Take charge, but takes things slow.

“It isn’t every client that offers to put the outcome in my hands,” Emmy hides her giggle with her fingers. “I would never forgive myself if I let a contractor leave without being fully released!”

She gestures to the table against the wall. “Since I will take charge, we shall swap the massaging table. It will be more, uhm, sort– suitable for our needs!” You help Emmy, somewhat (awkwardly since you’re already practically naked), with the new table and then lay on top of it. You try to get comfortable on the new table, but unlike the last one, this has no cushioning whatsoever. After fidgeting for a few seconds, you decide to give up and hope that Emmy does her job, regardless of whether it is sexual or not.

You’re facing the ceiling when Emmy suddenly slides into view. She’s holding onto a transparent bottle containing clear liquids. You watch her drench her hands with the substance and rub them together. You shudder at the noise it makes, and then you feel your heart starting to race. You let out a shaky breath but remained focused on Emmy.

Your eyes meet, and her smile widens. “Don’t worry. It’s just scented oil,” she continues to rub her hands together but then draws her left hand close to your nose, greeting you with a sweet strawberry scent. It’s candylike and inviting, but you worry it might be too feminine for you. However, you don’t voice your concerns.

When her hands touch you, you let out a small moan. Immediately, you know you’re in a treat. Her nimble fingers manage to find every knot, and she quickly unravels them, making the tension simply melt off wherever they are. You close your eyes, letting all the air in your lungs out. In seconds, you’re deflated, but in heaven. Emmy purrs above you. “And how are you feeling?”

“Heavenly,” you sigh. “You’ve got an amazing touch, Emmy.”

“Of course,” she says matter of factly. “It is in my job description, monsieur!”

“The only negative is this damn table,” you wiggle, but she presses you down. “It isn’t comfortable.”

“Mh,” she purses her lips together. “That simply will not do!”

Emmy begins to massage your sides. Again, the way her fingers travel around your body, working out all stress as they glide effortlessly down your torso. Despite your recent complaint about the tables, you find it easy to forget it as you focus on her hands on your body. Perhaps “Heavenly” didn’t do her work justice? She was beyond anything you felt before– even Astrid might have difficulty keeping up with this touch.

“Your husband or boyfriend must sleep like a rock if you get all this tension out of their system,” you suddenly say without meaning to.

You see her lips curl. “Non, I am new to zis’ place. And my English is hardly decent for such things.”

“Your English is good,” you assure her. “I’ve heard worse from some of the locals here. Trust me. You have nothing to worry about.”

Her expression tells you that she disagrees, but her keeps a gentle smile on her lips nonetheless. “Merci, Mais j’apprends.”

“I don’t follow,” you say, lightly suggesting that she translates herself. She giggles, rubbing your side with the palm of her hand before apologizing.

“I am still learning, monsieur. Sometimes I forgot zah, ah, little things,” she tries hard on the last word and pauses briefly. “Sometimes, I have to redo everyzing.”

Her accent bobs her words, and you can see that she’s becoming flustered because of it.

“You shouldn’t let your accent keep you from finding someone you love.”

“Mm?”

“Your accent makes you stick out,” you think for a second and then chase yourself with more. “In a good way. If someone all the way out here finds you attractive and gets to learn more about you, then it’s a good sign.”

“You have not dealt with the locals as much as I have,” she counters, gently working her up your chest. “Here, especially, it is very taboo for the others to mingle with zah outsiders.”

“I’ve noticed,” you sigh. “But, I mean– contractors too.”

She muses slightly, catching your glance. “Are you asking me out for a date?”

You blush and then let out a small laugh. “Depends. What would you say?”

“I would say I’d think about it,” she glances at your ever-increasing bulge and clears her throat. “I am working, after all.”

Emmy’s hands go over the same places as before, but despite that, it still feels different as she forces the last shreds of pressure out of your muscles. Her eyes are all over you, but she doesn’t seem to be lusting or gawking, just making sure she’s gotten every inch of your torso worked out.

Carefully, she trails her fingers along your ribs, gently rubbing with the pads of her digits, adding pressure wherever needed, working the fewer knots of spots of stress you didn’t even know you had. You can’t help but remark about her handiwork and thank her for loosening you up. Then, she looks at you. Her smile becomes white and toothy.

“Oui,” she closes her lips. “You mustn’t tell say zings to me. I know I am good. Turn around. I will get your shoulders now.”

When you turn over to give her more accessible access to your shoulders, you feel that it actually feels considerably better for you to be on your stomach. You exhale and close your eyes. “Finally…Comfortable at last!” You must fight the urge to moan as Emmy’s hands begin rubbing your shoulder blades and lower back. All the soreness slips from your muscles, and you feel the tension peeling off your nerves like a sunburn. You’re ready to protest when she pulls away, but then you feel her lathering your back in more of the oils. This time, you sighed without hesitation and let out a small moan– it was the least amount of feedback you owed her.

