Dual Healing

Australian / British standard English. There is a good chance of: lots of profanity, characters drinking, typos, mistakes, and bad grammar at times.

Proofreading and editing suggestions provided by OhDave1. Any mistakes are still mine.

Comments are appreciated.

Feedback by email is always welcome. Enjoy chatting with anyone who likes my work.

*****

I'd been riding a motorcycle since the first day I could obtain my licence before it happened. Four years without a single incident ended in an instant. I'd always been a careful rider as the chances of being killed on a motorcycle were far higher than when driving a car. And considering the number of ignorant drivers, wrapped up in their own little world that they barely consider other cars, let alone motorcycle riders, that I was thankful I'd lasted as long as I did until my first accident.

I was out with a couple of friends, just cruising around as it was a lovely day. I never rode without a helmet, leathers, gloves and boots. I'd only been in possession of my new bike for a few months. It wasn't new when I bought it, but it didn't have many kilometres on the dial when I handed over a couple of thousand dollars. Sure, it was sleek and fast, and if I wanted to crank it, I'd easily be doing two hundred with ease.

The throttle was only twisted on empty straight pieces of road without any traffic about. If I came off in moments like that, it would be my fault only.

We'd been out for a ride in the morning and were heading to a pub where we'd frequently eat lunch. We never drank while riding considering how dangerous motorcycle riding already could be. It was while cruising around in the afternoon that it happened. Due to the nature of the accident, I don't exactly remember every detail but from the vague memories I do have, and from what my friends told me, I was cruising through an intersection when a car made to turn into a side street.

No chance of stopping in time. I had always been told to be aware of my surroundings, particularly of idiot drivers not taking care of others on the road. Hitting the other car without barely touching the brake, I'd been sent flying off my bike, over the bonnet of the car, and hit the tarmac with a sickening crunch. Despite all the safety gear, particularly my helmet, I was knocked out from the force of the impact, only coming to when I was being attended to by paramedics.

And the pain was immediately overwhelming. One of the paramedics gave me something for it while the other explained what happened. Knocking me out to ease me through the pain, I didn't wake up again until I was in hospital. I opened my eyes to find my parents standing over me, Dad looking at me rather blankly, probably blaming me for the crash in his mind, Mum with wet cheeks from crying. My little sister was doing her best to appear like her usual teenage self, not caring about anything but I met her eyes, and I knew she'd been crying too.

"Mum," I whispered, her eyes immediately meeting mine. She melted immediately, leaning over to cover my face in kisses.

"Oh baby, we were so worried!" she cried softly.

"How'd you know I was here?"

"All your friends called, so did the hospital."

I could see she was desperate to hug me, but I could feel the pain in both my arms and legs. All over my body, to be honest. Pushing the call button for me once I groaned, a nurse arrived rather quickly, noticed I was awake and smiled, stating she'd get the doctor.

He arrived a few minutes later and, after performing a quick examination, explained what happened to me. Two broken wrists as I'd my hands out when I was landing on the ground. Fracture of the right forearm. Broken left elbow. Fractured right shoulder and collarbone. Plenty of scratches and bruises. Thankfully, my legs were fine, just banged up from rolling when I hit the ground.

"What about my bike?" I wondered, "I know it was used but I still spent money on it."

My dad laughed, shaking his head at the fact I cared about that instead of myself. "It's a bit broken, baby," Mum replied, "But your focus should be on getting better."

The doctor then explained I'll have casts on both arms and that my mobility would be restricted for a couple of months, and after that, I'd likely have a few months of therapy. It was only a first assessment, and I'd be in hospital for a few days as I needed a little surgery.

I didn't see my father again, and my little sister only popped in occasionally, but Mum was visiting me twice a day. She'd worried since the day I'd bought my first motorcycle and obtained my learner's licence. I'd always been a safe rider, and the accident hadn't been my fault, but I figured the chance of me getting back on a bike anytime soon would be slim.

The only concern was that although I still lived at home, I'd recently turned twenty years old and lived somewhat independently. The only thing I didn't do for myself at home was cook my own meals, as Mum insisted that my buying groceries and cooking my own meals was silly when I already paid my parents rent. I had been looking at moving out, but considering that rental prices were skyrocketing, and getting a mortgage was almost impossible, Mum insisted I remain at home and just pay them rent, while my father probably wanted me out rather than have me around, but I knew the old man liked having me around, particularly as I took over mowing the lawns and other things around the house.

