Paul pulled his car into the driveway and brought it to a halt. Stepping out of the car and slamming the door, he made his way to the front door and rang the bell. There was a pause. He could hear movement from within. Someone was coming. The door opened and there was his mother. She looked in good health, and she smiled, obviously pleased to see him. After all, it had been several months. She reached up and kissed him on the cheek.
"Lovely to see you Paul. Come in. I have a visitor."
She led the way in through the hall and to the living room. As they entered, her guest stood up. He was tall, slim, well built and clean-shaven, perhaps in his late 40s.
"This is John," said his mother.
"So this is your son," said John. "He's a fine looking man, ready to go. How do you do."
They shook hands. Paul glanced up at John's smiling face. He smiled back, to be polite. He felt the strength of John's handshake as they finished their pleasantries.
"John lives a few minutes away," said his mother. "He's been so kind recently, dropping by to see how I am and if I need anything at all. He's been a good friend."
"Actually I was just leaving," said John, getting up. "I'll see myself out. See you both again soon." With that, John strode for the front door and made his exit.
Paul took a seat. His mother did too.
"Glad to see you're settling in here," he said. "With Dad not being around any more, and you moving to a totally new area, I was worried that you might be lonely."
Paul's mother gave him a slightly sad look.
"Well, it has been lonely. Both the days and the nights, I still feel an emptiness inside."
Paul had been lonely too, though he decided not to mention it. He was 25, and had just split from his girlfriend. He missed the companionship, and the sex. He managed to keep fit though and was in good shape, at 6'1, slim and toned. Still, here he was, visiting his mother, and he was here to help.
He had to admit that his mother looked good for her age. She was 45, about 5'7, with long dark hair and a shapely figure. She didn't work out, but obviously she didn't need to. There were few wrinkles on her face and her stomach was beautifully flat. A pair of long, curvy legs completed the picture. But she didn't dress to show it all off, just modestly. She clearly wasn't trying to attract any new men into the picture.
After a quick bite to eat, Paul settled in. He had come to stay for a long weekend, and his mother showed him the spare room, so he could unpack. Then he set to work around the house, attending to any things that needed fixing, while his mother started to prepare the evening meal in the kitchen. He decided to hang a few pictures and went to the garage to find a hammer.
Now it had been some time since Paul had had sex, and a few days since he had jerked himself off. As it was, he was feeling quite horny and even while he made his way downstairs to get the tools he needed, he could feel his priorities shifting. He clearly wasn't going to find much sex in this sleepy village his mother lived in, so he thought about where he could go for some privacy. He could feel his cock and balls beginning to heat up under his trousers.
The garage seemed far enough away from the kitchen and his mother had left him to it, so he felt pretty safe. Shutting the door, he fumbled for his belt and quickly undid it. The buttons and zip followed, and he let his trousers slide down his legs to the floor. His underwear came next, releasing his now hardening cock to be exposed to the cool air. With one hand, he began to stroke his tool back and forth. It continued to harden, until it was standing, a fully erect 7 inches. He quickened his pace.
"Mmmm," he groaned, as he felt the pleasure building in his groin, and his balls begin to tingle.
Then he stopped stroking for a minute, and looked around. He needed something more to add to the pleasure. Spotting the handle of a hammer, long, smooth, and not too thick, he grabbed the tool from the shelf above his head. He knew to be careful, but he thought that what he had in mind would be pretty safe. Paul brought his other hand to his mouth and spat a thick gob of saliva onto his fingers. He reached down and around behind his back until his slimy fingers found his puckered asshole. Rubbing them gently around, he groaned again, continuing to lube himself up. Then he gently slid one finger inside himself. It felt good. He slid it out again. Then in and out, a few more times. A second finger went in the next time, and he noticed his anus loosening a touch. Two of his fingers explored around inside his rectum, gently stretching his hole. Then he pushed a third finger in. This felt tighter, but there was still no pain. He held the three fingers inside for a little while, getting used to the sensation. Then with a slight pop, he pulled them out. Feeling around his loosened hole, he could tell that he was ready.
Grasping the shaft of the hammer, he brought the end to his enlarged asshole, and pushed it slowly inside, relaxing his butt as much as he could. There was still no pain. He had prepared himself well. It went in so far, and then he felt it go no further. That was ok. He pulled it slowly out again, until the tip rested against his butthole. He pushed back in.
"Oh yeaaaah."
Paul closed his eyes as the sensations of fucking himself in the asshole began to get to him. He continued in a slow, steady rhythm, sliding the smooth shaft in and out of his backside. With his free hand, he reached around and grabbed his rock-hard shaft, and continued where he had left off.
"Unnngh. Ohhh. Yesss."
He thought he needed to try and get more of the shaft inside him. After all, he knew what he was doing. He bent forward, so that his butt was sticking out behind him. Easing it slowly once more, he took the shaft deeper inside him, then back out again. In and out, over and over, at just the right pace and rhythm.
All of a sudden, he felt the shaft stop. Someone had grabbed it further up. Who was it? He had heard no-one come in. He had played it so safe.
"You dirty boy."
Paul froze with shock. It was his mother's voice. His knees felt weak, and he grabbed a shelf next to him, almost falling. His until now hard cock began to shrivel.
What happened next shocked him even more. The shaft, which was about half way out of him, slid back in, until it could go no further.
"You want to be ass-fucked?"
He didn't have time to answer. His mother pulled the shaft quickly out, then slid it back in again. It was clear that she wasn't expecting an answer. She increased the rhythm, but she wasn't rough with it. Out and in, out and in.
Paul's thoughts were confused and racing. But his body wasn't arguing with the fucking he was receiving. His cock began to harden again, and he felt that familiar tingle in his balls.
