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Manny Ch. 01

By: AudreyHepburn



Arizona, 1980

They had been 18 the night the terrible car accident occurred. 

Manny Meza had wanted Jessica Abby with every inch of his six foot three inch frame for as long as he could remember. They had been in high school together and before that middle school but sometime in those years when a girl turns into a woman, Jessica had became a goddess. Manny knew he wasn't unattractive by any means,in fact many people considered him equally as attractive as she. He was statuesque, white-skinned, muscular and a star football player in high school. He grew up working his father's ranch. Thick dark brown hair almost black, and eyes that were deep and brown. Straight white teeth. and a smile that would melt an icy void between any woman's thighs. His voice was deep and yet loud, a man's man voice, but a unique voice tinged with a slight Hispanic accent owing to the fact his parents were Mexican. With his huge physique, he could have easily passed for an ox. All the ranch work left him muscular and huge but Manny wasn't the type to flaunt what he had. He often wore loose jeans and work boots, with a t shirt, or button down in winter. Oddly enough, it was his modesty that drove women absolutely crazy. Manny was shy and quiet, but strong and resourceful, taking care of business when it needed to be done. He took care of his folks and little sister, and worked the ranch during the day. He had wanted to go to college but his father needed him at home, and had no choice and therefore stayed. 

He could have had any woman he wanted, but the woman he wanted was Jessica, who was the best, not only because she was his best friend but because he knew that behind her own demure nature and intelligence beat the heart of a wanton. She was liquid sex, unparalleled in figure. She was five foot three inches of playful wood nymph. Long nut brown hair, and dark brown eyes kept her face youthful. She had the type of face that wasn't loudly gorgeous, but beautiful to behold. She could pull off every look in the book, and god was gracious when he handed her a generous helping of curves. Her hips were round, and her breasts perfectly sized and her ass was to die for. 

Because she was his best friend, Manny had a hard time conveying his feelings for her. It came down to one night, there one night together before Jessica left for college. Manny knew this wasn't the greatest opportunity, but he had to try. Jessica had been driving that night and by every logic it was she who had caused the accident and she should have been sent to prison. Made bold by the fact it was to be their last night together before she left the cultureless void and imprisoning desert of Arizona for bigger and better things in New York City where she was to major in English and Creative Writing, aspiring to the career of a novelist.The accident would never truly leave their minds and memories. Jessica had allowed herself to be taken out on a date with Manny. Deep down, she was drawn to him, had even repressed her own desire for him. It went beyond lust. In her innocence and school-girlish mind, she fantasized about marrying him, taming him, making him less of a seemingly brainless jock and into an educated, successful man and a romantic. They went to a restaurant, where Manny had coaxed her into drinking alcohol, despite not being of the legal age to drink. He passed her off as twenty one, for she looked it and before the end of the evening, she had consumed too many "shots". The result was natural. She was intoxicated and driving. He had not even wanted to drive for her. He intended to take advantage of her in this state and told her to drive down an unknown road off the main highway and into a secluded region in the desert. But they never made it more than half a mile out of town when the car struck a smaller vehicle. Its driver, an old woman, died instantly. That was the last time they had seen each other. Before long, the family of the elderly woman pressed charges against Manny, who took the blame, out of love for Jessica. If she were to go to jail, she'd lose out on a career as a writer and student at a private university in New York where they would not have tolerated this indiscretion.

New York City, 1986

Years passed. They were both of them now twenty six. Jessica had been through college and had become first a writer for a woman's literary magazine and then an independent novelist, while Manny had sat in prison. She had moved from home when her father passed away and now lived in an apartment in Manhattan of her own. She had felt guilty every single day of her life. And then the shock of her life arrived one night in August. She heard that Manny Meza had been released from prison on good behavior. He was now a free man, and he would not go home. He'd look for her. She knew she wouldn't sleep for the rest of the long hot night.

It was as if a nightmare was unfolding into intense and frightening reality. She was just beginning to drift into sleep at three in the morning when she heard her bedroom window opening up.

"Why if it isn't Miss Jessica Abby," she heard a familiar voice say in a low growl.

Jessica got up from the bed and gasped. She couldn't think or breathe. Her blood raced. She could see him in the mirror from her bed. It was him. The eyes, the big masculine face, his hard body. He was in black slacks and a white dress shirt rolled to the elbows looking relaxed and very menacing. But god in heaven did he look delicious. Prison had changed him. He was even more muscular than when she had last seen him. No longer possessing a football player/jock's body, he was a huge, threatening thing. There was a small scar above one of those gorgeous brown eyes, and his smile had become lopsided, teasing and malicious. He had grown facial hair. This was a dangerous man.

Manny noticed the fear in her eyes.and her inability to say anything at all. He spoke again.

"Oh yes it's me and your right. I have changed. Six long years and the only thing I had to think about was you. You hurt me more than you will ever know. You never gave me a thought. So high and might. I had to fight off God damn assfuckers every damn day and all I had to keep me warm at night was the sight of your back as you walked away from me that night on the road. I loved you, went to jail for you and here you are, successful and guilt-free. I bet you even have a boyfriend or husband now."

Jessica was visibly shaken but she somehow managed to summon courage to speak.:"You bastard, you're crazy. You break into my apartment like this as soon as you get out of jail. You don't know anything. You don't know how I really felt all those years. I died that night on the road, and even my writing has been inspired by -"

Tears ran down her face. She did not recognize him as the virile, playful, warm jock he had once been, the guy she had always loved throughout high school, but had never told him. Now there was hate in his eyes and fear in hers.

