Massage Mat Pt. 02 Ch. 01

"Um, yes," she said giving it a dubious glance and wrinkling her nose. "It's been a while. Do you mind if I get myself ready?" she asked, lying on the bed and starting to masturbate.

Myles smiled, "I always loved watching you do that, remember?" Angie nodded, rubbing herself vigorously. She was already getting the faraway look that he remembered. Myles began to stroke himself as he watched her.

After a few more minutes, Angie said huskily, "Ok, big guy. I'm as ready as I'll ever be."

He mounted her and she guided him to the right spot. He tried to be gentle, but once he felt the contact of their genitals, instincts took over and he thrust into her firmly. She was a bit tight, but yielded with a cry and a gasp after just a few seconds. He slid deeply into her and she closed her eyes and bit her lip.

"Ahhh, fuck. Like riding a bicycle," Angie grunted.

"I was wondering if one of us was going to use that line," Myles replied. Then he saw the sadness in her face.

"Are you ok?" he asked.

"I don't know," she replied softly. "I feel like I want to cry."

"Should we stop?"

"No. I wouldn't do that to you—to us. I'll be ok, just get on with it," she sighed. Then she opened her eyes and saw the pain and confusion on his face. He was troubled, too.

"Myles, it's ok. Honest," she assured him. She smiled up at him. "Remember the time you got mad and said you were going to fuck some sense into me?" He smiled and nodded. "Well, I think you've got a second chance."

The pounding he gave her was one for the ages. When he finished, he fell back, exhausted. She rolled on top of him and held him as they both cried. She could feel his semen flowing out of her.

Beth came staggering back to the house, once again exhausted and bleeding. She was taken aback to see Angie and Myles sitting together in the kitchen, smoking cigarettes. Myles hopped up.

"The shower is all ready for you," he told her, and the bath is all set too. There are plenty of towels. And Angie brought some fresh clothes for you."

Angie stood and opened her arms, and Beth scooted into her embrace.

"I'm so happy to see you," they said almost at the same time. Beth sniffed warily at Angie.

"But you smell like smoke," she giggled. "Is he corrupting you?"

"Re-corrupting me," Angie said. "I used to smoke when we knew each other," she said, gesturing at Myles. "White trash, remember? I quit, though."

Beth whistled. "You must have been very different back then," she said.

"Very different is an understatement," Angie said. Beth was surprised to see a flash of—was it guilt—in her face as she said that. Angie paused and frowned. "Ok. Take a shower and I'll make a full confession. We need to clear this up." She gave Beth a kiss on the cheek.

Beth backed up and looked at her. "Hm," she said like a scientist pondering a crucial experiment. "If you're going to smoke, I'd better see if I can get used to this." She returned, this time giving Angie a deep kiss.

"And?" Angie asked.

"Blech," replied Beth. "Icky. But I can get used to it. I'll be right back," she said, scampering into the bathroom.

Myles regarded her rear as she disappeared. "You chose well," he told Angie with a smile.

"You haven't seen the half of it," Angie replied with a wink. "And we're very much in love."

"That is obvious, honey. You love her more than you ever loved me."

"Myles. It's just so different," Angie felt like she should apologize. She walked stiffly to the stove to get more coffee. "Goddamn. I'm going to be sore for a week," she said, smiling at him.

"You're just out of shape," Myles teased. "But Angie, it's ok," he told her, quickly becoming serious. "We had what we had—and I will always cherish you for it. I'm not jealous. I'm really happy for you. It's actually a lot easier for me now that I've seen you two together. I don't think we could ever have had what you have with Beth. You're in the right place now. And that's a beautiful thing."

By this time, Beth had come out of the shower. "Is there anything to eat?" she asked. "I'm starving."

Myles jumped up and said, "I'm on it. Why don't you two take a stroll while I make some dinner?"

Angie took her cue. "Great idea. Let's go, Beth," she said nudging her toward the door.

When they were outside, Beth asked, "What was that all about?"

"We need to talk for a minute—well, maybe two minutes," Angie told her. "Let's sit on the porch."

Beth sat. "What's wrong, Angie?" she asked, clearly puzzled.

"Nothing's wrong. We just have to get on the same page again," Angie replied. She cleared her throat. "I wish this sensing thing would go two-way. It would save so much time," she said with a frown. Beth nodded.

