Sunrise To Sunset free porn video

Chet frowned at his laptop, although in a general way frowned more at the world, not the little bit of frustration he was feeling over the limitations of the graphics function of his spreadsheet program. It was Friday, mid-morning already, heading into the weekend, but he was quite frankly pissed off and frustrated at Oana’s sulkiness lately.

Her latest tirade, just as he was leaving for the train, was minor, but yet another stone digging into his shoulders, added to the weight of what seemed hundreds of others accumulated over their five years of marriage. Their finances were good, better than ever, but her moods threatened to derail the last of their dwindling happiness.

Chet rose from the workstation, unable to bring his mind to bear on solving the mundane problem on his laptop, and left his office in search of coffee, hoping for a caffeine driven respite from both work and home. He grabbed his mug, emblazoned with “Cel mai sexy sot,” a gift from Oana on their first wedding anniversary. It meant “Sexiest Husband” in her native Romanian, but now it seemed a darkly humorous joke. They hadn’t been intimate for three months now, as she grew more incensed at his failure to get…what?

When arguing, she would often begin spouting Romanian, which he spoke, of course, none of. It only served to contribute to the gap between them, now a crevasse, and growing wider it seemed daily. All he felt he could do was comfort her, but he had no idea what to comfort her about, and c***dishly he turned to harsh words. Grimly, he shook his head, knowing he still loved his fiery raven-haired girl, but wondering if they were no longer destined to be together.

“Heya, Chet!” He turned to see Wendy, the Acquisitions manager, a very sexy twenty-ish blonde. Her hair was cut short, in a unisex style once called a pageboy, but on her it was very feminine. She had an elfin face that he’d seen transform in a moment from innocent to wickedly lustful, and a voice that suggested, even promised, untold delights. His thoughts had turned to her more than once, and just this morning, in the shower, he had jacked off to the thought of her naked body pressed against his, shooting his load as he imagined gazing down into her eyes as she sucked him off, and fantasized about her swallowing every drop, slurping it up with love in her eyes, the way Oana once had.

“Wendy! How are things?” He wasn’t sure if she sensed his attraction to her, but she probably had any number of men who wanted, or could have, her, so he assumed she probably didn’t distinguish between any particular source of attention.

“Same shit, different day, Chet. You look preoccupied.” It was intended as a conversation starter, and a tempting one.

He didn’t want to say anything about his troubles, especially to a woman he, and probably every other man and a few women in the building, lusted after. They had shared drinks, and nothing else, at a conference two months ago, talking about inconsequential matters, mostly work. If they went for drinks now, he wasn’t sure he would be able to keep from talking too much, or diving into bed if she so much as crooked a finger to him.

“Yeah, plenty of shit to go around.” He sipped his coffee, and then made an excuse to head back to the relative safety of his office. If only Oana understood what he was going through, it would all be alright.



Oana wanted to cry, but from long experience knew it would only make her temples ache, and her face puffy. She was furious at Chet, and at herself, for the argument, a stupid battle in what she suspected was a losing war. Her love for him was as potent as ever, but he could be so unaware. Even after nearly a decade in his life and his bed, she felt like they were communicating less and fighting more.

She had taken the day off from the gallery, and now sat across from her grandmother, her bunica, cradling a teacup at the small kitchen table. The two of them had immigrated to the United States twelve years ago after the accident that had claimed the rest of their family. The old woman had somehow managed to save them both during the collapse, and then find their way onto a boat bound for the New World.

Back then, everything had seemed possible after the tragedy. A new country, opportunities she probably would never have found in Europe, and then, as if in answer to her prayers, Chet. Handsome, intelligent and loving, she had never conceived of such happiness. Marrying him had been something only a complete fool would have refused, but now it was all unravelling. If only she could make him understand…

“Oana, is it worse?”

“Oh, much worse, bunica. He hasn’t touched me in months, and hasn’t kissed me in almost as long. I want him so much, but…but, I…don’t know why this is going so wrong.” The tears neared the surface, but she sniffed them back, not wanting to cry in front of the older woman again.

“I can help.”

“No, bunica! You can’t talk to him for me! This is something I have to do myself. Fuck!”

Her grandmother brought her hand to Oana’s face, more than a pat, less than a slap. “You are a lady, and you do not use gutter language. I will not speak to him. You will speak to Chet. With my help.”

Oana’s eyes flicked downwards, ashamed at her cursing. She had become Americanized and more of a cosmopolitan, which didn’t seem so wonderful now, with her marriage and her life crumbling. “I’m sorry, bunica.”

“You are forgiven. Now, I have thought on your troubles, and you must do this. It will either save your marriage, or end it.” She pulled a small pouch, gray with a yellow drawstring, out of her apron. “This is what you will do…” The old woman explained for just under two minutes.

Oana didn’t want to hope, but maybe this would work, somehow. “Yes, bunica.”



It was already dusk, and Chet had once looked forward to the weekends with his gorgeous wife, Saturday and Sunday mornings in bed, naked and making love loudly on into the afternoon. Oana had been eager to learn all about how to please Chet, and tried things she had only heard whispered at home in the old country. Her native curiosity had given way to full-blown enthusiasm, and she had changed from a shy girl, new to the ways of sex, to an avid participant, then to assertive, if not overtly aggressive. He had, for his part, been eager to turn the keys to her heart and the rest of her body, and tried many things to please her, the vast majority of which had once worked.

He knew how the weekend would go, how they would sit at home, politely not speaking to avoid whatever dispute would get them going, going to bed hours apart, eager to evade the sight or the feel or the sound of one another. She had even taken to locking the bathroom when she showered and changed, though he didn’t know she felt the same hurt and longing he felt when she did that.

Steeling himself, he walked in the door and set his briefcase on the floor just inside. Shrugging off his windbreaker, he deposited both in the guest closet, and walked into the kitchen. Oana was there, of course, but the rest surprised him. He had missed the scent of her family’s goulash recipe, but it hit his nose and stomach the minute he entered the kitchen.

