Tag Archives: Christopher Newman

Steph & Cherry: Pub-lic Affections — Christopher Newman

After the Mr. Huggins Affair, which turned out fabulous by the way, I didn’t want to risk another go-round with our landlady.  Actually I did—sort of—the memory of John’s glorious cock was embedded in my brain (as it had been in my quim).  This had put my poor vibrator through many hot, fast paces.  But [...]
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Steph & Cherry: Water-Loo — Christopher Newman

Cherry and I stood in the bathroom and stared at our latest troubles without speaking.  She was dressed in a white tee shirt which reached to mid-thigh.  Her black hair was falling around her shoulders.  No shoes and, if I knew Cherry, no knickers.  She had a right to relax.  Today was her day off.  [...]
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Steph & Cherry: Christmas Goose — Christopher Newman

The holiday season was here at last.  Since the first of the month, when I’d been introduced to a part of myself I didn’t know existed it was a truly Happy Christmas.  Cherry, my flat-mate and a burly female lorry driver named Toni had caught me peeping in on them.  To be truthful I thought [...]
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Steph & Cherry: What You See Is What You Get — Christopher Newman

“Oh, baby… give it to me,” Cherry said, her voice a hot, long moan. It was the sound of her voice that woke me up from a restless sleep. It was Friday night and I was dateless, home alone.  Obviously Cherry wasn’t. “Easy… take it slow…and e-easy,” I heard my roommate groan. “Oh yeah, I like [...]
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Privacy — Christopher Newman

It was hot.  The early afternoon sun crossing the sky above me was like a giant eye, some mythical sun god spying on me.  Sitting around my backyard pool, alone I basked in the heat.  All around the outskirts of my in-ground pool was a tall privacy fence.  Living in a blue collar neighborhood I [...]
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Sophronia’s Portrait — Christopher Newman

“You ought to take that thing down,” my mother said, “it’s awful.  I’ve always hated that picture your grandfather seemed to love.” Standing in the now-empty house where my mother’s father lived by himself for twenty years I felt strange.  Like some invader, a criminal who had sneaked in to steal what he could before [...]
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Getting Trim(med) — Christopher Newman

It was Saturday morning—nine o’ clock and I watched from my car as the place I got my hair cut opened.  The night before, out at the clubs had been a disaster bust without even a slip of paper with a phone number to show for it.  I knew the problem and it had a [...]
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