“And you’re sure these aren’t some sketchy pills laced with drugs that are going to fuck us up?” I ask my husband, bouncing the little blue pill in the palm of my hand.

He has a similar-looking pink pill pinched between his fingers, holding it up to the light as if he’ll be able to discern its chemical makeup just by looking at it.

“I mean, I have no idea. I saw a funny ad online and figured I’d get them as a gag gift, but I didn’t think they’d actually arrive, let alone come with all this scientific chemical information.” He gestures to the thick pamphlet lying open on the bed between us.

“And remind me exactly what the ad said?”

“It basically said these were temporary body-swapping pills. The woman takes the blue one, the man takes the pink one, and they swap bodies.”

“Okay, well that’s obviously ridiculous…” I say incredulously.

There’s no way this would work, right? Something like this would be all over the news if it actually worked, I think to myself.

In horror, I then watch as my husband tosses his pill in the air, catches it in his mouth, and, with a quick swig of water, downs it without a second thought.

“What the hell are you doing? These could be laced with something!”

“Too late now!” he shoots back at me with a grin. “I haven’t died yet, you should take yours.”

Skeptically, I inspect the pill again and glance over the pamphlet one more time. They have to just be sugar pills, right?

“Oh, what the hell.” I take mine as quickly as possible, slightly pissed at myself for taking a pill without knowing what’s actually in it. But my husband just took his, and if we start tripping balls, I guess we’ll trip balls together.

Almost instantly, I know what I’ve done is a mistake. My stomach burns as if someone has just torn it open with a red-hot iron. I put a hand out to steady myself and shut my eyes tight, trying to block out the pain.

“Babe, I don’t think we should have done this.”

Wait, what the fuck? Whose voice was that? It sure as hell wasn’t mine.

I open my eyes and realize I’m looking out from a foot taller than before. I’m also across on the other side of the room. Did I black out? Then I see myself, back on the side of the room I started on—my face, with a look of pure joy and elation.

“Babe! It worked! Holy fuck, it actually worked!”

I watch myself jump up and down with excitement, and it sets in that somehow, some way, I am in my husband’s body. And he’s in mine.

We take the next few minutes in frantic self inspection. Without a word, my husband strips his new body—my body—completely bare. Fondling his new found breasts, he steps in front of the mirror.

“God, your body is even sexier from this angle! Also, why the fuck am I so smooth?” he says, running his hands up his hips and sides and back down again.

Watching my naked body from this angle stirs something primal in me, an urge I’ve never experienced before. In what feels like an instant, I can feel my husband’s cock—my cock—begin to stiffen and strain against my pants.

“You must like the look of yourself,” my husband says, giving me a sly look and nodding to my bulging pants. “I can tell you’re starting to get turned on!”

He prances over to me, already a natural at moving my body, and undoes my pants, pulling my underwear down.

My new cock springs out like a branch pulled back and snaps to attention.

My husband laughs, “god, you really are enjoying this, aren’t you?”

He moves closer, and our bodies press together. He grabs my cock at the base and, while beginning to stroke it, whispers up to me, “Wanna have some fun with this?”

That primal urge takes over, my new male instincts kicking into overdrive at the feeling of someone servicing my cock. In one quick movement, I grab my body—my husband’s new body—and throw him onto the bed, startled by strength I’ve never felt before.

“Woah, hang on, babe. Let’s take things a bit slower—this is new for both of u—”

Before my husband can finish his sentence, I’m on him like a wolf, instincts driving me forward. Struggling to push me away in his weaker body, he begins to protest again, but before he can, I let out a low growl that surprises the both of us.

“Shut the fuck up and lay there like a good girl while I fuck that tight little pussy of yours.”

We both blink at what I just said. He hesitates but then melts down onto the bed, pulling his legs up and giving me full access. I can see how glistening wet he is, and without further discussion, I grab the base of my cock and drive it forward.

Both of our eyes widen as we experience sensations entirely foreign to us. His new pussy clamps down on my new cock, and my husband’s eyes roll into the back of his head.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck! This feels…. Give it to me, baby,” he calls out.

“You’re a natural at taking cock, baby. I think you might have been born for this,” I whisper in his ear as my body instinctively pumps into him.

My movements become faster, more urgent, as that tension builds inside me. His cries grow louder, his nails clawing at my back. The pleasure is overwhelming, unlike anything I’ve ever felt, and after just a few minutes of roughly fucking my husband I know I’m getting close.

“Babe, I’m gonna—”

“Me t-,” he gasps, his back arching as he grips the sheets and begins to lose his mind as his own cock slams into him.

With one final thrust, the tension explodes in a wave of ecstasy that leaves me convulsing. My husband shudders beneath me, his body shaking as his own orgasm overtakes him and my cum floods his pussy.

We collapse together, panting and sweating, tangled in the sheets. For a long moment, neither of us speaks, the reality of what just happened sinking in.

“Holy shit,” he finally says, staring at the ceiling. “That was… intense.”

“Yeah,” I reply, still catching my breath.

And I can’t help but wonder, how can we make this permanent?