Hard Swap: Penis for Pussy

My heart is pounding.

In my hand, I’ve got a brand new toy, and the possibilities are endless. After signing all the paperwork the weirdos told me to sign, I was given this strange, cobbled-together device that they said could swap things.

Anything.

Physical and otherwise. Anything as long as it’s a one-to-one trade.

And I know what I want to try, and I’m waiting for the opportunity to present itself.

My mouth is dry, I can’t stop pacing, and I can’t focus on anything.

Oh! She’s here.

Taking a deep breath to steady myself as my wife walks in through the front door. She’s pretty — not model-landing gorgeous — but she’s pretty as hell, with a smile that shines like the sun.

And she is curvy as fuck.

I’ve always wondered what the hell happened to our culture when it started pushing the heroin-chic look on women. Give me more hips, thighs and tits any day over some cold fictional waif with no meat on her bones.

My stomach is doing back flips.

I’m still on the fence about this, but there is no test drive for the device, there’s no focus group, they made it clear. The only way to test it is in the real world. For what, I can’t say. It was clear, though. Fail, and I’ll be treated as a non-compliant test subject.

What a crock.

“Hi, honey,” she says, kissing me.

“Hi,” I reply, trying like hell not to sound nervous. “I took care of a couple of your things.”

“Thanks, babe. You know I like it when you help out after the day I’ve had.”

I swallow, afraid of the guilt I’m going to feel.

It’s overshadowed by how hot I’m going to feel for what I’m going to do next…

 

ZZZZZZZZZZZT

There it is.

I turned the dials before I put the device in my pocket and I managed to turn myself to point the antenna nonchalantly at my sweet wife.

Holy.

Freaking.

Hell.

In all my years, I’m used to my cock and balls being there. It’s not always on my mind but I’m always aware it’s there on the periphery of my consciousness. Whenever I did focus on it, it was with a high degree of intensity. Whether I was with my wife or jacking off or cradling them so my balls didn’t get pinched depending on how I was sitting.

Now they’re gone.

I mask the giggle with a cough and I think it works. Jess, as usual, does what she does when she gets home, taking the stuff she brought with her to work, like her coffee mug.

I say some nonsense about needing to check on something upstairs and I have to concentrate not to run.

My heart pounds with excitement so hard I think it’s going to rip out of my chest.

I’m overcome as I fumble with my belt buckle, hands shaking so much I can barely get my jeans unzipped and push them with my boxers down to my ankles.

And there it is.

The faithful dick, which I’ve had since before I was born, is gone.

In its place is what I’m sure is my wife’s vajayjay.

Oh, wow.

My hand is shaking as I reach for it, watching in the mirror as I get closer and closer to my new crotch. I’ve just shaved everything around my dick and balls from bikini line down to the base of my perineum earlier today, looking forward to some fun when she got home. Before I was given this thing.

Now, it’s my wife’s snatch, shaved clean.

Shuddering, my fingers touch the bare surface, inching lower and lower.

I hear a sound of pleasure slip past my lips as I touch her — well, my — labia majora.

I shudder as they continue down to the inner lips of my new coochie.

I’m wet, of course.

All guys at one time or another must think about what it would be like to have a woman’s hoo-ha. I’ve fantasized about it for longer than I care to admit and now I have the opportunity!

Faster, faster, my heart beats.

I stutter over to the toilet, as it’s the only thing I can take a seat on without being caught, and I kick up the lid.

I take a seat on it as fast as my body will let me, spread my hairy legs, awestruck.

I reach for my new stuff and start to diddle.

When I accidentally brush her — my clit, I shudder and have to bite my lip to keep from groaning out loud.

Jesus, is this wh