WOMAN HOT SEX

A lovely girl

A Rotten Night’s Sleep

A Shocking

A Shudder

A Side-Turning

A Struggling

All This Mainlining On Words

Cabinet Mirror

Catha Suddenly

Face Up

Fair Enough

Fair- Mindedness

Flying Buttress  in Bronze

For Chrissake

Fuel Cables

Full Of Echo's

Gold Chain Around His Neck

Half- Stefan Crossing

Having To Work

Heterosexuality

I Never Went Back

I Want To See You

In a Minute

In Frankfurt

In Hertfordshire

In Marxist

I could feel his tongue in my ear.

In Sussex

John Marx Stefanovitch

Julia

Kiss the envelope  for luck

Letter from Alison to Stefan

Letter  from Stefan to Alison

Listen Darling

Malleus malefactum

Mmmm’ Noises.

Mortality In Relation

My Beloved

Nancy Friday

‘Observe the wolf pack.

Our Relationship

Out- Stretched

Own Glass Still

Self-Immolation

‘Very nearly.  Just   a bit hot.’  in frankfurt I could feel the  lining of my fur jacket sticking to me.  And that  sensation  was emphasized when Seymour  knelt down behind the  footstool and ran his hands down from my shoulders on the fur  over my breasts.
            He said,  ‘I do lover the way your  breasts  spread and curve outwards when you’re  flat on your  back like this.   God, I’d love to see them.  But I’m not going to give way to temptation.’
            If he  was as willing as this to suffer, then  I must be too I wondered vaguely  about those religious sects that practiced self-flagellation as I watched him sadly crawl along the  length of the  coffee-table till he faced me between my  legs  at the other end.
            ‘Are you going to tie me up?’
            ‘There’s no need.’  He was taking  his robe off.  His square white shoulders against  the crimson silk suddenly reminded me of a painting he had once shown me.  A dreadful bloody thing that  vibrated   with a black  and primitive perspective.   He had got it from a  church  in the mountains a shudder of New Mexico where the descendants of the conquistadors still practiced self-immolation. But in contrast to them he was the quintessence of urbanity. His gestures were understated, his emotions like fine engravings and his voice a soft drawl. ‘Drop your arms  back, darling, so  they’re  against  the  legs of the  table up that  end, and  if I put your  legs so.’  He pushed my ankles  lightly so that  they touched the legs of the table nearest him. He shrugged. ‘So who needs  tying?  You’ll  stay like that for me, won’t you?’
            ‘Yes.’
            ‘And the height is just  right for me.’ To demonstrate  he knelt up so that his penis  brushed my opening.
            I was worried  that I was being boring.  But then  it is difficult  to struggle as though bound hand and foot when there is nothing   to restrain one’s  movements.
            ‘Are you going  to put it in me?’  I had not meant to ask. 
            In answer, Seymour used  his left hand to put two fingers into my opening while his thumb pressed on my clit.   His right   hand grasped his penis.  Both  hands worked   in unison lazily.  Half  an hour earlier my orgasm would have torn me apart but  now it was a face up small shudder of a come that  I had.  Seymour  crawled up beside me and stopped where my left arm trailed down the table leg.  I smiled kindly enough as he  bent  to kiss me.   But then without warning  he climaxed  and shot the lot over the front of my blue fox.  For the first times   that evening   I was really shocked.  I mean, with  the price a reputable furrier  charges to clean   a jacket nowadays, one could practically buy  a mink  farm.   I did not  mention that  to Seymour  though because he already  seemed a bit down.

Frankly on the drive  home I did feel a bit cheated.  I went   so far as  to wonder  why on earth I went  in for this sort of  thing.  But  I realized  I did feel more up to coping with Roy’s foot, and even perhaps bunch of terrorists.  Yes, I  suppose the reason  for going in for  it is that it’s  like  meditation- once you are into it,   the rest of the  world is cut out.  Also, it is slimming.  I must have lost  a few pounds sweating under  that fur.  I had put the heterosexuality jacket  in the car boot because  I saw no reason why should have to explain the   tacky mess down the front to Roy.
            By the time I reached   home there  was only one problem  left to face. If I forewarned Lali of Seymour’s counter-plan, would  she agree to a  meeting next Thursday?  No, she would not.  If I told Seymour that Lali had VD he would consider himself infected.   Because of his desire to protect me, that would mean he  would wait the whole three-month incubation period  before he touched   me.  Anyway, Seymour would ring Alison to check out her symptoms.  So I would have to tell Alison first.  She would went to know why she was supposed to have VD.  Then I would have to tell her of Seymour’s  counter-plan.  And  so on.  My head began to  swim.  I told    Roy I had had   a bit of a prang with the car.  Which actually I had had the day before near the  supermarket, but  had not dared tell him   about at the time.  what with the plantain wart and everything.  For this reason he did not question me about my evening, as I said I had to lie down on the bed  immediately to recover.  In fact the  catatonic trance that  I fell into as soon as my head hit the pillow  did mimic the signs of delayed shock remarkably.  Roy  was worried.  I was more worried  because  whichever way  I turned, I was trapped in a  circular conundrum. Perhaps I should simply let both plans take their  natural course.  But then I could see  myself  caught in a hideous power struggle.  Neither Alison  nor Seymour would allow  the  defeat of their  respective plans.  I had to manipulate   the outcome.  It had to appear that  Seymour warned had won.  No.  Because  then the  point of Alison’s  plan- which was the super fuck for me  -would  be lost.  Alison  had to win.  No.  Because  then… Roy found some old Librium in the bathroom  cabinet and anyway I had a whole  week   in which to work out a solution.

Petite-Bourgeoisette

Psycho-Ops

Remember celebrating

Seafood Filling

Self-Discipline

Self-Immolation

Seymour Warned

Seymour

Socio Economic

Soul Love

Stefan to Alison

Stefan winked.

Stefan

Stefanovitch speaking

Straggers Backwards

The Best Nurturing

The Heart of Paris

The Insidiousness

The Myth of the Vaginal Orgasm,

The Priest and the Penitent

The Shutters

The Sorbonne

Then Leave It

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