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

Straggers Backwards

‘Alison, what’s  wrong?’
‘You sound…well, I mean, you basterd were adamant that you were going  to  remain out of bounds for a  couple of weeks.’
‘Oh,  and Nancy.  Don’t bother about fetching my passport.’
‘What passport?’
‘What? Oh, sorry.’
‘Alison, are you sure you’re …’
‘I’m fine.  Fine really.’
And I rang off.  It was obvious  that I had lost my grip  completely.  Perhaps   my only hope lay in hitting rock bottom quickly.   Form that position I might claw my way  back up to sanity with like speed.  I rushed to the bedroom, switched  on the vibrator and lay back with it  between my legs  on Catha’s bed-roll.  As the ripples of sensation spread out from my clitoris to my things I sank  into a  whirlpool of Stefan eyes  and mouth and cock.  Down on the sea-bed of his thighs and  arms I moaned  and rocked.  Until my orgasm emptied me and, being lighter, I began to float up to the surface.  My head  turned   from the dark currents of the deep to the light  filtering  through Catha’s  curtains.  Eleven o’clock  and he own glass sill  had not rung.  But I was beginning  to get   a whole  new perspective.
I went though to the bathroom and thoughtfully applied a little  make-up.  There was no need for him to go to Spain.  There  was no need for me to go through any of this, subjecting myself   to some barbaric whim  of his.  If he wanted to be near me,  he could stay here.  Where I was.  It was  childishly  perverse of him not to stay in the place where he was successful and could easily continue to be so.  I could go further-once he had agreed to stay in London, then I could agree to a trial period of living   with him.  I had to phone him.  if I did  not, then I was being   even more contrary and childish than he was  being even more contrary and childish  than he was. 
‘Hi, Stefan, I’m  at Catha’s.’  But I felt his word ‘fuck’  hit me somewhere in the region of my stomach.
‘I thought  I asked you not to burden  your friends.  Her of all people.
‘I love Catha.’
‘Do her a favour then.’
‘She’s been out all day anyway.’
‘OK, so her influence is wearing thin.’
‘I don’t need her approval.’
‘You amaze me.’
‘I’m  tied up here.   But come round if you like.’
‘Ring off now.  And ring a taxi.’ And the line  went dead.
Well, if he was icy with suppressed fury, so was I.   He would find my anger, my inner strength and stubbornness a match for his own.

In the taxi on the way to Catha about all this.  ‘Catha, you know that  to exercises the devil  you have to  summon the courage  to meet him face to face.  You have to call him out from  his hiding-place and intone the right words.  Eye to eye you have to dazzle him, holding up your badge  of faith so that  he straggers backwards, loses his foothold and  falls into the dark.’   More likely I would probably say    that unless I had dared to meet  Stefan  I would never have found out whether I had the  strength to say that last  goodbye.  I had tested the depth  of my resolve and triumphed.  She would congratulate me.  Good.  Then I would mention the way  I had deceived her about the poetry  competition and so on.  Good.  By the time I paid  the taxi off, I felt very much in command of the situation in the short term, and my life in the long.
            It was when I had my hand on the buzzer and was  waiting  for his voice to come through the shutters security intercom that another thought  struck me.
            ‘OK, Alison, both doors are open.  Come up.’
            Stefan had never raised-his hand in anger against me. Now might be the moment. He was going to punish me. He was going to beat me up. I was going to be a hospital case inside five minutes. That was why he sounded so deadly calm. Seventeen stitches. And I could not remember if I had put on the front page of my diary that I was rhesus negative. Oh God, I hadn’t got my diary with ,me and I absolutely hated the idea of a plasma nose-drip. Stefan would relent afterwards, of course. One thousand pounds for plastic surgery. But while I was under anaesthetic he slipped the surgeon an extra five hundred to implant silicone pads to enlarge my breasts to the size of Julia’s. That certainly gave the lie to his comment about being bored with tit.
My legs took a long time to climb the stairs. His front door seemed heavy although it was well ajar. By the time I reached his sitting-room I felt as weak as kitten and sank self discipline straight down on the sofa to recover from the effort of the stairs. Inner strength is all very well, but there are occasions when one needs the physical strength with which to back it up.
I looked across at Stefan. He had on jeans and a faded blue tee-shirt and wore a relaxed holiday air. He sprawled in his huge leather armchair.



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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