Oana had done her hair up. He could also smell the faint lavender and jasmine of her favorite bubble bath on her skin, and she was wearing a silk robe. It clung to her skin, and lack of seams or subtle creases revealed that she wore nothing underneath. She smiled at him, a little shyly, as if they were first dating. “Chet, I’m so glad you are home!” She threw her arms around him, clutching him tightly, then kissed him on his lips, a quick peck.

Stunned by the turnaround of his wife’s mood, Chet didn’t quite know what to do. He kissed back, but she pulled away with a wicked grin, as she had done so many times when they first dated in college, her way of telling him she would “give up the goodies,” but on her timetable. “Two things, iubitul meu.” He knew her meaning, “my lover,” again words she had spoken often before and after their wedding vows, and not at all recently. “First, get cleaned up. A shower. Then put on your robe and bring your appetite for dinner. Then, we talk.”

“Do I really need to shower?”

Oana looked coolly at him, one hand on her hip while the other stirred dinner. “Shower. The water will cleanse you, as we will cleanse many things this weekend. Go!”



Chet shaved afterwards, too, just for good measure. The thick burgundy robe extended to his knees, and down to his elbows, and he dispensed, as Oana had, with underwear. Maybe she decided to make the best of things, and just ignore her frustration with him. He could do the same, he was sure, and knew that at the end of the day, any day, he loved her and she loved him. He hoped it was enough.

Oana had the lights off, and three candles illuminated the room, set in an equilateral triangle on the table, the apex towards him, and the base, two candles, on her side. She served him first, then herself, and they started to eat. It was delicious as always, and softened his own exasperation almost completely. Even so, they ate in silence, casting their eyes tentatively towards each other. Chet noticed her robe was open to her waist, and her nipples were only just hidden behind the rose patterned fabric.

Afterwards, she motioned for him to stay seated as she cleaned the dishes and placed them in the dishrack, and put the remaining goulash in their fridge. The candles had burned halfway down before she joined him at the table. He waited for her to speak first, deciding that she obviously had something to say, and that dinner was a preamble.

“Chet, I love you. I always have, iubitul meu. These past weeks have been difficult for both of us, and you need to know, I need to speak, my decision. I have decided to stay, to continue to be your wife. But there are things to say, and to do, to cement that bond. Do you agree?”

“Always, but…were you leaving me?”

Her smile lit the room even more than the candles. “No, Chet. I feared you were leaving me, my darling. I’m just saying I’m going to go to war…”

She was still mastering certain idioms. “Do you mean fight?”

“No, go to war. I’m sure you’ve noticed other women since we stopped being naked together, showering and making love all the time. Beautiful women who want you to bed them, wake up with them and start all over fucking them all morning, all day, as we should do again. I will not permit this, and I’m not just saying no to them, but yes to you, my husband.”

Chet blinked. Oana was firm, resolute, and this was the most passionate she had been about their marriage in at least two years. This was the woman he had fallen in love with. “I’ll do whatever it takes, Oana.” This was also the first time he’d spoken her name in weeks, he realized.

She smiled again, relief apparent in her eyes. “Good. We have trouble understanding each other, knowing each other’s wants and needs, true?”

“Yes.” That had been, more than the frustration over meaningless little squabbles, at the root of his troubles, and also hers, he now understood.

Oana looked at him lovingly. “We will understand each other better. Going forward.” She had used one of his favorite terms, an idiom that she had taken the time to fully understand for their talk and what came next. He felt his love for her begin to grow again.

She poured two glasses of wine, filling them halfway; he hadn’t noticed the bottle tucked away on one of the other seats, nor the glasses. It was rich and red, smelling of berries and cinnamon. She set his in front of him, then hers. He noticed that his was centered on the apex of the triangle, and hers in the very center of the base on her side. “Wait to drink.”

From the folds of her robe, she pulled a small drawstring pouch, grey, with a lemon yellow string, and opened it. She took a small measuring spoon and put it inside almost reverently, pulling out less than a quarter of a teaspoon of fragrant yellow powder, redolent with the scent of cardamom, cinnamon and other sweet-smelling odors he couldn’t identify. She then put it in her glass, and a second in his. Pulling the string tight, she stowed the pouch back in her robe, and stirred each glass with the spoon.

“They called my grandmother, my bunica, a witch. Wise woman is more correct. I told you she was responsible for saving me from the building that collapsed around my family.”

“Magic, Oana?” He was skeptical, but willing still to try anything to have her back.

“Magic, feh. She just knows things. This is an old Romanian remedy, a gypsy thing. Very rare, and she has been gathering and mixing it for over two months, since I told her about our fights. She had it for me this morning, and told me not to waste any of our time.” A small chuckle. “I think she would like it if we stayed together and grew our family, Chet.”

An aphrodisiac, he scoffed inwardly. Still, if Oana wanted to try this, believed in its efficacy, and if it saved their marriage, their relationship, he would try it. “So what now?”

Her answer was to stand up and remove her robe, letting it slip off her shoulders to the floor, and stand naked before him. She was as lovely as the first time he laid eyes on her, slightly dark skin, full breasts, and the thick, luxurious triangle of curly hair at her crotch, even darker than her hair or eyes. He had often told her that an earring and a patchwork dress were all she needed to play the part of a gypsy for real, knowing that was a part of her own culture, even if not her actual lineage. She had smiled then, and he believed it even more now, watching her grace and poise.

“Stand, my husband, and get naked.” Her smile was lustful, but she made no move to reach for him.

Chet rose from his chair, let his robe fall to the floor, and he saw her eye him up and down with sincere appreciation. His erection was at half-mast, as if it was waiting for a signal or permission to rise to full attention, and biding its time meanwhile.

She stirred both glasses again, and handed him his. “Sit again, Chet. Don’t drink yet. I have to say a chant. A prayer,” she amended quickly. Her voice dropped an octave as she intoned the words she had practiced with her bunica hours ago. She didn’t know quite what would happen, but she was eager to try anything, determined to save their marriage.

Răsărit până la apus;
Plimbați-vă unul în pantofii celuilalt.

“Now drink, my love, iubitul meu.” She drained her glass, and so did he. He stepped around the table and took her in his arms. She felt his cock straining at her belly, and gave herself over to a long kiss before pulling away.

