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This book is the brainchild of Manuel García, a veritable treasure trove of forbidden pleasures and passionate encounters, designed specifically to satisfy the most daring erotic appetites of adult homosexual readers. Get ready to dive into a whirlwind of unmentionable desires, into an erotic universe burning with passion and seduction. Thanks to his magnetic and sensual writing, García caresses your most secret fantasies, accompanying you on a journey beyond the limits of male intimacy. The book challenges conventions and breaks all taboos, offering a glimpse of the most explosive encounters, the deepest bonds, and the most ecstatic pleasures. The pages of this book reveal stories that will keep you spellbound, awakening a desire you cannot ignore. Let yourself be transported to unknown worlds, where sin is the driving force behind the most intense emotions. García's characters reveal themselves in transgressive encounters, in moments of boundless passion, in a symphony of desire that ignites your darkest fantasies. Manuel García's provocative and detailed writing is an explosion of sensuality that will make you shiver with pleasure. Through his stories, he invites you to explore your sexuality without inhibitions, to abandon yourself to your deepest instincts without remorse or restrictions. This work of fiction is your passport to a world of lust and forbidden adventures. Don't miss out on this read that will take you to a place of intense pleasure, daring dreams, and sensations that will make your skin tingle. Sit back, relax, and let yourself be carried away by a read that will make you feel emotions without limits, stimulate your imagination, and ignite an unquenchable flame of desire. These stories await you, ready to take you beyond the limits of pleasure, where passion reigns supreme and ecstasy is your traveling companion.
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Seitenzahl: 101
Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2025
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My College Buddy
Explicit Gay Erotic Stories in Italian for Adults
Manuel García
Imprint
© 2025 Manuel Garcia
Cover photo: Canva
Printing and distribution on behalf of the author:
tredition GmbH, Heinz-Beusen-Stieg 5, 22926 Ahrensburg, Germany.
The work, including its parts, is protected by copyright. The author is responsible for its content. Any use without the author's permission is prohibited. Publication and distribution are carried out on behalf of the author, who can be contacted at the following address: Manuel Garcia, Nordstrasse 5, 99427 Weimar, Germany.
Contact address in accordance with the European Product Safety Regulation: [email protected]
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INDEX
Imprint
Follow me!
INDEX
The second best weapon
Art, artists and me and Kike
The swimming pool
From the other shore
My Birthday
Admiration
Around coffee
Marriage
Among the books
My college buddy
Acknowledgements
The second best weapon
I still get excited when I remember that moment. I had waited for him for a short time, but I would have waited a long time for his arrival. On the phone, his voice had been the best sexual stimulant for my brain, soaked in emotion and hungry for new sensations.
When I got out of the cab it was a flash that hit my skin so hard that I didn't take my eyes off him for a single moment, at the risk of being alerted by passersby, the ladies on the sidewalk, the hotel doormen, the traffic cop, the whole world could have stopped, for me it was Joaquín who was the only one shining. Visually, his image came impeccably to my mind to reconcile with the voice trapped in my memory from a few minutes earlier.
I also met Joaquín through the internet. Our mutual discovery was almost fortuitous, that discovery of the needle in the haystack, a strange mixture of bewilderment and pleasure that often tears our sanity many times over. More than one of us has managed to dodge the flirtations of sexual dementia when it shyly appears between the keyboard of a PC and the small webcam accomplice of our furtive cyber encounters. The thirst to have it all is an ambition few of us can face, let alone survive.
Talking and playing secret games on a boring and hot afternoon in the summer of 2002, in the center of Miraflores, with hot humidity in the air and lax leisure time. Joaquín appeared, a carefree, light-hearted and shameless little boy.
That's what drew me to him, even though Joaquín is not a name I easily overlook, I liked him from that small detail. I, as always, teetering between interest and nonchalance, conversed with him at his own pace, in his own language. We hit it off a short time later and decided to meet immediately. In this I have always been an expert, in the art of provocation, of secret mystery and prepared incognito. Joaquín played with what he had as his second best weapon, the freshness of his newfound youth, his eerie voice of a rapacious residential boy and his desire to see me.
We met on Benavides Avenue, the most central avenue in Miraflores, at 5 p.m. I arrived a little early so I could cordon off the stage and wait for him carefully. Just before 5:00 I called him on his cell phone to confirm his arrival. His voice was cool, exciting, lustful and heedless, like I was wearing a pair of boss jeans with ripped knees or dirty mouth edges. It was boozy, that feeling.
I was so turned on by talking to him, by his ecstatic confidence and desire for me, that I couldn't help but notice the erection in me, the same erection that was being noticed by the humans around me. I almost secretly settled down so I could continue talking. He told me he would be here in a few minutes. I settled in the doorway of a pharmacy to wait discreetly.
When he got out of the cab I was stunned. He was a small boy with a petite frame, but a confident walk. His small angel face matched his slender figure perfectly. He had a very fair complexion, dark brown hair, messy, cool, wet, soft, fragrant, a delight from his very presence, matched perfectly with his thick-rimmed black tortoiseshell glasses. His body was slim, small, shapely, with an air of nonchalance, well-dressed. He wore, I remember it very well, a pair of red commando pants, a cream-colored T-shirt and a cream-colored hoodie, dressed carefully but without obsession.
We were seeing each other and knew everything. We started walking away from the mass of non-existent people and began a routine conversation. I watched him out of the corner of my eye, subtly turning my face from time to time to contemplate his radiant, youthful little beauty. Joaquín was his name, without reservation or hesitation. He was a student at Catholic University, as I was. He had many plans for his life, he was ambitious, determined, resourceful and courageous. This gave him greater confidence.