There’s some small talk in between, but the conversations always draw to a dead end. Emmy, however, always manages to come back to her job. She clears her throat and asks if she needs to make any adjustments. You wiggle slightly, unsure if you do, but then feel something hollow near your crotch.

You try to look down, but the table blocks most of your head movement. “I…I don’t think your table is in very good condition, Emmy,” you wiggle a little more and eventually feel your cock drop out from under you– your nutsack hangs low too. Then, you realize that this is a “feature” of the table you are on.

Emmy giggles slightly, her hands are still busy on your back, but she knows what has your words in knots. “Mm, no~!! I believe my table is in perfect condition. It is tip-top– ready for use. “Tu me comprends maintenant?” Emmy’s native tongue rolls off out of her mouth. It sounds smooth and seductive.

You express to her that you don’t understand, but all that does is make her laugh a little harder. “Oh, do not worry, monsieur. All you have to do is trust me for the time being. Easy, yes?”

Emmy continues to talk, but it’s all French, effectively making you not just confused but all horny. Her words fall out in velvety smooth and penetrate your ears like a love song. You close your eyes and listen to her as her low voice brings you a state of calmness. Your cock doesn’t remain flaccid or pointless as it hangs freely below you, however. Emmy’s massage has made it stiff– a solid wand of sexual purpose. It is throbbing, calling out for attention.

“Mh, I am curious about what you have waiting under this table for me,” Emmy says, her fingers tapping the structure of your spine, pushing out the last stress. She’s lowered her voice in a soothing whisper, but it’s all you can hear .“I heard from someone you came to town with another girl. Is she your girlfriend?”

“She isn’t anything,” you sigh, and then remember you were probably supposed to wake her up by now. “If my partner is what’s keeping you from touching my co-aa?!”

Your voice breaks and trails off as a familiar sensation meets your groin from a new hand. Beneath the table, you feel Emmy’s fingers wrap around your cock. She’s warm, and the oil she’s been using on your body makes her touch orgasmic. “Monsieur?” Emmy inquires, her voice somewhat mischievous.

There’s a pause in the conversation, and all you can hear are the fake waves on the overhead speakers and the muffled squishing noise of Emmy’s handjob coming out from under the table. Your length becomes drenched in the massage oils, but your words are instantly lost. “I hope you do not mind this, but you said I got to choose what I do wit you.”

With Emmy’s hand on your member, it’s easy to not just forget Scarlet but also Flora. Both girls are pushed to the back of your mind as your cock is now the main focus of this massage. Without the stress in your muscles, Emmy’s handjob feels incredible. The noses are surreal, and the experience is dream-like. “Oh, mon Dieu,” Emmy says with the same voice. “You’re so big~!”

You rest your forehead on the table and sigh, letting her nimble fingers take you closer to your orgasm. You ought to be sure which factors to appreciate in the situation you’ve found yourself in. Without the stress in your system, this feels like the best handjob a man could have received!

Her grip tightens and loosens at random, and she occasionally rubs your back to keep as many nerves stimulated as possible. “I love that said this is making. It’s so, so hot!”

When Emmy mentions the wet noises coming from her handjob, it becomes the only thing you can hear when she isn’t whispering her sweet nothings to you. You start throbbing in her grip, and she giggles cutely above you. Then, she leaves your shaft and tugs gently on your balls, playing with them.

“You’re driving me crazy, Emmy,” you hiss, only barely able to get the words out of your mouth. You can’t see her face, but in your head, you imagine she’s smiling. She doesn’t say anything, but you do feel her hand return to your shaft. The motions are quicker, and the grip is also tighter. Your mouth hangs open as you breathe. Finally, you exhale loudly and flex your dick.

Emmy remains professional. She jerks your faster, loosening her grip randomly and playing with your sack as it hangs. Occasionally, she retracts her hand and licks her fingers, slowly replacing the oils with her salvia. You feel her spit slide along your penis as her fingers train down your spine, still massaging you.

“I can do much more than this,” Emmy suddenly whispers near your ear. She licks around your earlobe and then giggles softly before planting a kiss behind your ear. “I don’t just do this, you know? I’ve been…doing this for a long, long time. I know how to make a man moan, even if he’s tough.”

You don’t say anything. You’re too busy focusing on what she’s doing to you. You don’t dare split any of your attention away from her efforts. Instead, you grin, and Emmy returns to your ear. “I may not be experienced with you personally, but I know that some things are universal with men.”

Emmy falls silent momentarily, and all that teases your ears are the sounds of her hands cranking your shaft. “Ooh~! Can you see your cock in my hands as I jerk you off? What a wonderful thing it would be if you could see it~!”

“I must comment on your endurance, monsieur! I am quite pleased that you’ve lasted this long,” she giggles again but is now further away from you. “I have known some men to have already climaxed. I might not mean much coming from a stranger, but I am impressed! Not to mention, you have one of the larger penises I’ve had the pleasure of touching~.”

