This story is intended to continue the “Massage Mat” series that began in the “Incest” category. This episode deals with Beth’s continuing emotional and sexual journey, but it can be read separately.

If you haven’t read chapters 1-3, the plot thus far is that Beth, a widow, and Jason, her son, have begun an incestuous romantic relationship that was consummated for the first time at the end of part three.

Incest fans: There isn’t any in this chapter but stay tuned…there is more of that to come, with some (hopefully fun) plot twists mixed in.

If you’re more interested in reading for sex scenes than for plot, there are two (hopefully hot) lesbian scenes in here, but there’s no way to get “Massage Mat” to continue without some character and plot development. Feel free to fast forward until you get to the good parts.

But if you’re interested in what happens to Beth, I hope you enjoy the journey!


The weeks and months after Jason and I began our romantic relationship had been the happiest of my life. Even my friends and co-workers noticed the change in me.

“My God, Beth,” exclaimed Lori one day, “you are like a giddy teenager. Do you have a secret lover or something?”

“Dozens,” I replied, laughing. Then I made a serious face, “Yeah. I wish. Actually, I’m living a life of celibacy,” I lied. “I just feel really good lately.”

Of course in reality Jason and I had been fucking ourselves senseless. He’d never had sex before our first time, and I had been starved for half a decade, so we went at it constantly. I wondered what would happen to us once the novelty of the intense sex began to lose its charm. Well, I thought, that wasn’t going to be an immediate problem. There was no sign that we’d be letting up anytime soon.

I also thought a lot about how this would affect Jason’s life. I didn’t want our…our what? Affair? God, that word made my skin crawl. I didn’t want our…relationship…to damage his chances for a happy future.

I realized that I was thinking more like a mother again, and mentally thanked Jason for helping me to regain the strength that I had lost. I knew that I would never let anything or anyone—including me—damage his future happiness.

That resolution was put to the test a few nights later when Jason announced that he wanted me to meet someone after his hockey game. As usual, he played really well, and when he came out of the locker room, his coach came with him along with another, older man.

Jason’s coach introduced the distinguished-looking older man to me. “Beth, this is the head coach of the University of _____________, hockey team. Right now, they’re ranked number three in the nation and are one of the favorites to win the national championship. Coach D’Amico, this is Mrs. Miller.” The older coach got straight to the point.

“Mrs. Miller, I have a very busy schedule, but I took the time to fly out here to watch Jason play in person,” the coach began, “Our scouts have been driving me crazy for months saying how great they think he is. Between you and me, I just came up here to get a little peace and quiet,” he joked. We all laughed. He was a very personable guy. Then he turned serious and looked directly at me as he continued.

“Your son is truly a very talented hockey player. He’s pretty rough around the edges, but has great skills and vision on the ice. He’s also got the things that can’t be taught—an instinctive feel for the game and amazing leadership qualities. I think he can contribute a great deal to our program, and I believe we can develop him to the point that he’d have a legitimate chance to play in the National Hockey League.

“Don’t get me wrong—I don’t think he’s a future Sidney Crosby—but he has the potential for a solid career for a number of years if things work out. We’ve therefore decided to offer Jason a scholarship. I believe it’s a great opportunity for him, and I hope that you will both give it serious consideration.” Then he turned to Jason.

“Son, I know you’ve been talking with my assistant coaches every couple of days. I want you to continue to do that. Let us know what you’re thinking and if you have any questions. We want to make this work for you, and we need your help to make it work. Will you help us on that?” Jason nodded, looking a little dazed. “Ok son, I’m going to hold you to your word,” the coach added looking Jason squarely in the eyes. I could tell why he was so successful—he was an incredible leader and motivator—Jason looked ready to take on the world for this guy.

And that was that. Jason was going away to become a hockey player, and I was going to do whatever it took to help make his dream come true—even though it would take the great love of my life away from me for a time.

At first, Jason wanted to turn down the scholarship to stay with me. I was thrilled, but after a sleepless night, I knew what I had to do. We had a long talk, and I helped him to see that our future together would be brighter if he took bursa escort this opportunity—and that he would never be happy if he didn’t. I loved him so much that I would have given my life for him in an instant. Four years apart to establish a firm basis for our life together was a small sacrifice by compairison.

