Famous Androgynous Men Novels & Stories

For better understanding, I'm to be addressed as a woman not a man. My name from henceforth will be known and pronounced as Jefsexy no longer Jeffrey”. He adjusted himself using his tongue to rub in-between his red beautiful painted lips and then continued. “All documents related to me are still valid but my name will be changed to Jefsexy. In addition to this, I'm no longer the son of Mr. Andrey. My new father will be revealed in a couple of days to come and I appeal to parents, government and all other civil organisations to please every human to act what he or she wants and to choose our gender. We're in a free world and must be allowed to act freely. Long live this great nation.” He conc

They were truly magnificent, their manhoods standing erect, hard and sizable, beckoning to be explored. Adam, with his taller and leaner frame, possessed short dirty-blonde hair that perfectly complemented his piercing blue eyes. Giovanni, on the other hand, had darker hair, his mischievous blue eyes dancing with an alluring charm. His chest was an epitome of masculine strength and dedication.

There in the middle of the ballroom was Hassan Khalid, an Arab with flaming red hair and a body so red and muscular with green eyes, beside him another man, Samir Jamal himself. Having Samir Jamal who was as handsome as the other man with hair as black as night, he had a body carved in stone, he was a partner as well as a landlord, builder and entrepreneur in transport and export. All three men had been famous, as far as their reputation was as equal as Amaterasu's, both three men who caught fire from sculptural cups, their faces beautiful and sensual, they were men carved from marble, muscular bodies, perfect gods on earth, as much as they were men, beautiful viriles and conquerors.

There was a frown on his face that did not leave even though his attention was shifted to something else or maybe to me. I was not offended. Really. I was not offended at all when the frown was suddenly turned into a scowl. I got to hand it to him. The scowl might be ugly but his face was not. The man was in no doubt attractive. Surprisingly, his beauty is that of androgynous. With a midnight black hair, beautiful sculpted nose, lips painted in a blooming color with an artist putting it in much detail and a strong well defined jaw that brought distinction that his features were more on the masculine than feminine.

he let out a chuckle and replied, "You know me, brother. I can't help but admire the beautiful nature the God has made." Rocco Romano, he was the bad boy and a famous model working for top brands like 'Giorgio Armani and Calvin Klien. He is said to be the biggest playboy in the media industry. Rocco changes the girls like he changes his shirts. And he is the best friend of Darby Rothschilds... he travels a lot and has no fixed home. Right now the best friends are sitting in a cafe enjoying their coffees. "I know the meaning of your beautiful nature," Darby twitched his lips.

Even in the bed hair he looked extremely sexy, and looked much younger. The swirl of his loamy cologne had her swooning in the aisles. He wasn’t a male model but he should have been. Handsome in an understated way, his basalt jaw and Spartan shoulders spoke of strength. Even for the little she knew upon him, he was a man who talked only with purpose and authority. He seemed molded from a different cast as he had an androgynous look uncommon to most people. That was his quality which often got her intimidated by him but deep within him she knew there was a man brimming filled with passion and desire. “Go on, check me out. You have full rights to do that.” His eyes were still closed. But how d

A Brad Pitt clone? As I turned around, I noticed that the man in front of me looked a little like Brad Pitt. His hair was the color of Achilles' armor and perfectly coiffed. His eyes were as clear as a mountain stream, and his face were in perfect proportion to one another as if he were looking into a mirror. He appeared to have been cast from a distinct mould, as he possessed an androgynous appearance that was unusual among most people. He exuded energy, having been lacquered and enameled by the sun.

He wore it with casual elegance that suggested he knew exactly how striking he was. Androgynous. That was the word. He existed in some liminal space between masculine and feminine, embodying both and neither simultaneously. The kind of face you couldn't stop looking at because your brain couldn't quite categorize it, and that mystery made him even more compelling. And apparently, he was also a complete asshole. "Well," I said, recovering from my assessment. "There's a first time for everything." He pushed past me without another word, his shoulder deliberately knocking into mine as he disappeared into the crowd.

Any normal man would accept her request gladly without the slightest hesitation! The rest of the female club members spoke in succession. “That’s right, Lady Adelaide. Perhaps you’ve overestimated this man. He might be able to function as a normal man.” “I heard that there are many men with sexual issues in the common world. They have sexual disorders or are only interested in disgusting things. I think Zayn must be someone like that.” “Definitely. I didn’t think he’d have such issues, given how masculine he looks. It’s sickening.”

And there, suspended in a complex web of ribbons, were two men. They were identical in every way, mirror images frozen in mid-air. Both had lean, whipcord muscular bodies honed by acrobatics, pale skin dusted with chalk, and faces of striking androgynous beauty: high cheekbones, full lips, eyes of a clear, crystalline blue. They hung naked, their bodies graceful even in repose, their dicks, both of impressive length and thickness, semi-erect against their thighs.