"Anyway. I was missing you, so I decided to drive over and visit. When I got here, Myles and I walked up to the barn." She paused and wrinkled her nose. "Well, you were obviously not in a place to be interrupted, shall we say?" Beth blushed crimson.

"I'm sorry, Angie," she said softly.

"No no no," Angie assured her, laying her hand on Beth's arm. "I was really concerned and upset at first but Myles explained—well, he sort of explained what was going on. I just trusted that it was something you obviously need to do. Um, sort of to get it out of your system, I guess?" Beth nodded.

"Anyway. So we went back to the house. I was still a little upset, and Myles was smoking. So I thought that maybe a cigarette would settle me down—they always did, you know. Well, it did that." Beth smiled.

"Then Myles and I wound up smoking together and talking about old times," Angie continued. She stopped suddenly, and Beth saw tears welling in her eyes. "And then I—oh, Beth, I don't know why I did it. I just felt like I needed..." Angie began sobbing. "And he looked so strong and handsome—just like when we..." She couldn't continue, so she just covered her face with her hands and sobbed. "I'm so sorry," she blubbered.

It took a minute for it to register because it was such a foreign thought. Then Beth was horrified.

"You mean—you..." Beth stammered. She could scarcely utter the words. "You—well, I mean—with Myles?" Angie just nodded, sobbing.

"I'm sorry," she repeated. "I'm so, so sorry."

Beth felt numb. Betrayed. Her wife—the woman who promised to forsake all others—had betrayed her. And with a man. The last person on earth that she would have suspected to be unfaithful had accomplished the ultimate betrayal. Something she would never...

And then she stopped.

But of course she had—and with her son, no less. And Angie had witnessed it all. And had been supportive. And then with Marie-Ange. How difficult had that been for her? And what had Angie told her? "Why should my limitations prevent you from being all of who you are?"

In that moment, Beth understood how deeply Angie loved her—and what a huge capacity for love and nurturing her wife had. She also realized how much she loved Angie. She looked at her wife. Sobbing, distraught, guilt-ridden—at what? At having reached for some compassion and a loving touch while her mate was masturbating in the dirt underneath a tractor?

The absurdity of the situation was such that Beth felt like laughing—but it was so sad, too. She became frustrated—angry at herself.

"NO!" she shouted. Angie, startled, stopped crying and looked at her red-eyed. Beth took Angie's face in her hands. "No," she repeated softly. "No more crying. No more guilt. Not about this, Angie. If I can fuck my son in front of you, if I can beat off under a tractor in front of you—and you can accept me for who I am and what I need—what the hell. How much of a hypocrite would I have to be not to understand this?

"I know I have a lot of faults, but I'm not that flawed," Beth continued. "Ok. Yeah, it bugs me to know that you made love with him, but there's room in my heart for that." She smiled and kissed Angie. "Someone who I love more than anything told me that a while back. My heart isn't nearly as big as yours, but I'm working on it. I will always love you—and I want you to be fulfilled and to be as free to follow your path as you make me to follow mine."

By this time they were both crying in each other's arms.

"I love you so much," Angie whispered to her.

"Not as much as I love you," Beth whispered, giving her a playful bite on the ear.

"Ow." Angie nipped her back. In an instant they were locked in a deep kiss. They parted and their gazes met. They began to float away together...

"Sorry to interrupt, but dinner's ready," Myles abruptly ended their tryst. "I'm sorry," he added, "that looked like it was just about to get very interesting."

The women burst into laughter and headed into the house.

"Yeah. It was," said Beth. "Except it wasn't 'getting.' It was already there."

"Fucker," Angie growled at Myles, giving him a swat on the ass as she passed. He laughed.

Dinner was excellent, and the conversation turned to art and lighter subjects. Beth offered to clear the plates. When she came back, Angie and Myles were smoking again. She watched, repelled and intrigued at the same time.

Angie exhaled a cloud of smoke and asked, "Do you want to try it?"

"No," Beth replied quickly. After a long pause she reconsidered. "Yes. Yes, I think I do," she said softly. "I'm still a little upset, too."

Angie smiled and slid the pack over to her. Beth took a cigarette and cautiously put it between her lips. Angie picked up the lighter and sparked it, extending the flame toward Beth. Beth instinctively took Angie's hand to steady it as she brought the flame to the end of the cigarette. As the first tendrils of smoke entered Beth's mouth their eyes met and she began to understand the powerful allure of smoking.

Beth removed the cigarette and exhaled, coughing a bit.