Mum was happy the day I was finally allowed out of hospital. I was grateful to leave though I knew my life wasn't going to be easy for the next few months. It was bad enough to rely on my mother pretty much having to be my nurse, and it was rather embarrassing at times. Had to have baths instead of showers, and due to restricted mobility, I had to rely on someone to wash me.

To keep my modesty, I did slide on a pair of swimming shorts as I didn't particularly want my mother to see my cock. What didn't help is that I'd been single for a few months, so feeling my mother's soft hands caressing my body whenever she soaped me up didn't help me when it came to the feeling of feeling rather single. Mum would always be happy and smiling, talking casually as if it were the most natural thing in the world. She knew I was a little uncomfortable at times so did all she could to help keep me relaxed.

There was one major problem looming which I knew was going to cause even more awkwardness.

I was a twenty-year-old man. I'd been enjoying sex for a few years by now, either with a girlfriend or I'd happily enjoy casual sex with a couple of girls who were close friends with additional benefits. I rarely went twenty-four hours without enjoying a couple of orgasms, whether of the self-induced variety or with someone else. While I was in hospital, my libido was shot to pieces. But since returning home, I was starting to get more and more frustrated with the fact I couldn't take care of myself at all, and without a girlfriend who might be willing to do it for me...

Mum seemed to sense my increasing frustration with each day. I was stuck at home as going out by myself was impossible. I was missing my friends, as though they did visit occasionally, they were busy with work and their own lives, and they would much prefer going out than hanging with me at home with my parents and sister. All in all, I was feeling isolated, horny and annoyed by everything.

And none of it was my fault, which to be honest, just made me angry at my situation. I tried not to wallow in self-pity, but it's difficult when you've been injured, and it simply isn't your fault.

We were sitting down for dinner as a family one night when I must have snapped more than once. It was embarrassing that I couldn't even cut up my own meal, my mother had to do it for me. She never stopped smiling at me, I think taking joy in looking after her little boy again, but when I snapped once too often, her smile faded as she started to look upset.

And that just made me feel awful, so to escape the situation, I just stood up and walked back to my bedroom, shutting the door behind me as I felt guilty about snapping at the one woman I knew would always happily look after and care for me. And snapping at her just because I was too horny but couldn't do anything made me feel even worse.

There was a light knock at the door within a few minutes, calling whoever it was to open up. Mum appeared through the doorway, closing the door behind her. She was wearing a dress like she always did when at home, as she was working half-days at work to make sure she was around to look after me. Another reason to feel guilty about taking my frustrations out on her.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, her blue eyes looked into mine, pushing the thin black frames of her glasses higher on her nose, brunette hair tied back in a ponytail. Unlike many women in their early forties, she hadn't made the decision to cut off all her hair just yet.

"What's the matter, baby?" she asked, resting a hand on my knee.

"Sorry for snapping, Mum. I'm not even sure what I was going on about."

"You're obviously frustrated, Tom. Tell me what's wrong."

"I can't, Mum. It's embarrassing and not something I can talk to you about."

She smiled, squeezing my knee affectionately. "Tom, you can tell your mother anything. You know that. We've never been embarrassed talking about anything, no matter how private it is."

I met her eyes, and her face broke out into a smile. That helped me relax though I took a couple of deep breaths. How do I admit to my mother that I was desperate for an orgasm? I shuffled around, feeling a little uncomfortable in regard to what I was about to admit. I mostly worried about her reaction. Mum knew I was sexually active. She'd met three of my previous girlfriends. She'd been disappointed when I split up with my previous one.

"Okay, so... um..." I sighed. "Mum, this is awkward."

"Take your time, baby."

Taking another deep breath, I did my best not to look away too often. "I haven't had sex since breaking up with Melissa," I admitted, "So that means I usually take care of myself."

"So you masturbate." I felt my cheeks growing warm at how casually my mother mentioned that word. "Think you're the only one who masturbates, sweetie?"

"Huh?"

