Manuel García’s stories strip desire to its core—where men confront men in silence, in challenge, in the raw friction of bodies. These are not fantasies polished for comfort, but encounters that arise in stairwells, hotel bathrooms, empty apartments, and the backs of cars. Virile, direct, unsentimental: here, lust is a force that takes shape in glances, in sweat, in the weight of what is left unsaid.
The title story captures the urgency of a first time. Luca, just nineteen, meets the kind of man he has always imagined—an older professional, married, discreet, elegant in a suit and tie. The setting is stark: an empty summer building by the sea, its silence broken only by the sound of their breath, the quick rustle of a jacket falling to the floor. It is the perfect stage for a boy stepping into a world of men.
He opens the door in a white shirt, tie loosened, the scent of his day still clinging to him. His hand brushes Luca’s face—firm, assured, leaving no room for hesitation. The kiss is deep, hungry, a collision of mouth and breath. Soon the boy is on his knees, tasting what he had only imagined, the heat and salt of a cock heavy with need. The room is bare, the sofa worn, but in that moment it is the center of the world: a man, a boy, and the silence charged with everything they cannot say.
This is not pornography. It is virile eroticism—where the body speaks louder than words, where desire is rough, risky, and unforgettable. These stories will leave you with the lingering taste of skin, the smell of sweat, and the certainty that every man carries within him a secret hunger, waiting to be fed.