“You’re something to behold,” you say, now feeling both of her hands on your cock. You don’t see what she’s doing or where she is, but it feels like she’d under the table now, working your shaft like a stubborn lever that won’t give out what she wants. “You have some talented fingers.”

“Despite being attracted to you when I first saw you, I thought you were going be lacking the ability to keep yourself from releasing,” Emmy’s voice sounds different. It’s much more distant, and you realize she is beneath you now, probably watching her hands slip and slide on your rock-solid dick. “And now zat I am seeing what I’ve been touching…I am wanting somezing more!”

Your words become unorganized briefly. You listen to her handiwork as you try to get them collected. “And what is it you’re thinking of doing to me now? Right now, I’m trusting you with–!?”

Again, your sentence gets cut prematurely. You feel your head get engulfed by something wet and smooth. It’s another familiar sensation, but it’s from someone new. It’s Emmy’s tongue lathering around you.

Emmy doesn’t say anything to you, but you figure she’s heard your words being halted while she uses her mouth to massage you too. You close your eyes and picture her under you with your cock above her and her mouth watering in anticipation of tasting you.

“These noises you make when I lick you are cute,” Emmy says, her voice coming out to greet you. She plays with your cock again, teasing your tip with soft kisses and suggestive passes with her tongue. You can hear her lips smack whenever she gets a small taste of your precum.

Your mind goes into overtime as it imagines the French girl under you blissfully working away on your meat. As Emmy forces all the blood to rush down to your cock, you can’t help but feel like you’ve grown another inch longer than usual. Emmy laughs. “Oh, my! Look at your penis! It’s waving at moi!”

Her lips press against your head, but instead of another kiss, you feel yourself slip between her mouth. Emmy’s tongue hungrily lashes your tip, gathering every drop of your precum like a whore hungry for substance. Your eyes shoot open, and your nerves tingle with lust. You can’t fight the moan that leaves your mouth.

It feels like Emmy is making out with your dick, and her hands aren’t idle, either. Whatever isn’t inside of her deepthroat is simply stroked or juggled. She isn’t shy to your length and doesn’t seem to have a gag reflex until the table prevents her from taking you any deeper into her maw. Emmy pants hard but doesn’t leave you unstimulated for even a moment. Your penis throbs for attention as it’s milked, and it gets exactly what it wants…

Time is lost, but you don’t waste a moment focusing on anything else besides Emmy’s mouth and warm hands. You’re so locked in on everything happening beneath you that you almost jolt excitedly when her tongue starts tasting your balls.

“How does zat feel?” Emmy asks, no longer whispering to you. Instead, she sounds heated and slightly ****.

Emmy jerks you off as she washes your balls individually. Then, however, she starts taking in both your nuts and lathers them, too, still giving your shaft the attention you didn’t know you needed until just then.

The wettest and sloppiest blowjob/handjob starts singing under the table. The fake sounds of the ocean are smothered in the authentic sounds of intimacy. You can feel every part of Emmy that’s upon you, setting fires of pleasure without your entire lower section. You wiggle slightly, but it doesn’t do anything to deter her from you. Instead, these small motions seem to encourage her to double her efforts…

You gasp, muttering her name as she starts deep-throating you again. The sloppy nature of her blowjob tests your ability to keep your climax at bay. Finally, you feel a hand retract from the action, and you imagine that she’s started to finger herself– that image burns inside your head.

There’s nothing to see, so you keep your eyes closed and your mind fixed on your sense of touch. Every second is savored. Every kiss, every stroke, and every second spent inside Emmy’s mouth is contained in a bubble of lust. You hear her mouth unlatching from your cock before you feel it. “You’re the best contractor I’ve ever had!”

You think for a moment, and then you speak. “You’re the best massage therapist I’ve ever had the pleasure to lay hands on me…” You murmur, your words probably getting lost in the sounds of oral sex. Her lips are coiled around your girth as they slip and slide around you.

“Tellement gros~!!” Emmy squeals. “Oui, Chéri! Ooh, Chéri!!”

You see her green eyes staring at your throbbing cock; her lips curled in a naughty smile as her perverted voice leaves her wet mouth, caressing her perfect pink lips as spittle and precum drop from them. Her fingers were deep in her drenched pussy, and her tongue savoring the taste of your salty precursor. Her cheeks are probably burning with lust, and the color of her eyes is ignited, resounding with the sexual desire for more. And then... it hits you. The climax you were desperately withholding from Emmy comes crashing through your body. There's no tension or gasp from your end (aside from your cock suddenly twitching,) you starting to unload over Emmy, showering her face in your spunk. Emmy's breath caresses your member with hot air for a few seconds before she emerges from the table.

Emmy is now stark naked, and your eyes widen at the sight of her rosy-pink body. Her pussy is drenched in her honey, and does indeed look played with. "Chéri!," she says sheepishly. "Please tell me you are not don't quiet yet. I would love to extend zis session for a little longer wiz you."