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.