Books To Read As A Man の小説・ストーリー

"No. It's fine. Take it. And when you're done, come back and pick another one. Or stay here and read if you prefer." "Thank you." "Why do you like these kinds of books?" He handed it back to me. I thought about lying but something about the way he was looking at me made me want to tell the truth. Or at least part of it. "I like stories where people choose their own path. Where they're not trapped by circumstances or fate. Where they get to decide who they want to be." He studied me for a long moment. "What other kinds of books do you like?" "History. Adventure. Mysteries. Anything really."

Mira My mouth fell open, and I couldn’t even hide my surprise. This man was gorgeous. I had seen good looking men before, but he was on an entirely different level. “Mira, meet my dad,” Anna repeated, snapping me out of my completely inappropriate thoughts about all the ways I could gladly devour this man. Anna and I met at a bookstore last month. We clicked instantly and became close fast. Since then, she had been begging me to come over to her house, and now here I was, standing in front of the most breathtaking man I had ever laid eyes on.

I'd secretly wanted to for years but I never thought I was close enough to the type of guy he likes. Man, oh man! I couldn't even tell you how many men were inside me. Or how many I was inside of. Practically every one of them was addictive! Big, long, hard, rubbery, torpedo shaped, giant, thick, thin, you name it, everything a man could ever hope for was right there. In me, on me, against me, around me; there were slime covered bodies slipping and sliding - it was way better than ALL of my fantasies!

When I was about to start apologizing, he said, "Too many thoughts. Too many decisions. Too many people depending on me to be infallible." The vulnerability in his voice shook me to my bones. Something twisted in my chest. This was not the cold, commanding king I had first met. This was someone else. Someone who carried weight that would crush most people. "Books help," he continued. "They take me out of my own head for a while. Let me be someone else, somewhere else." I understood that better than he could possibly know. "What do you read?" I found myself asking, moving closer without conscious decision.

The man didn’t stand up or at least meet her eyes to acknowledge her, which Claire found to be a little bit rude for someone who needed help. “So I found all these books”, he said, still staring at the books sprawled in front of him. “But… I really can’t decide which one to choose. I need a recommendation” Claire glanced at the stack of books scattered on the floor and quickly read the titles. Based on the mess, she thought that there must be around twenty books, more or less— all about the history of art. She wasn’t that interested in history nor does she enjoy art, so even if she wanted to, she didn’t have any recommendations to give.

’ W-what were these explicit books? Glaring at him, she couldn’t help but grumble, “…Just what kinds of books are you reading…?!” “…What? Making love is completely normal between married couples, and they’re great at keeping relationships together too. Just so you know, men tend to cheat on their expecting wives, not that I would ever do that. Anyway, just know that I’m reading all these for your sake.” …For her sake? Was he for real?!

“I want to tell you what kind of book it is. Not what the back cover says you’ve read that. What I think it actually is.” I looked at the room. “It’s a book about a man,” I said. “Specifically, a particular man his hands, his voice, the strong black tea he drank every morning for thirty years, the way he cried at my school graduation and didn’t pretend he hadn’t. The way he cooked on Saturday afternoons and believed, without sentimentality, that paying full attention to the small things was the substance of a life.” I paused. “It’s also a book about what happened to him. What was constructed and deployed against him by people who found him threatening and found it convenient to remove him. W

I picked up from where he ended, “‘I can take other women, but you can't be seen with any other man.’” “Why do people write books like that?” “Why do we read books like that?” I shot back, laughing, and he gave a defeated smile. “You got me.” All fell into silence once more, as we read. I discovered we were ridiculously close, but he didn't seem to notice. “But, if it weren't for books, most of us would have crumbled.” He said in a soft voice that made me feel he'd also gone through a lot. “You sound like you've had quite a lot of troubles.”

What mattered most was the absence of any feminine touches; it was undeniably the dwelling of a single man. I pointed to a row of finance and management books on Trevis's shelf and said, "Trevis, why do you only have these types of books? I enjoy reading some youth and romance novels. How about we go buy some this week and bring them over?" Trevis hesitated and then asked, "Why?" I replied confidently, "Well, when I move in, it will help me adapt more quickly. Reading at night helps me sleep better." Approaching Trevis, I took hold of his arm and continued, "Trevis, could you show me around your place?"

Twenty-five men. Twenty-five stories. One thing they all have in common is desire. Some men fall for the person they were never supposed to want. A forbidden crush on a straight boss. A brother's best friend who was always off-limits. A divorce lawyer who becomes far more than a professional. A bodyguard who gets dangerously close to his client. A fake boyfriend who doesn't stay fake for long. A retired adult-film star determined to leave his past behind, until someone recognizes the man he used to be. There are also rivals who can't stand each other, roommates who discover an attraction they never expected, supposedly straight married men whose lives are turned upside