I also made another decision. I wanted Jason to date girls his own age while he was away. I knew that he needed to experience more of life and love if we were ever to have a normal relationship. I didn’t want to go through life as the “mom” to my man. I needed him to be a man: a strong, sure, confident leader to whom I could submit—and who I would support with every fiber of my being.

And that could only happen if Jason left the nest, conquered his own world and returned to me. I knew it was a risk, but I was willing to take it. I wanted him more than I had wanted anything in my life, and I would do anything necessary to make this relationship work for the long haul.

As wonderful as it felt to make these noble sacrifices for our future happiness, helping Jason move away to college was the hardest thing I had ever done. After losing Dan, I felt like I was having another piece of my heart torn out. When it came time for me to head back home alone, we both sobbed in each other’s arms. Only the fact that I’d return for a visit in a month made the parting bearable at all.

When I got back to town, I couldn’t face going home to an empty bed. I phoned Lori.

“Hey, can I come over for a minute?” I asked.

“Of course, Beth,” she replied, “You know you’re welcome anytime.”

As soon as Lori opened the door, a look of concern crossed her face.

“Oh my God, Beth,” she said, giving me a hug, ” what is the matter?”

Of course, I couldn’t tell her the real problem—that I was devastated because my son wasn’t around to fuck me four times a day. I did, though, manage to come close to the truth.

“Lori, I just moved Jason up to school and I don’t know what to do with myself. I feel so lonely and….and… There is just a big hole in my life right now,” I said, beginning to cry.

Lori reached out and hugged me. “You’re so tense,” she exclaimed, “Your whole body seems like it’s going to explode.” Like only a true friend could, Lori comforted me and made me feel better. When I left, she made me promise to have dinner with her and John the next night.


“That was a great dinner, and the company was even better,” I said with real gratitude. “I know you guys didn’t have to include me on your date night, but I’m so glad you did.”

“Beth, it was really fun to have you with us. We always enjoy spending time with you,” John said warmly. Then he turned to his wife.

“Honey, did you bring…the surprise?” he asked.

“Of course, babe.” Lori answered, smiling. Then she reached into her purse and handed me an envelope.

“Open it,” they said, giggling. I did, and pulled out a card.

“This Gift Certificate is Good for One Massage,” it read, “at Magic Hands Massage Studio.” I looked at John and Lori with a puzzled expression.

“Lori swears by this gal,” John said. “Her name is Angie, and she apparently is a massage genius. I don’t think her massages are so amazing, but they’re good.”

“That’s because you’re a man,” teased Lori, “You don’t appreciate Angie’s talents.”

John harrumphed. “Whatever. Anyway, Beth is a woman, so I’m sure she will. Enjoy the massage, Beth.”

“You ARE going to love the massage,” Lori assured me. “You’ll feel like a new woman. We decided that you needed a little pampering and relaxation, and this was my idea. I really hope you like it.”

“Guys, this is so sweet,” I said, “I don’t deserve it, but…well, thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” said John. “Sometimes it’s fun to do something nice for a wonderful gal who could use a little TLC.”

I got up and hugged him. “You’re the best,” I said. I turned to Lori.

“You’re a really lucky woman,” I assured her.

“Yeah. I know. I’m really lucky,” she said taking John’s hand and kissing it. “There’s just one thing though, Beth,” she said suddenly.

“What’s that?” I asked.

“Give me a call when you schedule your appointment with Angie,” she requested, “I’d just like to know when you’re going.” I assured her that I would, wondering why she cared so much about that.

The next morning I called the number on the card.

“Thanks for calling Magic Hands Massage,” a cheery voice answered.

“Hi. I just got a gift certificate for a massage, and I was wondering how I can use it,” I began. There was a pause.

“Oh. Ok. You must be Beth. I’m Angie,” the voice continued.

“How did you know who I was?” I asked.

“Well, this is not exactly a huge operation,” giggled Angie. “Actually, it’s a one-woman show. Me. So when Lori asked me about gift certificates, I first had to make one…and then she told me about you. It’s nice to meet you—telephonically at least,” escort bursa she giggled again. I decided that I liked Angie already. “We just need to find a time and you come in and get a massage. That’s all there is to it.”

“Ok,” I answered. “How long a massage is the gift for?” I asked.