He had made it to her bed, not an abrupt leap or attack, but a stealthy and quick move.

"Please don't kill me. I love you," Jessica said, crying.

Manny cursed under his breath. The feel of her body pressed to his, the slight smell of lavender that she always wore. The tears on her cheeks gave him a massive hard on. He wasn't going to let her get the best of him even if his anatomy wouldn't respond the way he'd like it to. He smiled a bit. He had a plan. He took her in a startlingly fierce strange hold by her neck.

"Too late, Jessica. Too late to say I love you. I don't love you anymore. Do you know what prison does to a man?" he growled as he squeezed a bit tighter on her soft throat

She shook her head no. 

"Prison turns a man into a monster." 

He growled in her ear and rubbed his erection on her thigh". 

He was lost in the smell of her, and tore his hand away from her throat and up her small light gray nightie, deftly ripping it off in one gesture before she could blink. 

"No, please Manny, don't," she said, "don't do this"

"Shut up."

He slapped her with a stinging whack of his hand, making a noise in the silence and darkness of the room. 

"This is something I've dreamed about since your pussy walked away from me years ago, a pussy I had always wanted."

Dear God, it was all over. She had never imagined he'd ever say these mean things or do what he was about to do to her. She sobbed in pain.

"Nah, don't cry. It won't hurt. And I won't kill you. I'm teaching you a lesson"

He laughed suddenly. It was an insane laugh.

"Hell, you might even like it."

With that, he pushed her head back and kissed her roughly, his mouth devouring her, his tongue thrusting into her wickedly. He then trailed hard kisses down her neck and his lips began to suckle on her exposed breasts. He laved her nipple with slow steadiness. Jess could hear his labored breathing and because he was slowing down, she was now beyond tears and protest. She succumbed to him. There was no other way out. 

She heard him growl something about always knowing she was a slut, and tore her mouth apart again leaving light whisker burns on her cheeks he began to kneed her inner thigh.

Inside, she was angry at herself for what she had done to her best friend so many years ago to turn him into this crazy, foaming fiend. She was certain he would rape her, not just roughly fondle her, and she was ashamed to feel pleasure out of this. She was beginning to get wet. His hand were now on her pussy, feeling it, caressing it and nearly fingering it roughly.

"Please, Manny, I'm a -"

Ethan stopped cold. She was a virgin. He could feel her virginity in his hand.

Jessica was crying and tried to close her legs against his hand, which he all of a sudden withdrew. Manny stood up with a pained look on his face, and all of a sudden kissed her again, with a minor amount of ferocity compared to the first kisses. 

"Goddamnit I still want you," he roared, "after all the fucking hell you put you through."

He knew raping her would be wrong, would forever make him a villain in her eyes and they'd never see one another again after this. He might even look at jail time once more. But he'd be damned if she wouldn't be begging for him too in the days after she had tasted him and how he could make love. As his big hand touched her sex, Jessica was still scared, but oddly wasn't angry. Shedidn't know what to expect from him but she knew whatever happened she had gotten was deserved. It somehow, somehow made sense. She was looking at it from his point of view, from his male logic. This was not quite how she had wanted him, not quite how she had fantasized they'd make love, but she would feel him inside her soon enough.

Sheknew there would be bruises on her thighs, and whisker burn on her face. She knew this wasn't the best time or place but he had melted her insides, to a living stream and just because she was a virgin did not mean that she had not indulge every now and again. She had never had a boyfriend, never married but in her young life after 18, she had allowed herself the pleasure of male lovers, namely professors and colleagues who were eager to eat her pussy and she had herself sucked cock. That teasing stroking finger that had encircled her clit had nearly driven her over the edge. Manny was certainly skilled. But how? She had been so foolish and naive to think he'd stay a virgin in high school as she did, staying true to her in his heart, loving her in silence as she had done. He had made love to other girls! She was angry at that fact, angry and jealous she had not been his first nor his most constant lover. She was jealous of girls she had never known from many years ago.

She could taste him on her lips, and smell him feel his hard chest pressing against her hard nipples . His hand was inside her wet open pussy, and he stretched it, making her writhe and gyrate her hips in sudden carnality. She began to moan loudly.creating a rhythm between his manipulation of her pussy with his hand and her rotating hips.

She moaned his name aloud, as she had always wanted to do, creeping her other hand to her dripping slit, making tiny circles around the outside of her button just as he had done. They were now in perfect unison.

Faster and faster, she cummed violently on her hand, moaning Ethan's name again and again , bucking violently wishing it was his cock that had sent her to the brink of orgasm and over it.

His massive erection was straining to be let free from his slacks. He unzipped, quickly and tore off his shirt. She was in awe at his magnificent male presence. He was so strong, so big, and his cock was bulging and frightenigly oversized.

A rigid 12inch ramrod was pulled out of his boxers. It was solid steel, with a massive mushroomed head at the tip. It was a good 6 inches in diameter and it was oozing precum due to his recent encounter with his old flame.

He had expected that he would want her, had expected to exact his revenge but what he hadn't expected was her virginity. 

"FUCK," Manny bellowed.

"I've got to have you, Jessica. I've got to get what I wanted so long ago. I want to fuck you."

Ethan groaned at the thought of being inside her.

Jessica was peacefully still and cool.

"There's nothing that can stop you," she said to him, with a grin.

"Damn you. Damn you. You like this. You really like this."

" I like you."

He was ready. He had always been proud of how much and how often he could cum, and today was no exception. He let out a roar.

"I'm gonna make you mine if it's the last thing I do." 