“Not yet, my darling.” He heard the soft ‘k’ sound, like Natasha in the Bullwinkle cartoons. “We go to bed, and we sleep.”

“Sleep?” He wanted her right now, but kept himself restrained. “But I’m ready for you now, my love!”

Regretfully, she looked at his hard-on. “Old Romanian folk remedy. Or fuck remedy.” The wine and the powder made her a little loopy, and she giggled. “No, Chet, we go to bed and sleep. It is the weekend, my favorite English word, because I spend them with you. But we do not get to fuck tonight, my husband. In the morning at sunrise.”

His erection was almost painful now, and he wanted desperately to plunge his cock inside her, and hear her moans as they both came. The scent of her pussy and the thick black pubic thatch was warm and sweet in the kitchen air, and he needed to clear the table and take her on it, the first time in three months and the first time of what would be a very long, joyous weekend.

As if reading his mind, she said almost apologetically. “I want you too, Chet. I want you inside me. If you were to touch me I would explode, and you could do almost anything with me, to me, and I would crave it. But now we go to bed and sleep. Then in the morning we will begin to understand and learn about each other. Convenit?”

He didn’t know the word, but understood her intent. She followed him to bed, and they crawled in beside each other. She was careful not to touch him right now; her bunica had been clear on that point. They desired each other more than anything, and needed to withhold their desires for the whole night for this to work. Not even kissing him goodnight was allowed, lest it break the carefully crafted spell before it started its work. “And no thinking of this Wendy, Chet. You whispered her name a couple of times this past week when sleeping. She is one of the ones I’m going to war with. No sleeping with the enemy, or masturbating to her. Agreed?”

In truth, Chet was overcome with exhaustion now, although he had considered, briefly, jacking off after Oana fell asleep. “Agreed,” he murmured. In moments he was asleep, and she followed only moments later.



Chet woke up, disoriented, barely remembering the previous night. Opening his eyes just a crack, he saw first light glimmering under the blinds, and remembered she had promised him they would fuck at sunrise. He noticed he was facing the wrong way, and had somehow wound up on Oana’s side of the bed. She would be pissed if they had fucked in their sleep, and the fact he didn’t remember having done so didn’t mean a thing, according to the thick feeling between his ears, and the sluggish feeling throughout his body.

Eyes closed again, he rolled over, and noticed an odd sensation at his chest, like he was wearing a too-bulky sweatshirt. He knew he was still naked, and the sheets felt wonderful on his bare skin, but he didn’t feel a stiffening hard-on. Thinking it was the wine, he reached out to Oana, on his side of the bed. She was naked too, facing away from him, and he felt her bottom, surprised momentarily at how it didn’t feel as soft or rounded as usual. This, too, he put down to the wine.

Oana stirred at his touch, and he felt her roll over. There was a pause, then she gasped, a small intake of air, loud in their bedroom “Ce naiba?” The voice was soft, but no less shocked, maybe even horrified. It was also undeniably masculine, and Chet’s eyes shot open.

He saw himself, but different, before realizing he’d only seen himself naked in a mirror, so of course it would be different looking at himself directly. Shaking his head sharply, he looked again. His eyes, his body’s eyes, were wide and staring at him. He looked down at his own body, suspecting what he would see, and he was right.

Instead of his hairy chest, he saw two full breasts, and soft downy hairs on his arms and legs. Instead of the erection he would ordinarily expect, he saw a lush, black bush, and he knew if he reached down and touched it, he would feel wetness and a delightfully responsive clitoris. He also felt like he should be recoiling in horror at the changes he and Oana had undergone, but he felt an unaccustomed acceptance, almost a serenity, despite his brain’s feeble attempts to freak out. Oana looked similarly tranquil.

“Iubitul meu.” It was her words, and his voice.

Still a little woozy, he said, “Babe?” His words, her voice.

He watched his arms reach over and caress his breasts, and her body move closer, encircling his waist. He looked down and saw his erect cock, pressing against his bush. “I didn’t know, darling.” Again the soft ‘k’ at the end.

“What did your grandmother say? Exactly?” He could barely put the words together, and he suspected that his relatively panic-free responses so far could be chalked up to the numbing effect of whatever they had imbibed with the wine. Everything seemed fresh and new, and disturbingly normal, because they should both be basket cases at this turn of events. Somehow he was able to process the change, and knew with utter certainty the powder and the wine, maybe the incantation too, had made this happen, and made them accept it.

“She said we would…understand each other better.”

“That chant… Was it Romanian?”

He saw his head nod, and tried to ignore the feel of his body’s hairy chest against his nipples, and noticed they stiffened and became even more sensitive. He wanted to fuck her hard, then looked down again, and realized she would have to fuck him. Instead of revulsion, he felt excited at the thought of a hard-on penetrating his pussy.

Oana was having similar thoughts, and paused before answering. “It was.” She laughed, a deep chuckle that sounded more nervous than anything. “So strange. I have your dick, and you look very lovely.”

Chet laughed too, a bubbly, feminine sound, and brought himself up short at the weirdness of it. “It’s how you look every morning, my gorgeous girl. And I have to admit my cock looks…ready.”

“Baby, this is so odd. I’m in your body, and it feels so…wonderful and different. Your pulă is so hard, so eager…” She ran her hand over her erection, and sipped in air at the sensation, then she tentatively patted Chet at the crotch, and he felt one of her fingers linger over his slit, sliding in between his pussy lips. He was wet, ready for Oana to…what? “And your…my…pizdă is so warm and moist.”

Chet grabbed Oana’s hand, and guided it inside him. Feeling the parting of his pussy lips, he tried to groan, but gave a high-pitched cry instead. It felt divine and sexy, and he gave in, not caring for the moment that he had the wet and waiting cunt, and his wife had the stiff cock to service him. He just wanted to give himself over to sheer lust, and did. “Oana, I want you to finger my pussy. Make me cum, baby.”

Oana stuck her middle finger all the way in experimentally, then pulled it out, before plunging it in again, deeper. Soon, Chet felt her middle finger, then two fingers, thrusting in and out of his pussy. He felt the sensation deeper, in the center of his belly, and reached down to his clit. Massaging it, he knew he was cumming very soon, but it felt different from his own orgasms when he put his cock inside her pussy or her mouth.