She chuckled at my dumbfounded expression. "I'll make this either easier or more awkward for you, Tom. Everyone masturbates, as I'm sure you're aware. Everyone." She made sure she was smiling as she looked into my eyes. "I'm guessing that's why you've been a grumpy bear around the house lately?"

I groaned as I rested my head back against the wall. "Fine, I'm grumpy because I really need to jerk off, Mum. When I'm single, I'm probably jerking off at least three times a day. I wake up and jack off. I usually jack off when I'm lying back in bed at night. And I'll try and fit another one in during the day somewhere. Hell, even with a girlfriend, I'll still find time to rub one out a couple of times a day."

"Well, you're a twenty-year-old man with a healthy sex drive, sweetie. Masturbating is something I'd expect you to do."

"I haven't done it since before my accident... And now I can't do it as I can't grip my... um..."

"Penis? Cock? Dick?"

Chuckling, I shook my head but smiled at how casual she was being. "Yeah, I obviously can't grip myself, and I've been doing anything I can to prevent being aroused, but... well... I'm finding it's not working and..."

"I haven't missed the fact you're hard when I'm washing you, Tom. To be honest, I was rather touched by the thought that my son was aroused by me."

"You were?"

She shrugged before moving to sit next to me against the wall. My bed was just a couple of mattresses, no headboard or anything. "Look, your father is a decade older than me, and his sex drive disappeared as soon as he passed forty. He barely touches me anymore."

"Oh..."

"Probably more information than you need to know, but when I noticed your arousal when I first bathed you... It made me feel better. I know it's not just me. I'm sure the soft touch of any woman would make you hard."

"This is weird, Mum..."

"I know, baby. But I don't like seeing you frustrated, and though I understand why you snapped at me, I don't like that either. That's because our relationship has always been so close, I don't want anything to push us apart."

"What do I do, Mum? Because I don't think I can take this much longer. It's so bad, my balls are starting to hurt from the fact I really need to orgasm."

"I'll help you," she stated bluntly.

"What?" I almost shouted, staring at her in surprise.

She met my eyes and smiled lovingly at me. "You're my son and I'll help you."

"You're serious?" I asked, completely dumbfounded, "I mean, I thought you'd hire an escort to jack me off or something."

"Oh please, you think I'm going to let some strange woman in our house and pay her each time just to stroke your cock. And I'm definitely not going to sit back and have some strange women do even more with my son. No, we're both adults here, Tom, and we can sort this issue out together." She paused before adding, "I mean, if your sister was a little older..."

"What?" I asked, voice going up an octave.

"Please, Tom, your little sister worships the ground you walk on. If she was a little older, I bet she'd leap at the chance to take care of her big brother. She might feign being completely disinterested in everything around her, like any teenager her age, but I see how she looks at you. No, it's nothing weird, it's just the look of a young woman who has a little crush on the man who has had the most influence on her life so far."

"Not Dad?"

"God no. Look, I still love your father, but let's be honest, he's a bit of a wet blanket nowadays. Spends most of his time at work or out with his friends either golfing, fishing or whatever else they decide to do. The one thing I'm confident none of them is having is an affair. Your father has no interest in sex at all nowadays, and frankly, he's not smart enough to get away with it, and let's be honest, I don't see many women falling over themselves to get him into bed."

"Are you not frustrated, Mum?"

She leaned in closer. "That's why I spend a lot of time masturbating too, baby." I met her eyes again before she kissed my cheek. "The one thing I won't do is have this happen behind my husband's back. I'm sure from what I've just said that I sound unhappy."

"Are you unhappy?"

I was surprised when she cuddled into me. "I have my little boy and my little girl still at home with me. I have my job and friends of my own. My marriage could be better, but let's be honest, while I still love the man, those early passionate days have long disappeared. We're just comfortable and that's enough for the time being."

"So you're serious about this, Mum?"

"I am. Let me speak to your father tonight and I'll let you know tomorrow when I'm home from work."

"Sorry for snapping, Mum. It's why I walked away as I felt so guilty for doing it."

"Get up and let me hug you."

She stood about five-four to my six-one. Feeling her hugging me tightly, I near enough started crying. The love she'd always shown me was almost overwhelming at times. With her head resting against my chest, I could only hold her with one arm, my other arm allowing some movement but not enough to give her a tight hug.

