Roland is Finally Given some Relief

Roland watched in awe as CJ leapt into the air, gripped the overhead support from which the cable attached to his shorts was suspended, and deftly swung both legs over the horizontal bar. He could feel her thighs on either side of his hips, the heat of her pussy pressed tight against the base of his erection. He knew that his cock was rigid, pointed up toward the waistband of his shorts; what he didn’t know was whether the head was poking out where his clothes were pulled away from his body. Well, he thought, there is no way it’s going down now.

However, with CJ’s weight added to the machine, Roland’s hips did lower slowly to the bench. It was such a relief to be able to lay flat on his back once more, and with the lifeguard’s knees bent over the bar, weighing it down, his shorts were safe from being torn off for now. He felt a little emotional at the sudden change in circumstance, he wanted to sit up and kiss her but of course that would have been terribly inappropriate. Especially considering he was wearing only his shorts, and that this gorgeous, buxom lifeguard was straddling his hips with his John Thomas hard and swollen between her firm thighs. Yes, it wouldn’t do to let this situation become inappropriate.

CJ instructed the first guy on the scene, the one who had all of this time been ready to unclip the weights, to stand clear. If anything happens, she said, those weights will come down hard and he shouldn’t be anywhere near the cradle. She ordered the two girls to try twisting and moving the bar, to see if they could free Roland’s shorts. The blonde herself began trying to unwind the bar on the shackle – it was this small ring of steel which seemed to be the centre of all of Roland’s woes, and she was determined to save him.

He flexed his fingers, stretching and relaxing his hands, finally allowing the tension to drain from his forearms now that he didn’t need to tightly grip his shorts. As he lay supine on the bench he allowed himself to look down at the girls working on his predicament. CJ sat right on his hips with her thighs either side of his hips. The gusset of her red swimsuit pressed against the base of his shaft – she must be able to feel it, surely? He could certainly feel the heat radiating from between her legs. Her arms tensed as she tried to unwind the shackle, squeezing her big round puppies together, displaying a wonderful, deep cleavage to him as she leaned forward.

The other girls pulled and twisted the bar, focussed intently on tugging at his shorts and underwear, trying to free his clothes. Never had he experienced one girl with her hands so close to his joystick, and now there were three beautiful women in skimpy clothes, hands moving around and over his erection, sometimes brushing against his chubby.

Obviously the circumstances could be better, but Roland knew he would think about this moment a lot when he was alone with his box of tissues and his bottle of lube. However, as embarrassing as this whole scenario was, and as shameful as he felt with his uncooperative stiffy at risk of discovery by the three hot girls working to rescue him, none of this could compare to his next problem: if they didn’t stop brushing and pressing against him the way they were, he was going to fill his shorts with gentleman’s relish soon, and on balance, he figured he would rather just be naked than to spunk in his underwear whilst CJ straddled him.

‘It’s no good,’ grunted the lifeguard as she sat up straight. ‘I can’t undo it.’ She asked the redhead to run behind the machine: there would be a toolbox which might help.

Inside the small black box were several unhelpful items: a tiny screwdriver, a bag of inspection labels, a needle and thread. Then the redhead produced a can of oil and CJ’s eyes lit up. ‘Oil! Yes, pass it over, a bit of lube will loosen this rod, then I can pull it off!’