Chet gave up trying to figure it out, and just lay back. “Finger fuck me, Oana!”

Oana started working his pussy faster, a smooth in-and-out motion that drove him wild. The nub at the top of his pussy started to throb, and he knew this was an orgasm, one of Oana’s orgasms, and he was about to feel it instead of her. He arched his back, and his moan grew to a veritable shriek as the orgasm tore through him, sending waves of pleasure through the body he was wearing, radiating from the hole Oana’s fingers roamed inside, stretching and rubbing.

“Don’t…stop…Oana.” He gasped as a second, then a third orgasm washed over him, and he felt incredible. The smell of his pussy juices filled the air, and it made him even hotter. He knew what he needed, and what Oana needed more than anything. Instead of drowsy, Chet felt almost energized, and ready for whatever happened next.

Gently touching Oana’s fingers, he kissed her for the first time. Their tongues met and danced in their mouths, the most normal feeling until he opened his eyes and looked into his own. “Oana, you need to cum, baby.” He lay back and spread his legs for her. “Put it in me. Fuck my pussy, Oana, cum inside me.”

Oana pulled her fingers out, lingering at his pussy lips and stroking them gently. “Are you sure, Chet?” She was hesitant, obviously, even with the lingering effects of the wine. Chet thought she should have been able to do as he had, just ignore the oddness and fuck him.

“So sure. I just came, and you need it too.” He pulled her over on top of him, and felt her take his usual position between his legs. He reached down, and felt the hard-on for the first time, almost demurring and just jacking Oana off instead. At the same time, he felt a deep ache inside, an empty feeling that yearned to be filled with a cock. “Do it, Oana. Fuck me, baby.”

Apprehensively, she pulled back, and Chet felt the rigid flesh against, between his lips. Without any further word, he guided the head into the right spot, and whispered, “Push, Oana. Fill my pizdă with your cum…” He felt her cock enter, and gasped as he felt it penetrate and fill him, very gratifying and literally fulfilling. He felt Oana’s bush press against his, then pull back and crush itself against him again.

Oana needed no coaching to know how to fuck. She had always been on the receiving end, and, incredible as that felt, being inside a pussy was something she had never done. She let Chet’s body take over, and felt herself starting to pump her cock in and out of him. The feel of the hot and moist aperture around her cock was so different, surrounded instead of surrounding, covering the length of her cock, the slight cooling at the base of her shaft as she pulled out, and feeling of warmth as she pushed it back inside. Oana waited for the slow build-up she was accustomed to, but instead she felt a more rapid escalation, and knew she couldn’t hold it back, didn’t want to.

She pounded Chet’s pussy frantically, not wanting to finish so soon, but wanting to cum so much it robbed her of her self-control. Remembering the first time she and Chet made love, years ago, it made sense to her now that he hadn’t lasted, couldn’t have lasted inside her. Oana felt her hips speed up, and marveled at how incredibly sexy her body was, and no wonder Chet had been so eager to make love to her, and no wonder he hadn’t lasted long enough the first time, and no wonder he loved to have his cock inside her, and no wonder…

She thrust inside him as far as she could go, feeling herself flooding him with her semen. A long, anguished and joyful scream split the air, dissolving into a frenzied panting in time to her cum filling his pussy anew with each thrust. It was still pulsing, jetting hot cum into Chet, when she collapsed onto him. Chet held her, and felt her pull her cock out slowly.

“Oh, Chet, it was so…so different, my darling.” She sounded tired and invigorated at the same time, her hairy chest heaving against his tits.

“Me, too. When I came it was so…different,” he finished lamely, wishing he’d had another word for it.

“Darling, it was so intense. I never knew how fucking my pussy felt. How do you keep yourself from cumming too fast?”

“Practice, baby. Not easy, though. You are so fucking hot, and feeling what you feel is so weird compared to my orgasms. It just flowed all through me, everywhere. I wanted to feel you inside me, in my, um, your cunt. That was incredible.”

Oana rolled off Chet, and they snuggled for a while before Oana felt herself begin to stiffen, and Chet started stroking the burgeoning erection, still moist with his pussy juices. He laughed, actually giggled, when Oana’s cock twitched at his touch. Then he realized something that put him completely out of the mood, at least for the moment.

He climbed out of bed, wobbling at the unusual distribution of weight as he stood. “Oana, I, uh, I need to pee…” He tottered to the bathroom and shut the door. A couple of minutes later, he stepped out of the bathroom, and suggested Oana follow suit. She had a couple of questions, to which Chet just told her to aim carefully.

When Oana joined him back in bed, he snuggled in to her. Oana stroked his breasts and rear end and he stroked her ass too.

“Oana, what the Hell?”

“I already said that, but in Romanian.”

“Okay, still. Why are we in each other’s bodies? And why are we so calm about it? It seems to me we should both be at least a little alarmed, and I would have assumed at least some discussion before we made love, before I let you put your cock in my cunt, or my cock in your cunt. Right?”

Oana shook her head, his head. “It was my bunica’s, well, spell, I suppose. She said we would understand each other after doing all this.” She moved her arm to encompass the whole bed. “It was wonderful, darling, but I didn’t know what would happen, that this would happen.”

“At least you knew something would happen, baby.” He shifted his breasts, which were squished and uncomfortable beneath Oana’s arm.

“Not this, my darling Chet! I swear to you, she just wanted to help us understand each other!”

He kissed her softly on the lips. “I believe you, but I’m a little concerned. How long does this last? Am I going to have wear a dress to work on Monday morning? Or telecommute?” He hadn’t even considered long-term effects, not while they were fucking, and it still seemed a little distant and unreal, even now, even after their session of lovemaking.

Oana shook her head. “No. She said ‘Răsărit până la apus’. It means ‘sunrise to sunset’, and it will end when the sun goes down, or as soon as we sleep after sundown. One or the other.”

“And the rest?”

“Ah, Plimbați-vă unul în pantofii celuilalt. Walk in each other’s shoes.”

“So, we get to spend the day in each other’s skin, then. Sounds like effective therapy.”