He called himself gay, modern to be exact, but hoped he would have no trouble changing his ways one day. His hair moved with the rhythm of his words and so did my erection. I wanted to feel him closer already. Suddenly his comments became flirtatious, his gaze locked on mine, and his little red lips began to move in a cavalier direction, inciting my desires beyond anything else.
We came to the climax of the movie theater. We looked at each other and without saying anything we agreed to go inside to continue playing to please the audience. I remember it was the week of the premiere of The Phantom Menace, a movie I hadn't seen yet and wouldn't be seeing that afternoon. We sat down quickly because the movie had started five minutes earlier. We never paid attention to the movie, no matter how much of a premiere it was.
Immediately he placed his hand on my crotch. I shuddered hopelessly. I felt the warmth of her hand, bold, playful, lascivious. He stroked my penis on his pants, gently but firmly, as if massaging and extracting pleasure a little at a time. I did the same, placing my hand on his sex. It was swollen, throbbing, and hot. We were on fire and the darkness shielded us with complicity, not even our quiet, inaudible whispers could be heard. I put my hand on his back, went down until I tripped over his buttocks, since he was thin, his pants were baggy and my hand could intercept his flesh in an Olympic maneuver. It was delightful to see that both sides were accepted by him towards me, which ensured much more of this journey to the senses and pleasure.
Her shame was trapped between her hand and my cock. She began to undo my pants in search of my penis, already wet, already huge. She found it and pulled it out, lowered her head and with a very bold gesture began to blow me. The sense of the forbidden and the public excited our bodies even more in that overwhelming darkness. With each infamous movement of her mouth swallowing my cock, my convulsing body struggled to continue in that hallucinatory ecstasy of exorbitant sexuality.
His tongue swiftly and wildly roamed all over my thick, exacerbated, red, throbbing penis, tasting it, savoring it, caressing it with his small but agitated lips. I could feel all my milk tending to the lunge, so I stopped him. I felt like doing the same, but it was time to take it to the next level. I whispered, let's go somewhere else. Easy, he said.
We left the movie theater in a hurry, grabbed a cab and were on a direct, non-stop ride. In the cab we kept touching each other, licking each other's anxieties, not afraid of anything, not looking at anyone, no disgust or glory, it was just skin deep desire, desire for him, desire for me.
We arrived at the site in 15 minutes. It was a mid-range hotel, quite cozy and nice, unobtrusive and simple, although located in the middle of a commercial area with simple people. It was a small hotel I always went to, away from everything and everyone, but giving me the feeling of comfort I always need. I went there so many times and in so many ways that I always remember it. We walked in quickly, staring at each other. With his protruding teeth he bit the corners of his small lips, hoping to devour me as soon as we were alone. And so it was. When we entered the room we were given we threw ourselves face down on the bed, tearing off our clothes, wounding our souls, tearing apart our impulses. I felt his hands steady, wild, furious, and I let him. With the same force I removed his clothes. We felt free from the fire of flesh that consumed us at every moment. It was delicious to feel those emotions, to see him with his little angel face, horny, aroused, confident, it was more than enough for me. I wanted it all, in every way. We were both ready for anything. It was already clear.
Half-naked as we were, we looked at each other, burning with desire. I looked down. I couldn't believe it. That boy in his twenties, with the angel face, small lips, slim body and brown hair had a huge animal between his legs, perhaps the biggest monster I had ever seen. To this day there has been no one who has surpassed that sight. It was an infamous tree, at least ten inches long, thick, pink, thick, throbbing, deliciously erect, with large round balls.
Humanly, it was inconceivable, almost unacceptable, perhaps impossible, that someone would have such a large penis - really so beautiful - let alone someone as small in figure as Joaquín. It was a sweet nightmare, because as soon as I finished admiring and contemplating him I knew that I would have to accept that after inserting my humble 16 centimeters into him he would push that huge veiny flesh inside me. I understood then why something had told me that the display of his youth and beauty was only Joaquin's second best weapon. His confidence, I realized, came from his Greek perfection, his deformed muscles, that beautiful, disproportionate piece of sex.
I jumped, I had no other idea, on his big cock. I ate him in pieces, just a few, it was impossible for me to put it all in my mouth, but it turned me on so much to do so, they smelled so good, him and his balls, that I had no choice but to dive into his extremities and delight in him now, swallowing every inch of his little body. It was a perfect moment, feeling that white skin, licking his moles on his back, smelling his hair, tearing at the soles of his feet. I didn't hold back, it was so rich, I was so happy. I threw myself on his anus, smelling like I couldn't help but like, I licked and licked so much that my tongue went numb. He was simply ecstatic, moaning deliciously with pleasure, his voice hoarse from his age and sex.
After the proper 69, done fiercely, our gazes enlisted each other's attention. I went first. A spin in my brain with each movement made my body feel escaped, ethereal, volatile. I moved in a circular motion inside her tiny anus, opening her tight, tight, fleshy, fragrant buttocks. It was a swoon of the spirit to feel the cum pass in slow motion from my hard balls to invade her tiny asshole. A long stream of white cum flowed down from my cock to his insides, eliciting convulsive moans of great and small pleasure. When he was done, he turned and grabbed my cock, pulled me close and kissed me on the lips, deep, brief, but heartfelt.
It was the most beautiful moment after so much madness, our lips were red, our tongues swollen, our skin twisted, but our eyes were clear, open, alive. Calm came. But he wanted his and I wanted him to have it. I turned with will and confidence. I settled in. Of course he, knowing his disproportions, was attentive, fatherly. It was a rare thing, cute, but strange. Suddenly I saw him grow, not in size but in soul. Every time I got to know him better, I understood him, I understood everything about him. He was a good guy and he was very big.