“It’s for one massage,” said Angie firmly. “I don’t put time limits on them, because it just varies—sometimes someone needs more attention, sometimes it’s more like a touch-up. Almost all of my clients are regulars, so it probably averages out to about an hour and a half per massage I guess. I’m just not a clock-watcher.”

I thought for a minute. “Well, Thursday or Friday of this week could work for me if it were later in the afternoon,” I suggested. I heard a mouse clicking. Then a pause.

“C’mon you fucking thing,” I heard Angie mutter. I decided that I really liked Angie. Then she came back on the line. “Either day is open after 4:30, but how about if we do Friday?” she suggested. “That would be a better way to end your week.”

I smiled and checked the address on the card. I didn’t recognize it. “Ok. Friday it is,” I replied. “Where are you located? I don’t recognize your address.”

“Take Route 57 South,” Angie replied. “Just past the city limit, you’ll see Rodgers Rd. on your left. Turn left and look for the big yellow farmhouse on your left about ½ mile down the road. If you get to the hog farm, you went too far.”

“Ok. That will take me about 20 minutes from work and I get off at 5:00. Would 5:30 be ok?” I asked.

“Perfect,” she replied. “See you Friday at 5:30.”

The next few days were uneventful, except for some lovely conversations with Jason. He had had several good practices in a row, and the coach told him that he might dress for some home games when the season started. He was really excited about that, and it made me feel good to know that he was doing well and was happy.

“I just miss you so much, mom,” he said right before we said goodnight, “Everything would be perfect if you were here.”

“Only one month, kiddo,” I told him, “Hang in there, and we’ll have a reunion for the ages.”

“I really need you…Beth,” he said tenderly. I knew exactly what he had in mind.

“The feeling is mutual. I am going berserk without you,” I assured him, “Now sleep well and dream about me.”

On Friday afternoon at work, time seemed to have stopped. I was really looking forward to getting a massage and starting my weekend—and 5:00 seemed to never want to arrive. Finally I was able to leave. I zipped to my car and headed off for my Magic Hands massage.

On the way, I realized that I had never phoned Lori. I got my phone and hit her speed dial number.

“Hey Beth. What’s up?” Lori’s voice came over the phone.

“Well, I’m on my way to Angie’s for my massage,” I replied.

“You lucky, lucky girl. You are really going to enjoy it,” she assured me again. “I just have one piece of advice for you.”

“Yes?” I asked.

“Move the towel,” Lori said simply.

“What do you mean by that?” I asked, mystified.

“You’ll understand when the time comes. Just do it. Promise me that you’ll do it,” she demanded.

“Huh? Ok. I promise to move towels,” I replied without much feeling.

“Not towels. Just one. Just move THE towel,” said Lori. Then she hung up suddenly.

I was still wondering what the hell that was about when I pulled into Angie’s curving driveway. The farmhouse was impossible to miss—it was neon yellow with electric blue trim. There was a stream running next to it, and several nice flower gardens landscaped the grounds. A small sign by the front steps identified the place as the home of “Magic Hands Massage Therapy.” I climbed the stairs to the porch and read the sign on the door.

“Welcome, weary traveler,” it read, “Knock and enter.” I followed the instructions and pushed the door open gently.

“Hello?” I inquired.

“Hello to you,” came the reply. A tomboyish young woman bounced up to greet me, “I’m Angie.” She looked young, but her deep blue eyes were unusual—like the eyes of a very old and wise teacher, I thought. My first thought was that she was in her 20s, but then I thought that maybe she could be 40. I finally decided that I had no idea how old she was, and really didn’t care. I just liked her.

Her short, blonde hair was cut in a very boyish style and she wore jeans, a faded t-shirt that said “Harvard Law,” and bright red sneakers. I couldn’t help but smile at her—she seemed to be a ball of sunshine.

“C’mon back and I’ll get you set up,” she said casually, and we headed down the hall. She opened a door and we entered the most beautiful room I have ever been in.

One wall was all windows, offering a panoramic view of wildflower-covered hills rising into the distance. The other walls were painted a rich, deep blue and there were beautiful Oriental rugs on the well-used wood floor. Recessed lights bathed the room in a soft glow. A tabletop waterfall trickled bursa escort bayan in the background, and Zen massage music was playing softly. The air was suffused with a wonderful scent. Truly this was a refuge for the senses. I felt tension melting out of my body as I stood there.