She laughed. “We need to shower and start our day, darling. We smell like sex.” With that, she stood up, bracing her male body against the bed for balance. “Very odd how we take walking for granted so much. Do you want me to take the first shower?”

Chet got out of bed. “Let’s do this together. Also, I don’t suggest shaving. I’ll take care of that in the morning.”

Oana chuckled again.

“What?”

“I guess it’s good I don’t shave my pussy. That’s harder than doing your face the first time, and I hear it’s more painful if you nick yourself.”

Chet thought a moment. “Yeah, you’d look good with a shaved pussy, actually.” He opened the door for Oana, who arched an eyebrow at his chivalric impulse, and went in first.

Their shower was roomy enough for four, and had plenty of space for the two of them, whether they wanted to be next to each other or not. Oana started the water, and once the temperature was comfortable for both of them, stepped into the shower, extending a hand for Chet.

Chet soaped Oana’s back, using the hairs on her back, his back, to work up a satisfying lather, and started in on her front. Facing her, he gave into the overwhelming urge to kiss her. They stood there for several minutes, kissing and fondling one another, and he felt her erection returning. He still felt this was a bit surreal, and supposed Oana felt the same way. Either way, he felt no trepidation about the two of them being each other. He should have felt more uncomfortable, he knew, but it was probably an effect of the powder, or spell, or whatever.

He reached down between Oana’s legs, and started massaging her dick, and marveled at how it felt getting hard in his hands. He’d masturbated for many years, but the orientation, the viewpoint, was so new, and that made it very erotic. He felt a quiver that started at his clit and made his heart skip a beat, and he told Oana, who nodded to confirm that was something she felt often.

“Babe, does it feel like this when you jack me off?”

“Excited? Yes, very much.” She closed her eyes, leaning back as Chet soaped her up, and began working the head of her cock. “That feels so good, darling.” This time the soft ‘k’ was blurred with the awareness that her husband was masturbating her impossible erection.

“Well, you already came once. Inside me. In my pussy.” Chet felt like he needed to remind them both of that fact, and felt deliciously naughty saying it. “Do you want to cum again, babe?”

“How will you make me cum, darling? Let me cum inside you again, or you jack me off here in the shower?” She was the taller one, still only by inches, and looked down into his eyes, favoring him with a lust-filled grin.

“I have another idea, babe. I love it when you suck my cock.” He grinned back at her. “How do you say blowjob in Romanian?”

“Roughly muistă, but it’s rude. It means cocksucker, like a whore.” She stopped, considering for a moment. “But I admit I like it, darling, even if whores do it. Maybe especially since whores do it. I love to feel sinful sometimes when we’re naked together.”

Chet stroked just the swollen purple head of her erection with his fingertips, and kissed her again. “Baby, I’m going to suck your cock, be your own little muistă for this morning. Do you like the thought of taking my cock in your mouth? Or vice versa?” Chet’s tits quivered a little at the prospect.

Oana nodded. “Yes, please by my little muistă, darling. Hmmm. So what will you ask for in exchange? When we’re done. Something special, perhaps?”

“I’ll think of something. Or you will, Oana.” Chet knelt, and realized how uncomfortable the tile was on his borrowed knees, so he changed to a squat, opening his legs and exposing his lush pubic thatch to his wife. “I’m sure whatever it is I will like it.”

Chet looked at Oana’s cock, really his, from an angle he’d never seen it before. If I were me, in my body, I’m not sure I’d like this. But Oana does, or maybe tolerates it for my sake. He wondered whether he was taking her for granted, and opted at that instant not to take her for granted, and to show Oana exactly how much he loved her.

He leaned forward and took her hard-on in his mouth. Careful not to graze it with his teeth, an unpleasant experience he’d had before with another woman in college, he settled the underside of her thickening shaft onto his tongue, and took it all the way in. Like everything else that morning, it was new and exhilarating. The cock swelled further, and he worried that he might finish her off too quickly, even though he was looking forward to it.

A little bit of soap from Oana’s chest washed down onto her cock, and the taste of it, a sharp chemical and floral taste, made Chet wince, and turned towards the shower spray, opening his mouth to rinse it away, then renewed his efforts after rinsing her erection clear of the soap. He felt Oana begin to sway in and out of his mouth, rocking her hips and pushing her pole into his mouth, still gently. He grasped her ass, and started guiding her timing and depth of her thrusts. Oana’s thighs rubbed against Chet’s nipples, and he stifled a moan around the loaned cock in his mouth.

Oana’s breathing came more raggedly, and Chet knew she was close. He wondered how it would feel when she came in his mouth, whether she really enjoyed, or just endured, it. She caressed the top of his head, and the sides of his face, moaning louder as she got closer. Chet looked up, and saw tears coming from her eyes, and it looked like tears of joy. He’d felt this way with her, and wondered if she was overwhelmed with the feeling of his cocksucking, or just overwhelmed with joy at his loving attention.

He felt her stomach tense and quiver, and reached for her balls, cradling and kneading the sac gently, just like he liked her to do, and felt the first shudder that he knew foretold a huge orgasm. “Oh, darling!” Oana’s voice was caught between his vocal register and hers, and Chet felt his own pussy and clit pulsate in sympathy.

Her first spurt jetted out into his mouth, and he fought against the sudden gag reflex, turning his face downward to let the next spurts dribble out, instead of barging down his throat. It was thick and hot, and he didn’t care for the taste, but swallowed some of it anyway, because that’s what Oana always did, and he wanted to demonstrate he loved her just as much.

At the same time, he let his fingers drift down to his pussy, playing with his clit, which was now swollen with desire, and trembled to his own touch. He rubbed it gently, quickly, and felt himself cum, even as Oana’s orgasm began to subside. Chet swallowed the last of her cum, and turned his face to the spray from the shower, rinsing his mouth and face.

Oana held him close, before saying, “Same as I do, Chet. You don’t like my cum in your mouth, do you?”

He kissed her. “It’s not so bad. Your goulash is much better, but you enjoyed it, right?” Oana nodded. “Then it was worth it, babe.”