"Try just a little hit," Angie encouraged. Beth sucked gingerly and got a mouthful of smoke. She quickly exhaled it.

"That wasn't so—oooh," she said. "That made me dizzy. It's like getting high."

"Yeah. A little," Angie told her. "The problem is it's really addictive. But it feels great." She took a full drag, and exhaled with obvious pleasure.

Beth took another micro-puff and smiled. "It is pretty relaxing," she said, settling back in her chair.

"More wine?" asked Myles, refilling their glasses before either could say anything. After a long silence, he turned to Beth. "So. What did Angie confess?"

"I don't know if I should be divulging Angie's secrets," Beth said, smiling. "Maybe Angie should be the one to answer that." She winked at Angie.

"I told her that we fucked," Angie said instantly. She stubbed out her cigarette and immediately lit another.

Myles sat upright in astonishment. "And how do you feel about that, Beth?" Myles he asked when he regained his composure.

"You sure are nosy," Beth grumped. "I'm not so keen on it, but neither of us is the jealous type. I figure that if I can hump my hand under a tractor, I should cut my partner some slack."

Myles smiled. "You guys are too much," he said, shaking his head. "By the way, it's a cultivator, not a tractor. You should at least know who you're having sex with."

The quip caught Angie in mid-sip, and she laughed, spraying wine onto Myles.

"Ok. I surrender," he said with a smile. "I'm heading to bed. Angie, are you going to stay here tonight? If so, where? I'll get you set up if you need a bunk."

Angie looked at Beth, and they smiled at each other. "Of course I will, darling," she said. Turning to Myles she said, "I'll be staying with Beth. But we're not going to bed for a while." She took the cigarettes and lighter and they headed out to the porch with their wine. "Good night, Myles," she called as the door closed.

When Beth and Angie came down the next morning, Myles had bacon and eggs ready for breakfast. Beth was astonished to see Angie devour several slices of bacon along with her eggs and toast.

When she saw Beth's questioning look, Angie simply replied, "I always loved bacon when I was a kid—actually any kind of pork is awesome. I just gave up eating meat when I got into Buddhism."

When Angie took a post-breakfast cigarette from Myles, Beth gave up trying to understand her wife's behaviors. She simply reached for one herself and they all lit up. Myles occupied himself with the dishes, giving the two women some time to talk. They went out on the porch, smoking together.

"You're going to be spending the day in the barn, right?" Angie asked.

"Yes—at least I hope to," Beth replied. "But I sure as hell hope I can figure out a way to do some real painting and get past yesterday's activities. I got a couple of big cuts."

"You did get some doozies," Angie told her. "But for what it's worth, it seems like something's changed for you."

"How so?" Beth asked, "I can't tell much of anything right now."

"Well, I can tell you're really confused, but—this is hard to explain—you seem firmer inside. I mean, when I sense what you're feeling there's a solidity to it that wasn't there. It's odd. I've only ever had that feeling with Myles," Angie told her. Beth looked at her, surprised.

"With Myles?" she asked.

"Yeah. But not now—only when we were—um, dating," Angie replied. Beth took a long drag on her cigarette. She coughed a bit, but enjoyed the relaxing quality of it.

"Well, hopefully this is doing some good," she said, exhaling a cloud of smoke. "This isn't really what I thought these lessons were going to be like."

"You and me both," Angie said, taking Beth's hand. "But whatever you need, please do it. Do whatever you need to do to get to where you need to go."

"I'm sorry I'm such a head case, Angie," Beth said, shaking her head. Angie hugged her.

"No worse than me, lover. No worse than me," Angie replied, stubbing out her cigarette. "By the way, I think I'm going to probably head home later today," she said. "It's probably better for you to just focus on the work you need to do here."

Beth played with her cigarette, watching the smoke curling upward from the tip. She smiled. Turning to Angie she asked abruptly, "Are you going to sleep with Myles again before you go?"

Angie started. "I hadn't entertained that thought," she said with a guffaw. "The first time was traumatic enough for all three of us I think." She paused and looked at Beth. "What the hell made you ask that?"

"I don't know. I just felt like I should," Beth told her. "By the way, if you want to do it—go for it."

"Thanks, but no thanks," Angie said, standing up. "I think we exorcised our demons with one go-around. I'll leave any future performances for you." She gave Beth a kiss on the cheek and an impish grin.