Manny Ch. 02



*Previously on "Manny": The time is the 1980's. The place New York. Jessica Abby and Manny Meza were secret admirers in high school back in Arizona but never acted on their feelings for each other. The last night senior year in high school finds them together in a car and an accident occurs, resulting in the death of an innocent pedestrian. Manny is concerned for Jessica's future at New York University and takes the blame for the death, ending up in prison.. Years later, he's released and finds Jessica, enraged and still feeling hot for her.

Jessica braced herself. She knew she should have been scared to death. Manny was big, monstrous, like a pro wrestler on steroids, with dark, heavy eyebrows that she had not remembered he even possessed in high school, strong jaw, muscles to spare, a hard-on that frightened her. He was sure to rip her virgin cunt open.

He threatened her with his very breath, which reeked of alcohol and nicotine and God knows what else. Her heart was pounding like mad. She should feel afraid. He could kill her afterward if he wanted to, he could strangle her to death. He might even be wielding a gun. But she was also feeling aroused. A strong sexual desire took over her, wanting him, wanting to feel his hard cock drilling inside her deeply, wanted him no matter how he looked like or behaved.

Sure. This was not the same Manny from high school. He had been a boy then, really, for all his bigness of body. Now, he was a hardened man, who had experienced hell. She was completely at his mercy. Her life could end that night, right there on the bed in her apartment. She would leave behind no children, only her own parents, and a staff that adored her and fawned over her at the publishers building for her own magazine -"City Woman". She gasped, as if she had just fallen into rapid waters.

"Fuck. Damn you," Manny said, "Damn you. I can't do it."

Jessica opened her eyes. "What did you say?"

"I'm so worked up...I'm so hot, so hard. I want it but...it would be rape. I'd just go to prison again. And there is no fucking way I'm going back to that place again."

She had not expected this sudden change, this calm attitude, this analytical side of him. He had come into her apartment through the window like a crazy rapist or thief. She had been so sure he'd ravish her with cruelty. She was panting but she tried to calm down herself. In the semi-darkness, in the New York City moonlight streaming through the window, she saw him with a clearer distinction. Before, she had just seen him vaguely, for he had been covered in darkness and saw him only through flashes of light - an eye, an eyebrow, his chest, his torso, the fire in his brown eyes. Now, she could see him with sharp clarity. For all his muscular He-Man physique and menacing presence, his eyes and facial expression had softened. He looked lost. He was the jock she remembered. He had a sad, silent, brooding, unreadable look, and for all that had happened, he could have been right there in that car in an Arizona road again, staring into the dark, his life about to change forever.

"I won't do it, you bitch," he said, "besides it looks like you wanted me to do it."

"I - no...I -"

He stared her down. She felt ashamed and lowered her head. Yes, she wanted him to take her, to make her his. She had never really lived a day in her life. She had once foolishly believed being a writer would be glamorous and adventures and excitement would follow. Adventure did not follow every writer and despite having left the sleepy towns of Arizona, and despite having had a degree of adventure in New York City, she had not really ever lived in the fast lane, in the verge of excitement, near death, near danger, as she had always wanted. She had not lost her virginity. She had known only some form of sex, but only slight arousal came out of it and she had never orgasmed. Only in her mind, and fantasies, and in each one of them, Manny was the provider of the orgasm.

Staring into one another silently, sadly, a rain began to fall over the street, making the sidewalk wet, the sound floating like a whisper into the apartment. The wet rain made them both aroused, but they dare not make another move. Manny cursed under his breath. He looked at her now, and there was a look of absolute disgust, as if he wondered why he had ever loved her in the first place, as if she were a dirty, filthy piece of garbage. Jessica stared in astonishment.

"Go to hell," he said to her, " straight to hell. You don't know how lucky you are. I've just saved your life. I could have killed you with one hand. I won't do it. I hate going to jail, and it won't be because of you again. I'm never going to jail. Life's going to be tough even now that I'm out of jail. Thanks to you. You made my life miserable. I do'nt know why I ever cared for you, fantasized about you, protected you, defended you, loved you. You realize my ex-con status is going to exclude me from any really nice job in the city? You realize no woman will ever really want me unless they're insane. You ruined my life. Yet you live here in this apartment and don't know how lucky you are. May not be much to you, an apartment, but it's a hell of a lot better than a fucking jail cell."

"Manny, I - "

"Shut up. You hear me, shut up. I hate you. I'm leaving you now and pray we never run into each other again."

With that, he was gone, through the window again, into the dark, rainy night, turning one last time to look at her through the window. Jessica was overcome with grief and tears began to flow down her cheeks. She covered her head with her hands and wept. New York City was less pleasant for her now. She went to work with caution and with fear. Manny had spared her life, but she had the feeling she was not going to see the last of him. When they had met in high school, for the first time, when they first layed eyes on each other and heard their voices, she felt a seed being planted in her, a seed which would grow into an enormous tree of love. How was it possible to love and yet not really be in a relationship? She had been young and it could be chalked up to a mere crush, but she knew it went beyond that. If she had just been infatuated with Manny, she would have moved on to another and found a real relationship. If not in Arizona, then most certainly in New York, where dozens of available and young professionals were eager to court her. But all she had ever wanted was Manny. And now he was gone. There was no way they could ever be together, to establish a relationship. An ex-con? With the head of a woman's magazine business? It was more than just how it looked. She was certain her career could flounder if people knew about his past. Even more so when they learned about her past - about her indiscretion and how it sent innocent Manny to jail while she got off scot-free. No. It was impossible to really love him. He haunted her dreams, all of them intensely erotic. In them, he would mount her from behind, and there was no way to know whether his cock was pounding into her pussy or her ass. All she could feel was his huge cock buried deep inside her, pumping into her, making her scream out in the intensity of it all. She could see his face contort savagely, see the flash of his teeth, see the flex of his muscular arms as he seized her by the hair, by her buttocks, slapping it. He was a wild, evil thing making her his wet whore. In her dreams, the rape that did not happen happened. And she loved it and thought it lovemaking.

