Overly Manly Man Novels & Stories

I almost feel like a granddad. Anyway, between Shrey and me, he has always been the bright one. My mother loves him and all my ex-girlfriends have always found him very attractive. Clearly, I don’t see what those girls did. Well, Shrey is tall, dark and fairly handsome. His hair is like thin noodles like those African- American disco dancers and it gives him character. The most striking thing about him is his disregard for the impossible. There is nothing in the world he thinks he cannot do. His overconfidence makes him almost cocky. In one crisp sentence—He is a freak.

Jaxon handled the entire execution process, and I couldn't be bothered to interfere either. They were so worried that I would sabotage them that they spent all their energy guarding against me, only to end up shooting themselves in the foot. If they had let me supervise just once, I could have pointed out their mistakes in time. But since they were so full of themselves, they could learn it the hard way. Hailey's company didn't deserve such an excellent project, so I revamped the original project blueprints and used them for my new company. Since I oversaw every detail myself, the quality was top-tier, and Julia signed a contract with me worth hundreds of millions of dollars.

his huge throbbing cock and the precum painted on the tip, was everything. The clean smell, the size, the length, he is literally everything a man should be. Even though Mr Antonio had a reputation for his play boy and promiscuous lifestyle, also surrounded by many women in his mansion and outside. He will never lay a finger on a bitch who is not of a blue blood, this is a fact that May was certain of. “So you have been storing it up for me huh? It's going shoot a whole lots of loads, that's if only you are not a sex maniac who can take on any hole at all…”.

This is what Lorene was talking about and I know who I’m staring at. My rage from the last hour turns to a low simmer. It’s difficult to disregard the sexual signals thrumming through my body. He’s tall and younger than most of the other men out here. God decided to play a joke on every red-blooded, dark-skinned woman when he gave this man breath. He should be modeling and not associating with trash. Who am I kidding? He’s trash and just because he’s attractive doesn’t mean he has a brain.

Hildegarde sighed as she spoke. “Dumbasses. The sun is right before you.” she murmured before wishing the ignorant multitude the very best. “Who are you?”A man decked in expensive armor from head to toe stepped out of the hundreds of armed men and women and approached Mane. This man exuded the energy of a peak Heaven Realmer, and the three goons who followed him were just as strong and heavily tailored. “You aren’t the one I want to speak to,” Mane answered simply with his hands crossed before his chest.

Arc 2: My Rival's Girl I'm not a good man. I want to be upfront about that before any of this unravels. Good men don't spend twenty minutes in the shower with one hand braced against the tiles and the other wrapped around their cock, replaying the way a woman laughed at someone else's joke across a dinner table. Good men don't lie awake cataloguing the exact curve of someone's girlfriend's mouth or the way a particular dress sits on particular hips or the specific sound of a name said in a particular voice.

A towering figure, tall and massive, walked with an air of intimidation. The man's physique was imposing, muscles straining against the fabric of his dark shirt. His skin was a tapestry of scars and tattoos, each one telling a story of a life lived on the fringes of society. This was Macho, a man known for his brutality and ruthlessness in the criminal underworld.

“You did this…by being….so…so ….” “I know…cute.” He finishes for me, rolling his eyes. “Guys don’t want to be cute, you know. We want to be sexy and manly. And we want our women to swoon with gifts, not turn hysterical….do you want my shirt to blow your nose?”

It must be so nice to be a man and be so confident you can get away with anything. “I guarantee you, they'll say nothing, if they even notice you in there. There's no other men around, and we haven't seen an employee in the past thirty minutes. They're probably cooking bowls in the alleyway.” I chuckle. “Cooking bowls, Daddy? Geez, you're old.” He taps his head. “Yeah, old enough to know that most rules in this world can be broken with few consequences.” I blush, but I love how Daddy talks like that. It's so masculine, so domineering, like nothing in this world could hold him down. All it takes is that form of arrogance to make it seem no problem at all to do something so forbidden.