One of the many legends surrounding mistletoe is that a girl standing, or, in my case, lying beneath a ball of mistletoe cannot refuse a boy’s kiss. I was lying in a hospital bed with my right leg in traction on Christmas Eve and someone had hung a huge ball of Mistletoe over my bed. All the doctors, male attendants, and any other guy who came into my private room kissed me and some of those kisses were anything but chaste.

There’s another legend that says Mistletoe is a strong aphrodisiac and I was starting to believe that one too. I was so sexually aroused that I was having mini orgasms without even touching myself. My whole body felt as if it was rotating on a spit over a flaming Bar-B-Q pit. At some point during the early afternoon hours, I tossed the thin sheet that had been covering me on the floor. Someone picked it up, folded it neatly, and placed it on a chair. I wanted to finger fuck myself in the worse way, but I couldn’t masturbate because I never knew when someone was going to pop in to kiss me.

Paul, my eighteen year old son, arrived just before visiting hours ended. Visiting hours ended but no one told him that he had to leave. Instead, they told him that he could spend the night with me if he wanted to and I was about to discover just how much he wanted to spend the night with me. We sat, or, rather he sat and I laid, in amicable silence until after the shift change at 11 PM. After the nurses made their rounds he got up and closed the door to my private room. Walking back over to where I laid, he pulled the privacy curtain closed around my bed as he glanced up at the Mistletoe. Sitting down on the edge of my bed he leaned over and kissed me full on the lips.

My first reaction was to push him away because sons do not kiss their mothers on the lips. They certainly don’t shove their tongues down their mother’s throats the way Paul was shoving his down mine. Then I was shocked to realize that I was kissing him back just as passionately as he was kissing me. Instead of pushing him away, I grabbed his hair with one of my hands and pulled his mouth tighter against my mouth. My body took on a life of its own as it responded to his kiss, my free hand undoing his belt and the snap and zipper on his Jeans. Reaching inside his Jeans, I pushed down his boxer shorts, freeing his throbbing erection. The size of his cock took my breath away; his shaft was so thick that I could barely wrap my hand around it. As I slid my hand slowly down his throbbing shaft to cup and massage his huge nut sack, he unbuttoned my night shirt and pushed it off my inflamed body.

I moaned against his mouth as his fingers found my straining nipples. Taking the between his thumb and forefinger, first one then the other, he pinched them gently, stretching them, milking them until they grew into hard thimbles of flesh. I had never felt them get so erect, so hard. My nipples throbbed like to fiery-hot coals atop my cooler tit flesh. They felt so swollen that I was sure they were about to explode at any second.

Finally, pulling my mouth from his, I spoke for the first time that night.

“Paul, honey, we shouldn’t be doing this but I need this so much. I need to cumm so fucking bad.

I haven’t been with a man since your father died two years ago…”

“Shush, mom. I want you just as much as you want me.”

“I want you inside me, honey, but how can we with my leg in traction?”

“There will be plenty of time for me to fuck your brains out after you come home. Tonight I’m going to eat your pussy out until you cream all over my face.”

With that said he stood up and stripped out of his clothes before straddling my head with his knees. Lowering his face between my thighs, he licked and kissed my soft, sensitive inner thighs, working his way slowly up to my blood engorged pussy lips. As his tongue slid between my sopping wet lips, my hips tried to trust my mound up against his mouth, but he held me down against the mattress so I wouldn’t hurt my leg. As he probed deeper with his tongue, I reached up and pulled his cock down to my waiting mouth. I had never sucked a man’s cock before because my husband would never have oral sex with me, he felt it was an unnatural act, but somehow I still knew exactly what to do. Slowly I worked that beautiful hunk of meat deeper down my throat until his huge, hairy balls rested on my chin. Taking his hairy nut sack in my hand, I massaged them as I worked my throat furiously around his shaft. I could feel his steamy-hot pre cum dripping down my throat as I felt myself soaring upwards towards my own release. As I teetered on the edge of that bottomless abyss of orgasmic bliss, I felt his jism swirling around in his nut sack, preparing for that final dash to freedom.

Finally, his tongue found my clit. Running the tip of his tongue around and over my throbbing clit, Paul pushed me over the edge, sending me plunging headfirst into a sea of orgasmic ecstasy. As my orgasm rolled over me like a powerful wave breaking over a rocky shore, I felt his cock erupt deep inside my throat. I worked my throat muscles even harder, trying to swallow every drop of his jism, not wanting to waste a single drop of his sweet cumm. Wave after wave of orgasms continued to roll over me as he continued shooting off inside my throat, each mighty jet of his jism setting off another wave of orgasms for me. I had never come so long or so hard during sex before.

When we both finally stopped cumming, Paul stretched out on the bed beside me and took my face in his hands and kissed me again. For the first time in my 38 years I tasted my own juices. Our kisses were gentle and loving this time. They weren’t the fiery, passionate kisses we had shared earlier, but they were sweet and full of promises of more love to come. As sleep started to overtake us, Paul rolled over against me, placing his knee gently between my thighs, pressing it tightly against my well satisfied pussy. We woke up just at 5 AM to discover that someone had thrown a sheet over us during the night.

Paul spent almost every night with me in the hospital and no one seemed to mind. All the nurses knew that Paul was my son, but that didn.t bother them any either. They all seem to feel that as long as loved one another that that was all that really mattered and we agree with them.

When I finally left the hospital that February…well, I save that for another time.