"Miss Abby?" came a young girl's voice, waking her up from her erotic daydream.

Jessica opened her eyes. She put her hand on the desk, almost pounding it. She looked across the black desk and saw her personal assistant staring at her with perplexion.

"Miss Abby is something wrong? You nodded off and you moaned."

"O -I - um...everything's fine Marissa. I just...I haven't....really had much sleep is all. What were you trying to tell me?"

"The newest model for the magazine is here," her assistant Marissa said.

Marissa was twenty, young, a girl fresh out of high school. Jessica had hired her because she reminded her of herself at that age. And she could have been her. Marissa had come from Nevada to New York, also pursuing the goal of becoming a writer. She was slender and thin and wore glasses. But she was very pretty. Blonde, blue eyes, wore mostly skirts.

"The model? O, the one from Brazil. What was her name?"

"Yleana. She wants to see you right away. Should I tell her you're indisposed for now? Tell her to come back later?"

"No. That's wrong. She had an appointment. I can do without sleep for a day. Tell her to come in immediately and we'll discuss her contract."

"Come in, Miss Yleana. Miss Abby's waiting for you."

Marissa walked away and Yleana walked into Jessica's office. She was a tall woman, striking. Jessica was surprised. This one was a real model, not just someone with little experience like the other women she hired. "City Woman" magazine was about real women, not thin, Barbie-like women with glamorous auras. Jessica wrote about down-to-earth women who were into careers, starting families, everyday women, progressive women. It was the 80's after all and "greed is in" did not only apply to men. Jessica could foresee that in the coming decade of the 90's, women would be more assertive and run big businesses. She could already tell that about one particular woman named Martha Stewart.

Yleana was a beautiful woman. Her skin was white but yet, tan, glowing, as if she had been coated with bronze. Her eyes were dark green, mischievious, intelligent. Her body was like a professional female wrestler. Jessica guessed her Amazonian body owed to working out religiously at the gym. Working out at the gym was popular now. It was another place, besides a bar, where men and women could meet. She could see Yleana in some New York City gym, working out, sweating and socializing with admiring men.

"Yleana, do you speak both English and Spanish?"

"Yes, of course I do," she said, with only a hint of an accent.

"Oh, good. I only speak English. I used to know a little....learned from someone..."

Manny. It had been Manny who taught her a few Spanish phrases in high school. Her mind returned to him again, and she saw him as she last saw him - looking sad and mad in moonlight and in rain.

"Do you need me to start today or no? What kind of shoots are you doing?"

"There's a lot to go over. Your contract is only for a year. We want to make our first ever City Woman calendar. Of course, you'll have a few pages in the magazine set for you as well. Where's your photographer Paolo?"

"Paolo? Oh, that bastard. He's no longer my photographer. He went to Hollywood. He turned gay over night. Not that I don't have anything against gays but he had said he loved me and proposed marriage. I found him in bed with another man."

"I'm sorry. All this happened before you came to New York?"

"Yeah. I tried modeling in LA, of courses. It's big there too. And tried acting. But it was unproductive a time for mee and so I came here. I read one of your books and thought I'd come model for your magazine."

"You read one of my books? I've only had three published."

"I read your fist novel, "Canyon". About the Grand Canyon and those friends and lovers who visited every year over the years."

"I wrote that with my heart because I'm an Arizona girl."

"I know. I heard the interview on NPR. Listen, I really need to get a new photographer. Could you find me one?"

"I most certainly can. Welcome to City Woman, Yleana."

* * * * *

Jessica's fears that she'd run into Manny were crawling all over her again. She had for the longest time believed he was working on some little revenge plot. It was very possible. He could have been spying on her, waiting for the right time to strike. Maybe he was going to "tell on her" and get paid for it. Jessica Abby, novelist, magazine editor, criminal, killer, old lady killer to be exact, reckless drunken driver. He'd get paid if he blabbed about it to the right people, to other journalists and magazine folk. And Jessica did have enemies who wished they'd uncover some dirty story on her to bring her down. It hurt Jessica, a feminist at heart, to know that many of these enemies werent even men, but other women, other women who did not want to see her in a position of authority of any kind.

Somewhere in New York, Manny was lurking, behind some alley, behind some door, in some parked car, waiting, hoping to nail her. And not the kind of nailin she wanted from him. There were times when she swore she saw him in the grocery store, picking up some foods in the aisles, or paying the cashier. She thought she had seen him walking past an elementary school for children, coaching football for boys. She swore she saw him working out in some gym - though she had only seen his muscular back and behind. He could be anywhere. Why did she love him so? Why did he figure in her dreams so much? Why did he ruin other men for her? No man was like Manny. She had already refused the advances of several men, being a well-known writer and editor. She had gone to parties and she had been to galas and whenever a male implied he wanted to date, she turned them down flat. Only Manny continued to stay so persistently on her mind.

"I don't know what to say, Manny," she said to him.

"Of couse not. What do you say to an ex-con?"

"Oh don't start that again. You're free now. And you're alright."

"Not as free as I wish. And not free of you. Of the desire for you."