Oana held him to her chest before kissing him. “So you know why I do it, why I love to do it for you?”

“Yes, baby.” He kissed her back, and rubbed her flaccid penis with one hand.

They finished their shower, and toweled off before heading to the kitchen for breakfast. Oana cooked bacon and eggs, with one English muffin apiece, and while those were cooking, they grabbed their robes from the floor, each helping the other don it. Oana loved the heavy, thick feel of Chet’s robe, and Chet felt her silken one caress every inch of his body, especially his nipples, which stood erect and easily discernible through the diaphanous fabric.

“Oana, I don’t know how you can stand this. Just putting this on makes me feel so…sensuous and naughty. It’s almost sexier than being naked.”

“That’s why I wore it last night, darling. I wanted to want you, wanted to feel like I had to have you. That robe, I didn’t wear it the last three months. And now you’re wearing it, and I think you wear it very well, my husband.” She put her hands on his hips from behind, and nestled up against him, kissing the nape of his neck. He felt her cock, already semi-hard, between his buttocks through the two robes. “You also excite me.”

They ate quickly, and decided to stay in for the day, for several reasons. The debate, such as it was, ended quickly in agreement. First, they didn’t want to slip up in front of anyone else, nor field questions they dared not answer honestly. Second, the spell had a specific purpose, and both felt they needed to fulfill that purpose by staying together at home, since this wasn’t a minor issue, either the spell or their marriage. Third, both of them had denied their sexual urges for three months, and wanted to be available for each other the minute the opportunity arose to work some of their friskiness off.

With the curtains closed firmly, they dispensed with the robes soon after, and sat on the couch, making out and fondling each other. Oana played with his pussy some more, going more slowly now, and Chet savored the orgasms, almost a continuous string of them, for nearly an hour, before begging off any more.

“Baby, that was so nice. I never really get that patient with you. You just went so slowly,” he arched his back and wriggled with pleasure. “Do you like that? I mean when I do that slowly?”

“Yes, Chet, iubitul meu. We don’t always have to be slow and deliberate, but an occasional low and patient simmer can feel better than a rolling boil.”

Chet was feeling much more amorous, and was amazed that, with all the orgasms he was having today, he wasn’t exhausted. Oana was showing some of the diminished energy from cumming in the shower and in Chet’s pussy, but he noted that she was once again getting ready for him. The thick, fleshy rod attracted him, and he wanted it inside again. Oana sat on the couch, her cock sticking almost straight up. Chet got up and straddled her, feeling her cock between his labia, before settling upon it, letting it slide up into his vagina.

“Oh, Oana, baby. Cum inside me again.” She answered by starting to suck on one of his tits, a magnificent feeling that made him shiver up and down his whole body. “Fuck me, baby.”

Oana gripped his hips, and started rocking him on her erection. He rode her blissfully, feeling her erection against his walls, and knew why she liked the position when their roles, their bodies were reversed. Oana started nibbling and sucking on his breasts, each one in turn, igniting a line directly to Chet’s clit, which responded each time to his tits being sucked. Oana’s hands kept gripping his hips and ass, and he knew he was going to cum again, and the Oana would eventually cum, but three times in one day used to be Chet’s limit. Did that limit count for Oana?

He realized that his pussy didn’t feel sore or tender from the repeated poundings he had taken from her fingers and cock all morning. Another side effect of the powder, he decided just as another climax reached out for him.

“Oana, fuck me, baby. Oh, you’re so hard and sexy. Put that pulă inside me! Oh, cum, baby…” He hoped he was pronouncing it correctly, but it didn’t seem to matter to her.

Oana was humping for all she was worth, and her next cumshot, she feared, would be her last for the day. Nearly exhausted, she moved Chet’s rump even faster, letting her hands and arms do the work her tired erection could no longer sustain. Her abs were sore from the continued effort, and she wanted to stop, just fall asleep, but willed herself to finish inside Chet, knowing he would do it for her, would do it again for her once they were themselves again.

She felt it build inside her, and both dreaded and desired it. Chet’s pussy was still wet and willing to let her keep fucking him, and she saw his breasts dancing before her eyes as Chet kept on working her pole, an intoxicating sight especially given that they were her breasts, and his cock, and she felt the orgasm ready to erupt. “Darling, I’m…” She couldn’t get the words out before she threw her head back in ecstasy, feeling the shuddering eruption of her seed into her husband’s womb.

Chet felt the jets of cum inside his pussy, and gasped as he came again, too, at the same time as his wife. Shaking, he leaned into her chest, and let her spasms fade away inside him. Her midnight black hair came forward, an impromptu curtain over both their faces. Still in the throes of passion, he kissed her full on the mouth, and she only took a moment to respond. In seconds, their kisses became a torrent of lust, and Chet ground his hips into his wife’s groin, and rubbed his breasts against the hairs on her chest, moaning with rising want.

Oana kissed back for a while, but tapered off, just reclining back into the soft cushions. “Chet, my love, I just can’t right now. If I could, I’d keep cumming over and over again for you. You are the perfect lover, in my body or yours, but I need a rest, darling.”

Disappointed but understanding what she was feeling, Chet settled into her arms, straddling him still, and let him hold her. They dozed for a while, fully spent. When they awoke, he noticed the sky was darkening, turning red with oncoming twilight. “It’s almost sunset, babe.”

“I see that. We’ll be back to ourselves soon. But better, sotul meu.”

She had called him my husband, another piece of the vocabulary he had gleaned. Suddenly, he didn’t want to wait for the spell to end. “Oana, I know what I want you to do. Before sundown.” He climbed off her lap and, standing, pulled her towards him. “Come to our room, babe.”

She stood, a little unsteady still, and followed him into their bedroom. Chet lay down in the middle of the bed, his knees up and legs spread. His pussy was wet, again, and he was very curious whether that was the normal state of affairs for Oana, or her body’s reaction because he was occupying that body and horny as hell.

When Oana got there, she stopped for just a moment. “Darling, we’ve done it in bed, you went down on me in the shower, and we just made love a third time. My poor pulă can barely stand up right now, and I’m afraid he just isn’t up to another dive.” She looked a little forlorn, but Chet just laughed.

