I've read my fair share of pornography, thumbed through discarded copies of 'Razzle' and 'Electric Blue', and well before the age of sixteen I had seen my fair share of punani. No matter how often my mother found and promptly binned my copies of 'Mayfair' I would always manage to find replacements from one place or another and it simply served to increase my poontang-tally. Naturally when I reached the age of sixteen and of legal age to observe real life ladies in the nude and interact with them I assumed it would happen. None the less I would still keep my magazine collection close to my bed for those odd occasions when I couldn't find a girl to interfere with, if indeed that were ever to happen. Sadly reality and expectation were two complete opposites, and my magazines were there to show me what I was missing, and so I became rather attached to them, as some of the pages were to each other for some reason. I started to notice the idiosyncrasies in the vaginal structure, the differences between coiffured mounts, their curved buttocks without a hint of tan-line, it was fascinating. This state of sexual interaction with women of a printed nature was surely as educational as any kind of medical degree on the external characteristics of minge. By all rights I should have been a professional gynaecologist practicing on the most beautiful women alive, but I wasn't, what had gone wrong?

Years later I was to discover the truth with my first sexual encounter with a real life girl, who wasn't in my mind or on a bit of paper, she was real and there and in front of me. I knew what to expect, I had educated myself well in the way of the gigolo in theory if not in practice, I knew exactly what was beneath those clothes, I could close my eyes and literally see it. The moment of unveiling came, and to my horror I realised I had been lied to. Breasts should be pert and perfect surely, not like fried eggs nailed to a plank. Pubic hair should be trimmed back and well maintained, everyone knows that, not a ravenous brush scrub running down the inside of the thighs and across the buttocks. I can't even bring myself to write of the further disappointment when my patient revealed that the labia is not always a well behaved small strip of flesh just budding from its hiding place. Needless to say I have well and truly learned my lesson and the number of partners that have allowed my interference truly do qualify my for my position of gynaecologist now. My practice is open from Wednesday to Friday, and my fees are very reasonable.

Dr. Vic Jameson

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