"Are you hard, baby?" she whispered.

"Can't help it, Mum."

"I'll make sure your father agrees," she said softly, "I need to give my little boy some relief. I hate to hear you're so frustrated." Leaning back, she dazzled me with that smile I often saw. "Makes me feel better about myself, you know? A twenty-year-old man can get hard for a forty-year-old woman. Even if that woman is his mother."

I managed to get to sleep that night though only after my mind dealt with the idea that my mother had offered to jerk me off. I knew it wouldn't be anything more than that. Though my mother loved me, I knew it would be mechanical, not romantic, just a way for my mother to relieve my stress. Waking up in the morning, I almost leapt off my bed when I noticed my mother sitting on the edge of my bed, wearing her dressing gown.

"Morning, baby."

"Morning, Mum."

"I'll tell you straight away, Tom. Your father didn't seem to care. I explained your frustrations and what I'd offered to do for you. He shrugged his shoulders and said he didn't care what I did to help you."

"Oh... Seriously?"

"Yes, baby. But I'm still a married woman and you're still my son. I've got a cloth with me to help clean you up. Do you use lube to masturbate?"

"Um, yeah. Bottom drawer, Mum. Er, you'll see other things in there."

I heard her giggle as she grabbed the lube but would have noticed some other paraphernalia. I'd always experimented with ex-girlfriends. Pulling the sheets back, the tent in my boxer-briefs was obvious. Mum smiled lovingly again as she helped lower them down, my cock springing free. I smiled when she gasped.

"Oh my..." she whispered.

"What?"

Her cheeks were red when she glanced at me. "Baby... um... I'll share a secret. You're bigger than your father, and... I've never seen one this big in my life. At least not one that wasn't in porn."

"Thanks, Mum," I whispered.

She took a deep breath. "Tom..." I met her eyes. "This is only for relief, okay?" Managing to nod, she took a deep breath of her own. "But I remember what you said, so this is what I will do. Every morning, I'll come in and make you cum before we have breakfast. At night, before I go to bed, I'll come in and help you cum. Two times a day, I will guarantee you an orgasm. If you need any more, I may help you out, but I don't want you taking advantage of me."

"Mum, I never..."

"Just making sure you understand, baby. Now I need you to close your eyes, at least the first few times. I'm doing my best to appear confident here, but it's awkward for me too. But you're my son, I love you, and I know you're both in pain and frustrated."

Closing my eyes, I allowed myself to relax though couldn't help the soft moan when I felt Mum apply lube to my cock. Feeling her soft fingers wrap around my shaft, I almost whimpered as it had been far too long since my cock had been touched. I knew I was going to cum within a couple of minutes. When she slowly started to stroke me, she didn't say a word. Barely heard her breathing, to be honest. As for myself, my imagination was already in overdrive.

"Oh god," I groaned within a couple of minutes.

To be honest, if my mother had started to talk dirty, I would have erupted and kept on erupting. I tried to move too much, just relying on her hand stroking my cock. At least she knew what she was doing, just the right tempo, holding me tight enough that it wasn't a death grip. It was the best handjob of my life.

"Gonna cum!" I shouted, Mum pumping me a little faster, and then I was shooting, feeling rope after rope of cum land on my chest. Once I stopped erupting, Mum gave my cock a few gentle squeezes before removing her hand, only opening my eyes when I felt the damp cloth applied to my chest.

"Thank you for not saying too much, Tom," she whispered, her cheeks bright red.

"Thank you, Mum," I whispered back.

"It's okay. I know you feel better now. You'll have to control yourself until tonight. I'm... I'm a little weirded out right now. I've just done something no mother should do for her son." But I was relieved when her other hand caressed my cheek. "But I did it because I love you."

"Love you too, Mum."

"Good. I'll start getting your breakfast ready before I have to get dressed for work."

Joining Mum for breakfast, I did my best to keep my face blank. Dad didn't seem to have a clue while my sister had her headphones on her ears and was busy on her phone. But when she did look at me, she'd return a slight smile. What surprised me was that she hugged me before leaving for school that day. She'd stopped hugging me ages ago, I assumed feeling awkward when she started going through puberty.