“You asked what I wanted for the blowjob, babe.” He spread his legs fractionally wider. “Now I want you to return the favor. Lick my pussy. Make me cum.” He hoped she wouldn’t demur, but reasoned that, since he had enjoyed almost all of it, the spell would lead her to enjoy it, too, hopefully as much as he did. He also wanted to experience another string of multiple orgasms while still in her body, more than anything else at the moment.

Oana grinned, and lowered herself onto the bed, naked. Her cock was still thick, but dangled between her legs, and the sight of it mesmerized Chet. “You must say it right, in Romanian, darling. Repeat after me. Suge-mi lindicul. I want to hear you say it, darling. Suge-mi lindicul,” she crooned to him, the alien words promising something he knew he wanted, even if he didn’t know exactly what it was. She was now just inches from his pussy, and Chet wanted her face buried in it, licking and sucking and putting her tongue inside his vaginal walls and making him cum all over.

“Shoo gay me linda sool?” It didn’t sound right even to him, but she just smiled gently at his effort.

“Close, darling. Suge-mi lindicul. Hard ‘c’.” She moved closer to his pussy, and extended her tongue to dart out and flick against his clit.

“Suge-mi lindicul. Is that better, babe?” His chest was heaving, and he could see his borrowed nipples curdle and tighten, standing erect at the peaks of his breasts. Is this how excited Oana gets when I tease her? “What does it mean, baby?” He was breathless now, and wanted her to begin.

She leaned forward and sucked his clit into her mouth, her lips making a tight seal around it, and her tongue caressing it in time to her suckling. After a moment, she stopped, and said, “That.”

“Oh, that,” he whispered, barely able to concentrate. He lay back now, and Oana resumed her tongue play. Each time he felt his clit drawn by that lovely suction into her mouth, he found himself moaning, nearly enslaved to the pleasure she was giving him, in her body. His right hand moved without his consciously willing it, and settled on his right breast, fondling and caressing it, pinching his nipple and rolling it between thumb and forefinger, all the time reveling in something he’d never imagined, having his pussy eaten by his wife.

Now, Oana started to move past his clit, licking the full pussy lips and gathering the moisture with her tongue, spreading his juices all over his clit and pussy lips. He moaned again. “Fuck, baby, I’m going to cum. Keep going, my gorgeous girl. Eat my pussy…”

Now he felt her put his legs up into the air, further spreading and tightening the opening. Her mouth was against his labia, and Oana darted her tongue inside him, fucking him with it, and he felt his next orgasm spreading, ready to ignite, and set fire to every nerve in an erotic conflagration, a blaze that would consume him over and over.

“Oh, God, Oana, don’t stop baby! I’m so close, so close…” He felt her use her thumbs to widen his slit, and she licked up and down the length of the hole, more than he could endure for long. With a wordless scream, he let go his orgasm, and luxuriated in the earthquake throwing temblors of sensation and throughout the length of his body.

Oana kept licking him, coaxing another frenzied orgasm forth with only a few minutes of work, and still she didn’t stop. He became hyperaware, sure he could feel each hair of his bush waving in the wind of her onslaught. He cried out again, not another orgasm, but out of his love for her, and giving thanks for the loving, sensuous attention she was lavishing on his pussy and clit.

He opened his eyes, and realized tears of joy were streaming from them. At the same time, he felt another orgasm spread from his clit, radiating outward. His limbs all tingled and throbbed, down to his fingers and toes, and he grabbed Oana’s head, gently pushing her face further into his bush, crying the whole time. The climaxes blurred together, one long erotic throb, and he was still shaking from her diligent pussy licking.

Suddenly, he sat partly up, and seized Oana’s face, pulling her up to his, and kissed him long and hard. She held him while he sobbed in passionate release. “Baby, did you ever cry when you came with me?”

Oana kissed him tenderly. “Darling, I cry a little every time from the joy you bring me. I love you Chet, so very much. Yes, I do cry.”

Her eyes were dry but Chet felt her dick starting to stiffen against his thigh. “Baby, you’re getting hard again. Do you want to…?”

Oana shook her head slowly. “Darling, I don’t think I could do that another time, not without some rest. I never knew how much that takes out of you. So intense and wonderful, but I really love when I cum from your cock or tongue, or your fingers.” She sighed. “It would be wonderful if we could do this for a few more days, Chet, but my bunica told me very clearly we can use it only for one day. But I so love sticking my pulă inside you, and kissing and licking your pizdă. Now I know why you like it so much…”

Belying Oana’s denials, her cock was nearly hard enough to venture again inside Chet. “Baby, how often do you play with your pizdă?” He used the Romanian word for it, and waited for her to answer.

She blushed, and turned away, stammering out her answer. “Every few days, darling. A couple of nights ago on the couch while you slept. I wished you had wanted to be there, but I don’t think we were speaking just yet. It’s not as exciting, and certainly not a sufficient substitute, but I needed to sleep.”

Chet understood completely, having used that particular sleep aid over the past three months more than once. He looked down her belly and saw her cock, once again swollen, but a little less fully inflated than earlier, he imagined. He kissed her again. I know what I want.

“Oana, I would love to see you jack off for me.”

“Why?” She was honestly curious, since she had never watched Chet, in his own body, jack off, and never shown him when she did it. It was private, and a little shameful, and she had never shared it with anyone, not even him, who had been closer to her than anyone. It wasn’t a safe kind of dirty, not something she wanted to show anyone. Never had wanted to show someone, she amended quickly.

Chet hugged Oana to his breasts. “Because I want to share that with you. I would love to see you get yourself off for me, in either of our bodies. You are so sexy, my gorgeous girl, and seeing you take pleasure in your body, the same way I do, would be so…” He trailed off, not sure what word to use to convince her.

“Chet, I don’t know if I can…” She was blushing more fiercely, bright red with mingled shame and unwelcome lust.

He looked into her eyes. “Baby, you love to feel dirty and sinful with me.”

She nodded. “I do, but it’s just… I feel so exposed, really sinning in front of you.”

Chet saw she was serious, but he was just as determined to break that logjam as she was to maintain it. “Do you find our lovemaking sinful, baby?”