Beth shook her head. "I don't think this path for me is about having sex with more people," she said seriously. "I think it's actually headed in the opposite direction for me." She put her arm around Angie. "But you seem to be getting more fired up," she teased.

Angie returned her embrace. "I'm enjoying physical love more now than ever before in my life—but it's all because of you," she said. "Right now, I just need to go home." Beth looked at her questioningly.

"I need to stop killing myself with cholesterol and nicotine, and I need to stop fucking men when I don't really feel anything. I need to find myself again," Angie explained. "It was good to reconnect with my past, but it's not where I want to be now." She took both of Beth's hands in hers. "You need to find your soul in your way, and I need to find mine in my way," Angie told her with a smile. "When you're ready, I'll be at home. Waiting for you. I promise."

"Meditating, no doubt," Beth said, returning her smile.

"Well, I won't be smoking a damn cigarette," Angie said with conviction. "Just give me a call once in a while to let me know how things are going. I won't bug you—neither of us knows when you're going to need to be quiet and when it's right to talk. So you call me, ok?"

They walked into the house and saw that Myles had gone to his studio. Beth walked Angie out to her car. Angie reached into the back seat and brought out a bag.

"I brought you something," she said. Beth looked at her questioningly.

Angie reached into the bag and brought out a book. Beth knew what it was even before she saw the title: "Paroles par Jacques Prévert."

"Marie-Ange's book," Beth said softly, taking it and caressing the cover gently. She opened it and read what her soul-mate had written on the flyleaf:

"à mon ami Beth . Une belle femme passionnée qui seront un jour faire du grand art. S'il vous plaît gardez-moi dans votre coeur pour toujours. Votre ami, Marie-Ange."

"I'm sorry I can't translate that for you," Angie said gently.

"You don't need to. I remember exactly what she told me," Beth replied. She closed her eyes, remembering Marie-Ange—how she felt, how she tasted, the depth behind her eyes...

"To my friend Beth. A beautiful and passionate woman who one day will make great art. Please keep me always in your heart. Your friend, Marie-Ange," she whispered to herself.

They kissed and Angie drove away. Beth was already on her way to the barn, clasping her book tightly.

"Hi. Are you at home?" Myles sounded concerned.

"Yeah. Is everything ok? How is Beth?" Angie replied, instantly alert.

"I was just about to head up to the barn to check on her—but I'm sure she's ok. I'll let you know if there are any problems. I called because I was worried about you. I didn't see you around here and got worried. Why did you leave?"

"It was time, Myles," Angie said simply. "All good things have to end, I guess. I have to get back to myself and I can't do that around you." She paused. "I'm sorry," she added.

"Take care, Angie. You're welcome anytime," Myles said softly. He hung up abruptly.

Angie looked at her phone and tears formed in her eyes. "I love you," she whispered to the silent phone. She walked outside to her favorite secluded spot. Sitting there, in the brilliant sunlight, she began to meditate.

As Myles headed to the barn, he was surprised at the quiet. Beth, apparently, was not in the throes of passion. He peered in cautiously through a crack. Beth was sitting upright on a barrel, clothed, apparently lost in thought.

Satisfied that she was all right, Myles headed back to the house. He made some sandwiches and put on a pot of coffee. When she didn't come back to the house, he carried a tray of food up to the barn.

Beth looked up when he entered.

"Lunch time!" he called out cheerfully. She came over and got a cup of coffee.

"Thanks, Myles, but I don't really have an appetite. The coffee is great, though." she looked on the tray. "Not to be a bother, but do you have a cigarette?

Myles took out his pack and gave her one, lighting it for her. Beth inhaled greedily. "I think I've created a monster," he said wryly. "Keep the pack and the lighter. I've got more of everything at the house."

Beth took her coffee and returned to her seat facing the wall. She took a good hit of her cigarette and smoke swirled in the dusty air of the barn. Abruptly she turned and looked at Myles. He was munching a sandwich, watching her.

"What do you see?" he asked her.

"Dust and smoke swirling. Rough wood. Uneven whitewash," she went on listing things.

"There's a white wall in front of you," Myles said simply. "That's it." Beth turned and looked at it. "Don't evade the issue. Don't let resistance kill you," Myles told her. "It's a white wall. Nothing more." He put down his sandwich and left the barn.

Beth shook her head, sure she would never understand this man or what he wanted of her. Or what she needed to do to make good art. She realized that her cigarette was almost finished, so she returned to the table for another. As she lit up, she saw that Myles had also brought her phone.