Read Picture Perfect for Free Online

memory lane.
    She looked down in surprise. “Hands? You like ?” she asked.
    “Yes, I like,” I said, unconsciously falling into her pattern of speech. “A very dear friend of mine used to give me the most marvellous massages with hands very much like yours.”
    “Massage?” Maria said, delighted. “ Me massage too. Was taught when young. Me very good, so is said. Do Master Roger now and then.”
    “Really?” I asked. I hesitated. “Would you do me sometime?” I asked wistfully, caught up in the threads of my Moonbeam memories.
    “Do now ,” she declared firmly, putting down the bowl.
    “Now?” I stammered. “But it’s early morning. What about your work ?”
    “Can do anytime,” she confirmed, putting an insistent hand on my arm. “You come. Make feel better. Massage fix everything.”
    In a daze, I permitted Maria to lead me to her room. It was quite large and contained a massage table off to one side. She stood by me and made undressing motions with her hands. “Take all off,” she informed me, turning away and searching a shelf packed with oils. “Me relax you good.”
    I unbuttoned my dress and hung it over a nearby chair. “ All off?” I asked questioningly.
    She turned back to me, clutching a bottle of golden oil. “All,” she commented concisely. “Oil get on underwear. Very messy. No good.”
    “I see your point,” I murmured, slipping out of my remaining clothes.
    “Lie on table,” Maria commanded, pouring some of the oil onto her hands and rubbing them together.
    I complied and lay face down. The massage table was comfortable, if a little cold. I closed my eyes and relaxed. I felt Maria’s oil-softened hands touch my back and gently work their way along my spine and then branch out to run along the muscle pathways. I sighed and relaxed even more. God, I loved massages! And Maria was as good as she claimed. Her fingers discovered tight areas and dug out any tensions with carefree abandon. I was turning into a blob of jelly. Even her massage technique reminded me of Moonbeam. If I concentrated enough, I could almost believe that I was back in Moonbeam’s bed, with her straddled over me, pressing on my back muscles, alternating her actions with kisses to the side of my face.
    Maria interrupted my pleasurable reverie. “Turn, please. Do front now.”
    I complied and she began to rub my stomach in a circular pattern, working her way around my breasts and up to my neck. Then she started on my legs.
    “You very pretty,” she whispered. “Have boyfriend?”
    “No,” I admitted, wishing that I had.
    Maria kneaded my thigh muscles and looked up at me intently. “ Girlfriend , maybe?” she asked.
    “Not right now,” I smiled, still remembering my beautiful and loving Moonbeam.
    Maria slid her hands down my legs and began to work on the soles of my feet and the toes. It felt delicious , if such a description could be used. I closed my eyes in bliss.
    “You are so good at this,” I told Maria.
    “Practice long time,” she informed me. “Want be expert. Maybe have career. Not maid forever.”
    “You’re well on the way,” I breathed, surrendering to her soothing manipulations. “You’re an expert already. I can vouch for that.”
    “That good. Thank very much,” she replied, gliding her hands back up my legs. I felt a small tingling of anticipation as she neared my thighs. Oh , I thought, and just what are you thinking , Kim? The memories of Moonbeam must have stirred more than simple images. My goodness, I’d better watch myself here or I’ll say or do something I’ll regret later on. I clenched my mental muscles until Maud had bypassed the danger area and completed a final sweep of my upper body.
    “All done,” she announced. “Can dress now.”
    I rolled off the massage table, feeling so relaxed I could barely stand.
    “Stay still,” Maria commanded and returned with a roll of paper towels and commenced to sponge the excess oil off my body. “Make clothes sticky