“No, not at all!”

“Even when it’s just for our enjoyment, just to show we love each other?”

She shook her head emphatically, and her words tumbled forth. “That’s different. I love you touching me, us touching each other, our glorious orgasms, lying together afterward. Doing it myself seems so wrong. Even when I do touch myself, it’s only to sleep, not for pleasure.”

“But you do take pleasure from it? It feels good when you cum?”

Ashamed, Oana nodded. “Yes. It feels good, Chet. Sometimes very good. Usually.”

“So share it with me, Oana. It’s not wrong, and it would be so beautiful if we could share that as well as the rest of it.” He reached down for her cock, stroking it gently. Oana groaned at his touch, and closed her eyes. “Does that feel good, baby?”

“Oh, yes, Chet. So different from you stroking my pizdă. I love how you touch me, sotul meu, I love your hands and fingers on me.” She arched her back as her cock shivered under Chet’s fingertips, feeling the delicate touch on it.

Chet kept stroking her erection, and leaned down between them to lick her head. A little drop of precum appeared at the top, and Chet dabbed it away with his tongue. It was thin and sweet, and he almost started sucking her off. It took an effort of will not to, and instead he came back up, and pressed his tits against Oana.

He then reached down and took her hand, guiding it gently but definitely to her hard-on. Her hand was on top of his now, feeling him jack her off, and she moaned in shame and ecstasy. “Darling, please…” She didn’t finish the sentence, before Chet moved his hand on top of hers, rubbing her cock with her own hand, rubbing her hand under his, masturbating her with her own hand.

“Does it feel good, Oana?”

“Yes, good. Naughty…” She stretched, lying more on her back. Chet withdrew his hand slowly and rolled over to kiss Oana while she jacked off. At the same time, he rubbed his breasts, turned on by his wife’s play.

“Keep rubbing, Oana. I know it feels good… You look so sexy, and I want to see you shoot a hot load all over yourself. Cum, baby. Cum for me.”

Oana started to stroke herself faster. “Oh, Chet, darling. It’s so good, so bad.” She knew she was about to cum, and suddenly turned over and used her free hand to get to her knees. Oana pushed Chet onto his back, and aimed her throbbing cock at the center of his chest.

Chet heard himself squeal girlishly with delight. Oana moaned loudly, and Chet felt hot semen shoot out onto his chest, running between his tits and over his nipples. He reached up to his breasts, and smeared the thick white fluid all over his chest, feeling it slippery all over himself. He reached down with one cum-soaked hand, and put two fingers inside his pussy, working them swiftly in and out. The feel of Oana’s cum and his own pussy juices was almost syrupy, viscous and sexy, and he felt himself cum again with his fingers plunging into his slit.

Oana lay down next to him, still gripping her cock, thin dribbles of fluid running down her fingers and onto the sheets. “Ah, fuck, darling. It was so good. I loved watching you stroking your cunt at the same time. So sinful… So wonderful.”

They put their arms around each other, and noticed the last of the sunlight glimmering out of existence on their ceiling. Exhausted and covered with each other’s juices, they snuggled in and fell asleep.



Chet awoke first, opening his eyes. A lone streetlamp cast a low gloom over their bed, and he looked over at his wife. Oana was next to him still, but they had switched back as soon as they fell asleep. He was stuck to her, his dried cum gluing her beautiful dark breasts to his chest hairs, and his own hand sticky with his now gelatinous cum. He rolled back gingerly, slow to peel himself off of her, and he grinned when her nipples twitched when they came free.

He kissed her on the lips. “Baby, we’re back.”

Oana’s eyes fluttered open, and she stretched luxuriously. “I love you, Chet.” She reached for him, and their lips met for what seemed the first time in forever.

When they came up for air, he said, “I love you too, Oana. I loved today, too. I loved learning more about you…”

She giggled. “And me learning more about you, darling.”

They kissed again, and he saw it was just past nine o’clock. “Do you want another shower, baby? Rinse the cum off us both?”

“Oh, yes. I will sleep better when I’m less sticky, darling.” She looked at him confidentially, and gave him a smile filled with lust and love. “You’re right, it’s fun to be more sinful with each other, freer, and I admit I loved covering your tits”—she looked down at her chest—“my tits with cum. I want you to do that for me. Soon!” She stretched again and rolled off the left side of the bed to her feet. “Ow.”

“What’s wrong, baby?”

“My own fault, darling. I think I fucked myself too much this afternoon, and my pizdă is so sore from your cock. I don’t think I’ll be able to fuck for another day or two.” She beamed at him, happy to be back in her own body, but even more back in love with her husband. There had been great insights into who he was and what she was to him, how he loved her and why.

“I wondered about that. It didn’t feel sore while your cock was inside me. Could that be another part of your bunica’s remedy?” He also felt spent still, but eager to take her in his arms, even if he probably couldn’t make love to her for another day or two, either. His abs were sore, obviously worked hard with the day’s erotic exertions. He stood up, and extended his hand to her.

Oana practically skipped over to him, and hugged him gladly before gazing lovingly up into his eyes. “Darling, my mouth isn’t sore…” She gave him a devilish wink. “I loved you sucking my cock in the shower, being my little muistă. You were so good at it, darling! I expect to be your muistă this time, your wanton little cocksucker!”

They washed the stickiness of each other and emerged from the shower happy and chipper, unable to keep their hands off each other. For the first time in years, they toweled each other off, and Chet kept his promise to shave, doing it in the evening because she liked the feel of his smooth cheeks anywhere on her body. She didn’t shave herself, only trimmed her bush a little, once Chet told her how much he loved her lush and full triangle of hair.

Still naked, they walked back into the bedroom, dressing for a quick bite out. As they got into their car, Chet mused, more to himself than to her. “Too bad we can’t do that again, Oana. It was very enlightening, and there is no-one else I would trust to do that with. I love you totally.”

Oana gave him a strange look. “I never said we can’t do it again, just not so soon. That little pouch has several doses in it.” She smiled. “And you’re the only one I would ever trust to do that, either.” She kissed him on the cheek.

They held hands as they backed out into the sparse traffic, and understood.