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


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


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

Stefan winked

I cut him a piece of meat with my beloved teeth and held it fast  there until he nibbled it close and pulled.  We both laughed.
            ‘But seriously.  This is good practice.  ‘He picked up the whole of his steak and squeezed it so the   blood ran out onto the plate.  ‘When we get to the farm we won’t  have knives and forks.  They’re always among the first  things  to be stolen.’
            So eating with my fingers could be viewed as a particular sort of challenge.  I did not care.  I was beginning  to enjoy it.  I licked a streak of blood that had run up his forearm.
            ‘No napkins either? Oh, damn.’
            ‘Back at the Ritz,’ I smiled.
            ‘Ah, yes, tell me.’
            I found a little  mushroom that fitted in my navel.  He ate it out.  “Waiter!” I cried.
            ‘Were you wearing   your voluminous white   ball gown?’
            ‘I was.  And on my shoulder I wore  the orchid  which had been fertilized in my  womb.’
            ‘Ah, yes.’ Stefan was interested.  He poured us one  huge  goblet  of wife, sniffed the bouquet  and sipped.   ‘I was afraid so.  Too cold.   You warm it.’
            He pushed the crystal  glass onto the warm skin  between my  breasts.  I lifted my breasts and held them enfolded around it.
            ‘I had already caught the Head Waiter’s eye.  I’d smiled.  His mouth yielded no response.  as he turned  from  seating  that the last of the ladies at our table  the cutaway of his tail coat hung like a  sword from his hip.’
            I paused to incline may head  and sniff the wine between  my breasts.  It smelled ripe.  Stefan winked.
‘It was September. After the oyster but before the poached salmon my fish fork accidentally fell to the floor.  the sorbonne Head Waiter was at my feet in a flash.’
I leant forward slightly to tilt the glass for Stefan to drink from between my breasts.
‘I should explain that the voluminous folds of my white ball-gown were hard to distinguish from the folds of the white damask table-cloth.’
‘Was the table round or rectangular?’  Stefan had dipped his finger in the wine  and was painting my lips.
‘It was round.  But it is more important to realize that the company was very select.  To my right sat a very little man with a big opinion  of himself as a theatre critic.  His  dry-haired wife  was nervous and had some loose connection  with the Arts Council.  Opposite  me sat a man high up in the BBC who, it was reported, so lacked imagination that his secretary had had  to have herself  roped up on a pulley to be lowered up and down on his cock before he noticed her.  Then, of course, there was the  Countess  who had just paid six hundred pounds  a  week to be starved at a clinic in the Austrian  Tyrol.  She was beautiful  and thin, but  with palpitations, she said.’ 
Stefan had taken the own glass still and was holding it to my mouth.  As I drank  he placed his hand lightly  on my throat.
‘I’m only telling you all this so that you understand the  conversion at my table was both meaningful and refined.  So, you see, I felt it would be impolite to express any surprise when the Head  Waiter failed to re-emerge from under the table cloth.  I continued my conversion with the theatre critic  as I felt my voluminous skirt being  pushed slowly  but steadily upwards above my knees.  In fact my only reaction was that my knees  feel slightly  apart.  By which time we were all listening to the man from the BBC making detailed projections on next year’s  budget –which was dependent for its logistics on a twenty –pound rise in the license fee. I managed to look interested.  Suddenly a finger was tugging at the crotch of my pants.  I lifted myself slightly in my chair allowing my pants to be pulled down more easily at the same time I suggested to the man from the BBC that his optimism must be based on a home that the present government was about to all.  He acknowledged as much.  I eased forward slightly  on the seat of the myth chair to allow  my legs  to be pushed further apart.’



Remember celebrating

Seafood Filling



Seymour Warned


Socio Economic

Soul Love

Stefan to Alison

Stefan winked.


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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