Why was he speaking like a romantic hero out of those romances she loved? Why did he have to be so god damn irresistable? She walked over to the other side of the shelf, the row that faced the window with streaming sunlight. She dropped her book as she approached him, bent and picked it up. Manny stared at her sweet behind. She pulled a stand of hair away from her face.

"What do you want with me?" she whispered.

"Come to me. Come be my love. Why not? No one has to know. You're entitled to some fun. Look at you, you're like some repressed English school teacher. You're an American girl for God's sake. The kind I like. And I've always loved you. I just couldn'nt tell you. I don't know why. Many reasons I guess."

"Like what?"

"My father, my Mexican father, and mother, would not have approved of the relationship. Their culture's different. They would have had me marry some Mexican girl that the family adores and I don't, and by the age of 23 a few years ago. I should be a father right now."

"But you aren't someone's father are you?"

"No "huera". White girl. Beautiful one. I'm single and yours, if you'll have me."

"Do you realize that people can't know who you are. Your jail time and all."

"What people? The ones that matter to you? Your magazine people?"

"Well, yes."

"They don't have to know. Besides, I'm not some loser. I've got a job in a local high school. I'm a coach. I really don't like it much. I mean it's not the kinda football I had hoped to play, not the life I wanted."

"Pro athlete life?"

"Right. Only one of us - you- got to live her dream. A writer in New York."

Jessica sighed.

"Life is not all that fun for me. It's just work, work, work."

"It's not fun for me either, but we've found one another again....and it could be fun."

She smiled at him. He had been smiling, too, through his words.

"What are you doing here, what's that book?"

"I'm going to borrow it. I need it fo work. A Brazilian model recommended it."

"Model?"

"Oh, you've never picked up an issue of "City Woman"?"

Manny looked at her like she was joking. His lips were pursed and his brow up.

"It's not something a guy would read, Jessica."

"Well, we use models, but not like Yleana. She's ...more professional."

"She's in the right place for it. So why don't you put away the book and come to my place. I live right across the street from the high school, here in Queens."

"Tonight? No. I can't."

"Tomorrow then? After work?"

"Well....."

"Come on. What else do you have to do after work? You'll go to your apartment and not emerge until the next morning. I don't have to spy on you to know that. Come to me, Jessica. Let's make life interesting."

"You have a point," she said, "my life could be more ...interesting."

* * * *

"You at least have seen a jail," Jessica said as she unbuttoned her blouse, her bra visible to Manny, "and that's an experience of a sort. It's you who could write about having been to jail for a crime you did not commit. I don't mind being the villain in the story."

"Villain you? A virgin? " Manny said, laughing.

"Ha ha funny. And that is an issue that can be remedied so easily."

They were in Manny's small home in Queens, across the street from the high school where he coached. His home was uninspired, and the only decorative touches where predictable for a bachelor like him- trophies he'd won, jerseys he hung on walls, picures of his Mexican family, pictures of the ranch he left behind in Arizona, pictures of football players he admired, teams he liked. On the night stand was a football.

You wouldn't be the villain," he said, "you're the love interest. ..mine."

Manny helped her take off the blouse. Fittingly, it was white. She was all in white. Her blouse, her heels, her little skirt. It was as if she was saying goodbye to wearing the symbol of virginity, which she had carried with her for too long. Now, she was going to give Manny this gif and she would not regret losing it. Manny was already nude, save for his black sweatpants. He had gone to the gym before meeting with Jessica. He removed her blouse completely and threw it over his shoulder, and it fell over the soft burgundy colored carpet. His bedroom was neat, which surprised her. But then again, he was no longer an adolescent living at home with his folks. He kept his place tidy. She hoped it was not because he had other girls in a line of lovers to bed in here. But she did not believe that. Manny had obscessed over her for long. Still, she wondered, but now could ask.

"When did you last - do this?" she said to him.

"The last time? Hm...Well, Jessica, you are pretty air-headed to ask that considering I've been to prison for years."

"I mean ...since you left jail."

"What a question, Jessica. Jealous already? You haven't lost your virginity yet to me."

"I'm not jealous. I'm just curious."

"No girl has been in this bed...till now...you. As a coach at that fucking school, I have had no interest in any girl. They're all too young for me and the other teachers are too old for me."

He laughed out loud.

"Oh, you're horrible. I love you," Jessica said, giggling.

They shared a kiss. It was prolonged, longer than their first kiss at the library. In many ways much more pleasant, because it was more natural, here in his bed. As he kissed her with more lingering slowness, hearing her moan under her breath, he began to remove her skirt, but not before having fun bunching it up over her thighs. His fingers grazed over her legs, touching, arousing her. He was impatient and then quickly removed her skirt. He then pushed her on her back, her head suddenly on a pillow.

"You're going too fast," she said.

"Well...I haven't ...in so long...so long..in jail all I could do was think about doing this."

"You have experience though, you make me feel very excited."

"Well..I hate to brag, but you know what a football star in high school ...does to a girl's libido..." he said, "I had girlfriends in high school. The one I was supposed to be with - you - I wasn't."

"But be careful. I'm new at this. It better be good. I write about sex and I've never experienced it. No one knows that. Still, I'm glad you're experienced. At least one of us should be good at it."




Manny Ch. 02



"Yeah. Now, less talk, baby. Come here."

He was over her, as if in a push-up position, but he was so big it felt like he was on top of her. His massive chest was in her face and their eyes locked. Jessica was a small thing beneath his huge bulk. He wanted to be careful and slow, because he knew she was still a virgin. God, it was all so frustrating. For both. He had not had a woman in a long time and she'd never had a man. Both were eager to get it done. Jessica closed her eyes.

"Nah, don't close them. You'll miss all the fun. You want it to be good don't you?"

