The Life-Saving Exercise

Jan clapped his hands and announced the next ‘task’.

‘Right, Lisa, next task. We’re going to do a realistic first-aid demonstration. Chest compressions and mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. That fits perfectly with the spa theme – safety and first aid. You’ll be the rescuer.’

He pointed to a man who was already lying on a large mat on the floor. He was a friend of Jan’s, about 30 years old, athletic, with short dark hair. He was wearing only red swimming trunks.

“That’s Marc. He’s playing the **** person. You’ll do the whole procedure: chest compressions and mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. Just like you’re taught.”

I nodded. I was familiar with first aid. “Okay, no problem.”

I knelt down on the mat next to Marc. About 50 men stood in a semicircle around us, many wearing red goggles. The atmosphere was attentive, almost reverent.

I began with the chest compressions.

I placed both hands, one on top of the other, in the centre of his chest and pressed rhythmically and firmly. My upper body moved with the motion. The red bikini stretched over my breasts, which bounced slightly with every press.

“30 compressions…,” I counted aloud, just as we’d been taught.

Then I leaned over him for mouth-to-mouth resuscitation.

I opened his mouth slightly, pinched his nose shut, pressed my lips firmly against his and blew in strongly twice. My face was very close to his. My breasts pressed against his chest as I moved.

I did a second round of chest compressions, then mouth-to-mouth again.

Marc lay completely still – except for one thing.

I noticed it after the third breath.

A clear erection was visible beneath his red swimming trunks. The fabric was stretched tight. Marc tried to stay calm, but I could see his cock pulsing and growing larger.

I blushed. “Oh no…,” I thought. “Not now.”

I tried to play it down. During the next breath, I discreetly waved my hand towards his trousers, as if to shoo away a fly or ‘accidentally’ smooth out the fabric. But it didn’t help – the erection only became more obvious.

Some of the men around us were grinning. A few were whispering.

I carried on, professionally, or so I thought. I pressed rhythmically on his chest, leaned deep over him, pressed my lips firmly against his and blew air into his mouth. My breasts kept brushing against his upper body.

To me, it looked like a perfectly normal first-aid exercise – just a bit embarrassing because of his erection, which I tried to ignore.

To the men with the red glasses, it looked completely different.

They saw a completely naked Lisa kneeling over a naked man. Her heavy, bare breasts bounced with every chest compression. She leaned deep over him, pressed her bare lips against his and blew air into his mouth – it looked like passionate kissing. With every breath, her bare breasts rubbed against his upper body. When she tried to ‘brush the erection away’, it looked as though she were caressing his hard, bare cock and running her hand over it.

The pose looked as though a naked woman were seducing a naked man on the floor – with deep kisses, breast to breast, and rhythmic movements of her body.

Jan kept taking photos and muttered contentedly: “That’s exactly what we wanted. More interaction, more story.”

I finished the exercise, stood up and smiled somewhat sheepishly at the group.

“And that was the correct resuscitation…,” I said in a slightly trembling voice.

The men applauded. Many of those wearing red glasses whistled and shouted my name particularly loudly.

I thought: “That was a bit awkward because of the erection… but I handled it professionally.”

The men in glasses were thinking something quite different:

They had just watched a naked Lisa kissing a naked man on the floor, rubbing her breasts against him and ‘caressing’ his erection whilst moving rhythmically on top of him.

Jan nodded approvingly.

“Very good, Lisa. That was full of life. Keep it up.”

I stood there, my face flushed, my nipples hard beneath my bikini, and felt how wet I’d become.

I had no idea how depraved the scene looked to the others.