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 �>�The Pussy Exhibition



   Do you have a special dear friend who is always putting her foot in it
and getting everyone into trouble?  Such a friend is Hortense.  We and our
husbands belong to a  -�Young Marrieds -� club which meets once a month for
interesting activities such as talks, discussions, demonstrations, visits
etc.

   We are a pretty happy bunch with a great sense of humour and everyone is
willing to join in.  Unfortunately, sometimes Hortense is the exception to
the rule.  We sometimes refer to her as intense Hortense.

   On one particular occasion she got all us girls into a situation that
was totally embarrassing and humiliating.  It happened during one of our
discussions.  The subject was  -�Loving couples -� and, as I -(TM)m sure
most of us thought of ourselves as fitting this description, we looked
forward to a good time.

   It was when the subject turned to sex that Hortense made her great faux
pas.  I don -(TM)t know much about her sex life, but she took the attitude
that when it comes to sex, men are selfish.  Then she said,  -�I don -(TM)t
suppose any of our husbands would recognise our pussies if they couldn
-(TM)t see the rest of us. -� That did it!

   Several men were most indignant at such an insult and really had a go at
Hortense for her sexist remark.  They maintained that sex was a mutually
enjoyable experience.  But Hortense tried to press her case until Martin
who ran a professional photography business with his wife, Chloe,
challenged her.

    -�Hortense, you said that we men wouldn -(TM)t be able to recognise our
wives -(TM) pussies in isolation. -�

    -�Correct! -� she replied offensively.

    -�Can you prove that? -� asked Martin.

    -�Well, -� demurred Hortense,  -�I can -(TM)t really prove it but I
-(TM)m sure I -(TM)m right. -�

   Martin then took the upper hand.   -�Well, I can prove that you -(TM)re
wrong! -�

    -�Go on then, -� challenged the still unrepentant Hortense.

    -�OK, -� said Martin.   -�I -(TM)m willing to photograph the pussies of
all our female members and display them in close-up at a private exhibition
in my studio at one of our meetings.  I -(TM)ll number them all and we
-(TM)ll see how many husbands can pick out their wives -(TM) pussies. -�

   All we women were devastated at this suggestion and we tried to think of
all sorts of reasons for this being a bad idea.  Marilyn was sitting
between me and Hortense and I saw her dig her in the ribs and whisper, 
-�Apologise, you fool!  What are you getting us into? -�

   But Hortense just would not back down.   -�Well . . .  um . . .  I. . .
er. . .I -(TM)m willing.  I think we should do it. -�

   If looks could kill, Hortense would have died a horrible death on the
spot.  There was no way out.  We all had to agree to go along with the
challenge.  All the husbands were asked and agreed to be challnged in this
way.

   Martin made a list of all the wives, with times when they could be
available to be  -�photographed -� at his studio.  He said that Chloe (who
acted as his receptionist) would be present when the photographs were
taken.

   I went along with three friends two days later for our joint ordeal.  To
say that we were all embarrassed and humiliated would be putting it mildly.
We all had to lift our skirts and drop our pants as Martin focussed on our
most intimate parts to take the photographs.  It didn -(TM)t take long, but
for every second, I hated Hortense and her big mouth.

   As the next meeting was already arranged, we had to wait six weeks for
the rest of our ordeal.  We all turned up in fear and trepidation at Martin
-(TM)s studio for the  -�exhibition -�.  He and Chloe had arranged it all
just like a proper exhibiton.  We started with drinks and bites in the
reception area and then he flung back the curtain to invite us into the
studio.

   All around the walls were framed pictures of pussies, all considerably
larger than life size, and showing every detail.  Nothing was left to the
imagination.  By the side of each photograph was a round blue spot bearing
a number.  I have never seen such a collection of very red female faces in
my life.  Quite a few of us started to giggle but it was out of sheer
embarrassment.

   Our husbands walked around quite casually making all sorts of remarks,
humorous and otherwise, and some commented that it was amazing at the
variation in pussy design.  They all seemed quite confident that they would
be successful.

   After about twenty minutes of this excruciating experiment, Martin spoke
to us all.   -�OK folks.  I think all you husbands have had enough time to
have a really good look at the  -~vagina variations -(TM), so all you have
to do now is to take one of these blank cards, sign it, and say which
number you think is your wife -(TM)s pussy. -�

   This matter took only a minute or two, and then Martin and Chloe
collected in the cards and compared them to the list on their reception
desk.  Martin addressed us all again with a broad smile.   -�I -(TM)m happy
to annouce folks that every single husband has recognised his wife -(TM)s
pussy. -�

   All the men cheered, and someone thanked Martin for putting on  -�such
an interesting exhibition. -� Hortense had the grace to apologise to the
husbands for being absolutely wrong and then covered her face with her
hands.   -�When are you going to take the exhibition down, Martin? -� she
asked.

    -�As a matter of fact, -� he replied with a smile,  -�I -(TM)m thinking
of opening it to the public for a week or two. -� Seeing our horror-struck
faces he quickly added.   -�Joking!  Only joking! -