She opened them and he leaned over her, bending down to kiss her. The softness of their former kissess was all gone now. Now their kisses were as restless and fierce as their hunger, their desire. He opened his mouth wide like he was devouring meat and he kissed her roughly. Jessica moaned, writhing beneath him now. She touched his chest and caressed it.

"How did you get so big, Manny?"

"Don't talk, baby. Just enjoy it. I can tell you all about it another time."

He was still wearing his sweatpants and he was as if trying to fuck her through her bra and panties. Jessica's hands were over his shoulders and then slid down to his buttocks, her hands caressing the material of his sweats. He was kissing down her neck now, making her feel tingly with pleasure, making her moan softly and cooing like a small bird.

"Mmmm... Manny."

"Yeah, that's it. From now on, the only words that ought to come out of you are those."

He got up from his push-up position and removed her bra with his teeth. Then he slowly, sensuously laved her nipples witht his tongue, kissing her breasts as if he had all the time in the world. The truth was they had very little time. She had expected to see Yleana at her apartment to tell her she'd found a photographer. And she had not found anyone. But this thought was brushed aside, like her panties in Manny's hands.

Now, nude, she sprawled herself on the bed, looking up at him with a glow on her face, a glow that could have passed for the golden sunset's light coming in through the window. She parted her legs and her hips were gyrating slowly, making Manny hard. He grunted and quickly removed his sweatpants, aided by Jessica's nimble hands. Then another kiss, a passionate one that was quick. She sucked in her breath and Manny began to kiss down her stomach, his hands still over her breasts, tugging at them, pinching them, rolling his fingers over them, making her wet and alive and responsive. She moaned, and even her own moans turned her on, for she had never truly moaned before. She realized Manny enjoyed that sound and he growled beneath his breath every time he heard her.

She did not close her eyes and she was further aroused by the sight of his big shoulders moving back and forth as if swimming in a marathon. His hard-on was huge and it made her quiver. She was wet and she was slowly getting ready for him. His hands were on her hips and he lifted her up a bit, urging her to put her legs over his waist. She did and she gripped his buttocks firmly. He groaned and he pushed his cock inside her. His cock was big enough, she thought, not monstrous like the rest of him, but wonderfull sized, a perfect fit, sliding easily inside of her wet pussy, slipping in and beginning the age-old rhythm of primal fucking.

She felt at that moment that she would die of the realization she had finally joined with the man she loved and in theh intimacy of a bedroom and with no reservations, no fears, no worriess. She felt good. This was what everyone raved about. Hot, hot sex, making the body feel as if this was the only thing the body ought do. It was so delicious, so good, so right. She caressed his big back and moaned louder, louder, her own cries mixing with his deeper, guttural cries. Then she felt herself being slid down the bed a bit and he was forcibly fucking her, without being able to restrain herself. He'd cum in minutes she knew. No need to feel that this was bad, she thought. He had not had this in a long time. And it was not as if he couldn't have her again.

"Aaahh, Jessica, Aaahh" he bellowed, his face contorting with pleasure, "Fuck. Never knew it would feel this good....fuck."

She realized Manny had learned to curse a lot in jail.

"Fuck," she said, thinking that it would arouse him futher.

He ravished her completely, making her cry out in pain and pleasure. Her hymen was broken, as it was destined to happen, and his hard, wonderful penis, the one she had always dreamed of, filled her up and made her scream out his name. She raked her nails down his back, kissed him, ran her hands down his sides and buttocks, moaned and writhed making her want to -

She got up and told him to let her get on top. He complied, still hard. It was therefore easy for here to ride him, to grind against him with her pussy. She moaned and her breasts bounced, pert breasts that Manny caressed as shes bounced over him. His cock went up inside her well. She had never done this before and though she had been hurt and had bled when he had fucked her and broken her in, she was in a sort of wild high, high on the orgasms. He, too, was cumming, more than once, and in many loads, spurting like fountain, like blood. She had no idea it would be so messy, yet so good. This was heaven. She knew know what she had been missing. Manny orgasmed, his body sweating profusely, their juices minling, their voices floating outside the window.

.......... ................

They had wanted a second time but Jessica told him all about Yleana, about the job. Manny listened intently, his hands caressing her behind as they spooned in bed. It was getting late and darkness began to set in. Jessica got up and began to dress herself. She stared at Manny who was still in bed, nude, grabbing a hold of the football on the nightstand and playing with it, making believe he was throwing it across a field.

"So you're coaching football?" she said to him.

"That's what I said," he replied, "nothing else I can really do. Football's my passion, like writing is yours."

She was pensive and silent for a while, as she finished dressing. She sauntered back to the bed and sat next to him, lightly caressing his broad, hairy chest.

"Manny, how would you like it if you worked for me?"

"How is that possible? Wouldn't it affect your career, your focus?"

"Despite how people frown upon relationships and work as one, I think I'd rather have you closer to me than across the bridge to Queens."

"And just what kind of position do you have in mind for me, Jessica?"

"Well. ..."

She thought about Yleana. Manny was not experienced in photography and surely it would be a mistake that Yleana would be sure to notice and become upset, but it might not be such a bad idea if she knew how to pull it off and help him through. Jessica felt that now that she had given herself to him, having lost her virginity to him, that she'd never want to let him go. Ylena looked like a vixen who always got a man once she wanted him, but she would keep an eye out. Manny was not to be shared with anyone.

"I told you about Yleana. She needs a photographer for several shoots."

"I don't know the fist thing about photography or the magazine biz."