“Yes. This is a beautiful space,” Angie said, answering my thoughts. Her whole demeanor had changed. The whimsical young girl had given way to a…a being…who radiated serenity. I could not believe that it was the same person, yet the tomboy with the mop of blonde hair and red sneakers was still there before me.

“I am truly blessed in many ways. It gives me great joy to share my blessings and to give joy and pleasure to others,” she continued. She rested her hand lightly on my arm.

“Welcome, Beth. I am honored to have you join me today.” Her hand lightly touched my heart and she bowed her head. Then she touched my cheek, finally resting her hand on her heart and bowing deeply.

“Please have a seat on the table and make yourself comfortable.” It was an invitation but…I felt that it was a command too. I sat before I could think.

“Have you had massages before?” she asked.

“Yes, many times,” I answered, ” and I absolutely adore them. I just haven’t found the time to get one recently.”

“It is often difficult to find time to care for ourselves,” she observed, “Nonetheless, this is your time, Beth. It is your time to seek serenity and clarity,” she said softly but with deep feeling. “I will step out and you can undress and get on the table and under the covers. We’ll begin face up, please.”

A few minutes later I was nestled, nude under soft blankets. A soft tap on the door announced Angie’s arrival. She ran her hands over the covers, feeling the contours of my body beneath them. Her eyes gazed deeply into mine. Then she closed her eyes and concentrated deeply.

“I think we should begin with some aromatherapy,” she finally said in a low voice, “I recommend lavender to release your stress.” She went to her table and took a few drops of something onto her hands, then rubbed them together briskly before holding them just over my face. “Breathe deeply and slowly. Ah…that’s it…excellent…”

The scent of the lavender relaxed me further and I felt my body melting into the covers. Angie disappeared briefly then her hands began massaging my earlobes, face and neck before moving to my shoulders…

“Beth. Beth…you can turn over now,” I heard Angie’s sweet voice whispering into my ear. Her hand rested comfortingly on my chest. I smiled drowsily.

“I think dozed off,” I muttered, blinking. I tried to turn over, but nothing moved. A second attempt yielded a slight movement of my right leg and an futile attempt to raise myself with my arms. The third try was more successful and I unceremoniously flopped onto my stomach. “Ergh. That’s better,” I grunted as Angie lowered the covers, positioned a pillow under my legs, and covered my backside with a towel.

She began to massage my back, using an incredible variety of strokes and pressures, and my muscles relaxed deeply. After doing my arms, she returned to my back, this time using lighter, longer strokes and moving downward.

“Beth, I think you would benefit from having some having some work done on your glutes along with your legs. Would you be comfortable with that?” she asked softly. It was a simple request, almost impossible to refuse.

“Mmmm. Of course, Angie,” I replied dreamily. She immediately began to work my buttocks, first through the towel then moving under it. Finally, she released every bit of tension in my legs and feet. Again, she returned to long, soft strokes, this time up and down my legs and then returning to my buttocks. She had no way of knowing, of course, that massaging my ass was a sure-fire way to get me aroused, and her ministrations began to have exactly that effect, especially when she moved to the inner parts of my thighs. I felt myself begin to drift away from reality…

“Beth? Are you awake?” Again Angie’s soft voice roused me from another world.

“Mmmm. Mostly,” was all I could reply.

“I’m afraid I have to ask you to turn over again,” Angie whispered, “the backside is done.” This time I was so limp that I required Angie’s help, but we finally got me on my back again. Angie got a midnight blue towel and covered my hips but left me uncovered otherwise.

It was twilight and the sky was a deep blue color. In the distance, the hills sparkled with points of light from the houses situated on them. Already, a multitude of stars were visible—it was as though Van Gogh’s “Starry Night” had come to life. The room had become dark and Angie was now just a dimly-lit shadow as she moved.

She began with my legs, moving upward and I was soon back in my enchanted place of relaxation. She moved up to my neck and shoulders and I could only marvel at how loose and open I felt there compared to when she had started. Finally, she massaged my belly lightly and moved her hands up to my breasts, just giving them a very light massage. Her touch was intoxicating. Again, I heard her beautiful voice.

“Beth?” she whispered. I opened my eyes. Her face was close to mine and I could see into her eyes.

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