In these pages, Manuel García strips desire down to its raw essence. His men are not fantasies—they are real, flesh and blood, hard-working, silent, sometimes brutal. They collide in everyday life: a glance in the bathroom mirror, a hand brushing against another, an insult that turns into an embrace. What follows is not romance, but the pulse of sex, power, and hunger that lingers long after the body has surrendered.
At the heart of this collection is the story Waiting for You: a man returns home from Brazil, greeted like a soldier after battle. But his war is private, waged in silence, in betrayals, in the shadow of his ex-lover. Family warmth mixes with buried tensions, until the chance encounter with Rafael, his stepfather, turns a banal evening into a dangerous spark. The past resurfaces in the cramped bathroom of a pizzeria, where memory, lust, and forbidden desire collide.
The heat of July presses on the skin. His shirt clings to his chest, the scent of sweat mingling with beer. Rafael’s hand is too heavy on his neck, too familiar, and yet impossible to resist. Words are scarce—eyes, gestures, the roughness of skin do the speaking. In that charged silence, everything trembles: the unsaid, the forbidden, the promise of what could still happen.
Waiting for You is not pornography. It is the art of virile eroticism—men who want men, who take and resist, who reveal desire in the most unexpected cracks of daily life. These stories leave an aftertaste of sweat, smoke, and longing, like a look that lingers too long, like a door that never fully closes.