"I'm hiring you at any rate. You'll learn fast. There's nothing to it. Say goodbye to coaching football and come work for me. The pay will be greater."

"Jessica, nothing will give me more pleasure than to be near you but I'm not sure this is the right thing to do."

"Time will tell," she said and kissed him on the forehead, "you can start next week. That'll give you time to get ready and leave the high school job. I'm sure you won't regret it in the least. I love you." 



Manny Ch. 03



Previously on Manny, Jessica lost her virginity to Manny, an old high school companion and ex-con. Although initially Manny sought revenge for having been wrongfully incarcerated, his love for Jessica was too strong and they became lovers. Manny has been working as a football coach in a high school but takes on a job as a photographer for Jessica's magazine, in the hopes that they'll spend more time together. The time is the late 1980's.

Manny was having an intense dream. In the dream, he had been drafted into the NFL and quickly became a star quarterback for the San Francisco 49'ers. This caused a big smile to appear on Manny's lips as he tossed and turned under his sheets, for he had only played as an offensive lineman in high school. Now, he was free to enjoy glory and praise, and the love of Jessica Abby who admired his accomplishment. 

As the dream went on, he saw himself winning the playoff games and finally providing the 49'ers with a victory in the Super Bowl game. The spectators who had come to see the exciting game of games at Candlestick Park Stadium in San Francisco had come and gone. Twilight had brought drizzle and the earth and green turf was wet beneath Manny's feet. Winds swept into the field, dramatic winds that howled banshee-like and echoed in the stadium. These were the well-known winds that came from the bay; and in the cool air of nightfall, the winds had brought Jessica, like a vision, to his arms.

They were locked in a tight embrace. Manny was still in his uniform, the signature red jersey and golden tights. His strong chest pressed hard against Jessica's perfect 34 c breasts and their kiss was the stuff romantic films were made of, long, passionate, emotional kisses. As their kisses deepened and intensified, the stadium night lights suddenly turned on by themselves and the drizzle turned everything silvery and dew-like. 

As Manny slipped his tongue into Jessica's mouth in a strong kiss, she felt his cock becoming hard in his tights, rubbing against her thighs and its big size made her feel weak and compliant. He rested his big hands on her back, caressing the small of her back and she had her hands wrapped gently around his neck, reaching up to him as she was shorter than he was. Their kisses became fiery and they were both aroused with passion, their hearts swelling with the prospect that they would make love right here in the football field and deservedly after Manny had earned his Super Bowl ring.

Feeling his sturdy muscular arms, like walls closing against her, her pussy became wet and her stomach, touching his, made her breathe harder and faster as if she was panting. Manny, too, was breathing hard and she could hear him grunting in a sudden rush of desire. They stared into one another's eyes and read in them the same need, the same longing. 

In slow motion, Manny lay her down on the football field on her back. She was wearing a tight white top that hugged her upper body and showcased her fine breasts and flat tummy; and a skirt that was rather short, like a skimpy cheerleader's skirt, showcasing her smooth, creamy white legs, legs which had always figured in his most erotic fantasies. 

Everything now had a hazy quality, and although the winds disappeared, the drizzle continued. Jessica's light brown, almost blonde hair, was wet and Manny's uniform was also wet, giving them a hot wet look that made them want each other even more.

It was as if they had an eternity ahead of them. Manny leaned down over her body and covered her in kisses. Very gingerly, he kissed her lips, wet cheeks, nose, eyelids and chin. Jessica responded instantly, feeling the warmth of his body on top of her, feeling his muscular arms against her own. She looked up and saw that he was in a push-up position. 

His head was bathed in the glow of the stadium lights. Even before they had kissed, he had taken off his helmet which lay on the field right next to them. Soon, the helmet had company as Manny removed his uniform and Jessica took off all her clothes. They were both in the nude now, their bodies warm and aroused and glowing beneath the lights. They began to kiss again, and Manny possessively mounted her, straddled her. With his hands he forced her legs apart, causing her to moan and writhe underneath him. 

Since this was a dream, there was no need for a condom. His hard, erect cock found its way inside her wetness, and her pussy squeezed his big cock inside her, making her throw her head back and wince in a mixture of pleasure and pain. He began to slide his cock inside her, in shallow thrusts at first, only the tip of his cock entering her pussy. Jessica panted and moaned, her physical response arousing him further. 

Teasing her, he slid his cock out of her pussy and rubbed it over her pussy lips in a circle. Then he slid his cock inside of her but not forcefully or deeply, as if to get her anxious and to ready her for harder penetrations yet to come. 

She accommodated his large cock inside her, wrapping her legs around him, grabbing on to his broad shoulders for dear life, wincing and moaning and becoming more and more ecstatic.

Neither of them said a word and all that came from them were moans, groans and grunts. It was like they were in some strangely familiar porn film, one about football players and a girl who fucks an entire football team. But he knew that it was more than the football athlete and cheerleader fantasy, it was a more romantic dream that was vivid and heart-felt. Manny had never been with a girl like Jessica. The dumb cheerleaders he had dated in high school were vain, self-absorbed and shallow, not caring for the real him, interested only in appearances and dating a high school jock. 

He knew now that the girl, the woman, for him was and had always been Jessica Abby. She was above him, like a goddess, brilliant of mind and beautiful of soul, her goodness rubbing off on his often bad boy ways. She gave herself to him with wanton abandon, crossing her legs over his own legs, raking her nail down his back as his thrusts increased in speed and force. Deep groans flew off his lips as his hips began to grind against her and he thrust forward, his back arched, his head moving up every time he thrust his cock into her. Faster, harder, deep thrusts. He arched his back and rammed his cock with pleasure into her wetness and she screamed out in a mix of pain and bliss.

