Any Man Novels & Stories

While I was eating, a man came in wearing a jacket, black pants, converse shoes, and a white shirt with a gray jacket over it. I can't help but look at him, he has a side view of me, his jaw line is perfect, his adams apple I can see it has increased because of swallowing it, my throat feels dry, I don't know if it's because of the chocolate cake I'm eating or because of his adams apple, I looked down at his six pack abs, I can see it freely because his jacket is not zippered, and because the white shirt is close to his body and the big bulge at the bottom his pants maybe he has a big pet? It's just in my mind.

The man before me was at least six foot four with raven black hair, a square sharp jawline, and perfectly shaped thick brows. He was looking around the library and, if his knitted brows were anything to go by, he was angry. Maybe he had been waiting on someone and they had stood him up. But who would stand up a guy like that? He was clearly a gym junkie, with one of his arms as big as my two arms combined. As the man began to walk away I heard a voice behind me. “He’s hot, isn’t he?”

The man asked. "You are a man who has a strong taste for blood," Blackwheel looked riveted. "A man who derives joy in using women to do his underground work." "I am more than that," the man replied. "I am Man. Call me Man!" Alberto sounded smug. "You want us to call you the collective name assigned to every male specie of the human race?" "You heard me loud and clear. I am Man."

“Single?” “Yes” “Would you like to leave with me?” He suggested. … In a private room, a group of men with many ladies by their side were partying happily. Some were dancing, two men were up on a stage singing loud karaoke, some men were just drinking and chatting, while some of them were flirting or being massaged by a lady, except a man who was silently smoking with his eyes closed. The man was in his early thirties. He was putting on a couple of gold chains on his neck and wrist, he had an earring in his left ear, his hair was dyed purple, and he looked like the typical gangster leader.

Just enough. The first one was fine. The second one we scrolled past without discussion. The third one made us both go still. Red background. A man from the shoulders down — no face, no name, just structure. Wide shoulders, a chest that looked carved, abs that led down to a V line so sharp it disappeared into dark trousers like a map to somewhere dangerous. One hand held a black belt loosely at his side. At the bottom of the frame a woman's hand rested on the waistband of his trousers, her position making it clear she was on her knees.

Damn it! Who is that man, and why am I the way I am? I've been outside the company, but I haven't caught up with him. I can no longer see him. I only know he's wearing a gray tux and is tall and has long hair, but he still looks manly and masculine. Oh, no! Where has he gone?

“That’s what I needed. Thanks.” The overcaffeinated man let out a low whistle, his eyes fixated on the picture of me and X fighting. “Is that a Man in Black? Getting his ass kicked? They’re indestructible! I’d hate to meet the guy who could open up a can of whoopass on a Man in Black like that.”

The Man said to Max then started to walk out of the room. This man was untouchable man of the Los Angeles name JAMES ANDERSON. A 30 year old young man who was the business tycoon and has a secret business which nobody knows. He has many rules in his life but one rule is unforgivable to him was betrayer. He can let go any other mistake but not betrayal. He is the person from which everyone afraid of. He was handsome like a Greek God, He has Dark Brown hair, eyes are hazel in color, Fair complexion of skin, tall in height, Six packs with muscle, aura of a intoxicating person, He was the man that every girl desire for but he is allergic to girl. He thinks that they are troublesome.

I don't move as I wait to see who steps out. The first man is tall and muscular, wearing a light grey suit with a black button-up shirt underneath. The top two buttons are undone, and the thought of running my hands inside that shirt makes my knees weak. He has thick blonde hair, and his piercing blue eyes meet mine. Then, another man gets out behind him.

Interlude. Four days later. “I found a human,” A man said with his head held high above his shoulders. He stood facing the window that looked into the far city, its light pollution preventing him from seeing the stars. “A very strange smelling one.” He was a large man, at least seven feet tall with a broad muscular frame. He was clean-shaven with russet brown hair that grew past his ears, brushing the top of his shoulders. All in all, he looked like a man who’d seen much in life, and who’d done much as well. There was a scar running down his cheek, from his eye to his jaw like a tear track. He wore only a pair of pants, standing barefoot on the plush carpet of the office.