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

The Heart of Paris

I had my first-ever orgasm with a-backward-glance man and then, as though his semen had been a powerful  opiate injected into my veins, I do longer had the power to object when he slid  down  the bed to look at me.  I attempted to fill in the dreadful silence that followed  with an apology.  I said I knew my cunt  was uglier than most.  Stefan declared me hopelessly mistaken.  It was normal.  He   would go further.  It was more beautiful  than any he had seen.  That year at least.  But really.  We laughed.  In fact it was so beautiful he got out his camera with flash attachment.  By  the early  hours of the morning he had used up two reels of twenty exposures. And even the word  ‘exposure’  was taking on a new meaning for me. The next time I visited the Rue Fontaine  I was faced with a photo of my cunt blown  up to poster size,  framed in silver and hung above his bed.  It looked like one of these large wavy-lipped sea shells draped with fronds of seaweed.  I  was so pleased with its artistic merit   that I agreed to let him hang  I tin an exhibition of photographs entitled  ‘The Heart of Paris.’  After that there  seemed no  point in hiding  anything  from Stefan.  I even admitted to a phobia  of elevators  as well as cunts.  And we rode  the Eiffel Tower  with my fear  smothered in his arms  until I got the better  of that one too.
            As I swung round the corner into the  cobbled courtyard of the mews where Seymour  lived, it suddenly  came to me that Stefan  was  responsible for this relationship too.  From Stefan to Seymour had been a natural progression – for me at least, who had learnt her lesion so well.  And if it was not a progression then it was a backward step.  In either event  the continuity  was undeniable.  And it was suddenly  clear to me just how blameless Seymour was.  If anyone was guilty it was I who, by attempting to deceive  him Alison,  betrayed his trust.  How longed  to confess.
            When he opened the front door I was thrilled to see he was wearing the silk robe  I had bought  him in Hong Kong  the year  before.  Because  this meant  he had  been lying on the bed to face up watch television and would want to go back to it.
            As I walked  down the hall in front of him he said,   ‘Drop your skirt and pants, will you?   I just   want to see you with  the jacket on.  I must say  Roy has taste.’
            I was going to step out of my shoes  too, by the said not to because the high  heels stretched the muscles of my legs so prettily all the way to my buttocks.  I felt  the sensation of the fur hem of the jacket  brush my naked bottom as I turned  into the bedroom.
            ‘No, don’t turn around, walk on to the window.   The smooth skin of your arse against that fur really turns  me  on.’
            Which is why I spoke into the thick curtains.  ‘Seymour, there’s  something I …..’
            ‘Wait,  darling.’  He moved  close  behind me and his hands strayed round my thighs and started stroking the little curves of fat on their  insides.  I felt my legs begin to tremble.  I longed to step out of my shoes but I leant back Julia against him for support  instead.  I knew that the only confession I should make was that  I had forgotten to call in at the deli.  But, as he slowly turned  me to face him and looked deep into my eyes, I was so sure that he saw  the truth I looked away.
            ‘What?’  He seemed surprised.
            ‘Seymour, there’s something…’
            His hand moved to stroke my pussy.  This was the first time  he had  been   so direct for   weeks.  He wanted  to be  honest with me.
            ‘I thought it was time I denied myself the sight of your  beautiful breasts.’
            ‘No, please.’  I did not want to hold anything back from him.  I tried to pull the fur jacket off.  I wanted it off, but he hugged me close so that I could not free my arms.  I felt so hot I was afraid I must be   flushed and sweaty.  Just   when he was going to lay me on the bed and really, but really, make love to me.
            ‘Why should you deny yourself?’
            ‘A punishment, darling.  For being mean to you.  I have been mean, haven’t I?   I really am the lowest of the low.’ 
            If Alison could have witnesses his humility then, she would have understood why I loved him.  Surely.   I stemmed the tears   of tenderness that threatened to well John marx stefanovich from my eyes by letting   the words flow instead.  I told him of the plan Lali and I had hatched to put him down.  To the last detail I confessed all.    And his voice, when he spoke, barely ruffled silence of the bedroom.
            ‘I deserved it.  But, you see, how I forestalled you by inventing my own more subtle punishment?  Can you forgive me?’



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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