp.

"Here we go. You pull and I pull."

Both men hold their positions, but with the sweat and saliva making you slick they keep slipping, until Sam comes up with an idea.

"How about if I grab her legs and pull?" he offers.

"Brilliant!" Bill says, even as you sputter out a protest. Having Tom mauling your breasts is bad enough.

When they all start pull again you have to admit that it does relieve your back pain a little, but they seem to have forgotten all about the beer bottle between your legs. With Bill's knee jammed up against it Sam's pulling just makes it slide farther within your slippery depths, the cold rigid glass forcing your insides apart in a stretch that not even Jacob could achieve.

"Almost there," Bill grunts, and your eyes fly to him. "Uh, almost put enough tension on your back, I mean."

"I don't.... ow.... could you move..."

"Almost there," he interrupts again, and you grimace, both at the sensations in your back and the feeling of the bottle sinking deeper and deeper within you. "There! I mean, how's that feel, Jenny?"

"It... it feels the same," you whimper.

"Huh. Maybe I'd better drive her to the hospital," Sam offers.

Bill nods, "Let's take her to Franco. He'll want some of, uh, part of, uh, to help."

Sam grins down at you re-assuringly, or at least you assume that's what it's meant to be. It looks more mischievious, really, but given the situation you're sure that's just your imagination.

"We'll be there in no time, Jenny," he assures you, and hops out of the truck, lowering the door most of the way. Moments later you feel the rumble of the engine and the truck starts to move.

"Franco'll fix you up," Bill assures you, and starts prattling on about various pranks involving the group and Franco while you wince at every crack in the road.

At long last the truck slows to a stop and the door pops open.

"We're here," Sam announces.