Jessica threw her head back and her brown hair was in disarray over the field, her eyes falling over Manny's helmet and at times over head to the stadium seats and the lights. The drizzle had ended now and the winds began to pick up force. It was such a silent night that she swore she heard the ocean's roar over by the San Francisco Bay. She cried out and tears streamed down her cheeks. She laid her hands over his high, round, strong buttocks which moved beneath her hands as he fucked her. "Ouhhh, Jessica, uhhh" he roared, his orgasm building.

She felt herself exploding, her body was tender under his heavy weight and she climaxed with all the force that had been swelling inside her for long. Manny screamed out and his cum shot into her, making them both shiver and sigh. Their breathing became steadier and Manny embraced her, still laying on top of her, his cock still inside her...

* * * *

The ringing of the alarm clock on the side of his bed woke Manny up. The radio turned itself on automatically. A traffic report was announced by a woman's voice, along with a bit of news regarding an automobile accident involving an actor in a Woody Allen movie being filmed in the city. Still in "bed head" mode, Manny looked at the clock and saw that it was already eight in the morning. Damn, he thought, I'm going to be late. He knew he had overslept, on account of that terrific dream he had just had; but he was supposed to get to Manhattan to Jessica's "City Woman" publisher's office building. It was his first day on the job. Jessica would most likely think he was unfit for the job and incompetent if he arrived too late.

He shot a glance into the direction of a black and white, framed photo of Jessica Abby which stood on top of his night stand. How could he have cursed this wonderful woman while he was in jail? How could he have filled his heart with nasty revenge and thoughts of raping her? She was a female unlike any other in his life. 

In his past, he had only loved the wrong types of women, bad girls with no prospects and with no real warmth, kindness and intelligence. Jessica was above him, like a goddess, like a princess, and he felt unworthy of being her man. But she had given herself to him and given him the precious gift of her virginity and she loved him like no other woman had loved him. Already, he had given up his job as a football coach in a high school for her, for the chance to be near her, to spend more time with her. 

He knew, as she did, that in the chaotic, work-a-day, fast-paced, vast urban jungle that was New York City, they could very well lose one another, to other passions and pursuits, and to other people that could walk into their lives. She had asked him if he'd like to move into her Manhattan apartment, but he had opted to live in Queens for at least another month.

After he brushed his teeth, showered and shaved, he looked at himself in the mirror, a small, somewhat stained mirror in his bedroom and had no idea what he should wear for a job like this. Jessica was a real professional and "City Woman" was a successful magazine where top writers and photographers were employed. The whole profession had an air of yuppie respectability and this was foreign to Manny. He had never worn dress shirts, ties or business suits, except when his mother made him go to Sunday Mass back in Arizona. 

Putting on a white dressy shirt and dark slacks, he felt that there was no need to wear a blazer because it was pleasantly warm outside. He buckled himself with a belt and put on dress shoes. He had very short hair, made in a military style or "buzz cut" and therefore didn't have to comb his hair. 

He took a look at himself. He hardly recognized himself and did not much like the way he looked. For one thing, he was built so huge that the shirt looked like it could hardly contain his muscles and the slacks were a bit tight on him, showcasing his big, strong legs and buttocks. He felt he looked ridiculous, like he was in a costume. He knew he had no time to think about it, as he was already late......

* * * *

He drove a car that did not belong in the streets of the business district of Manhattan.

He adored his car, a navy blue pickup, but he quickly became conscious that pedestrians and other drivers, despite their rush, regarded his vehicle as low-brow, a truck that had come across the Queens Borough Bridge from the inner city to fashionable Manhattan. Maybe they assumed he was there to pick up cargo or unload packages. He parked his car on another street and had to walk a bit to get to the "City Woman" building. 

Men in business suits looked at him with brief disapproval as they hurried to cross the street and entered office buildings or restaurants. So this was Manhattan, Manny thought. 

As he took it all in, he felt like a total stranger in a strange land. But he marveled at the beautiful shops and the leisurely women in them, some decidedly single and in groups and some with children. Many of those gals looked far too young to be the children's mothers so he made the assumption that they were only the children's nannies. Everywhere he looked, there was a sense of wealth and formality.

As he drew closer to his destination, he stopped all of a sudden to take a good look at the imposing edifice. It was as tall as a skyscraper and he guessed that meant the publisher's offices were located on a higher floor and formed only a part of the big building. 

He walked in, opening the big glass doors and looked for the elevators. Inside, everyone hurried as if everything in there was in fast-forward motion. Even their chit-chat was brief. Men in large coats and women in dressy blouses and skirts moved about inside, coming off of elevators or entering them. When he spotted the elevator that would lead him to the floor where Jessica's offices were, he took notice of a striking woman. 

She was leggy and tall, with distinctly Spanish features. Manny could easily tell she was probably from Spain, perhaps Brazil, by her stunning beauty and her demeanor. She looked like she belonged in a place like this, or perhaps was married to some executive who worked in the building. She was not dressed in business wear. Her blouse was cut into a V shape and a hint of her pert breasts were in view. Her skirt was short, stylish and tight fitting. Her white heels echoed over the marble floor and the way she seemed to strut turned Manny on.

They walked into the elevator at the same time and they were the only ones in there. Manny kept her eyes on her and observed as she pressed the button, discovering that they were headed for the same floor. 

She had her hair cut very short, almost looking like a man's haircut. This did not diminish her beauty. Her hair was beautiful and glossy and Manny knew that this look was very fashionable nowadays. She turned to look at him and he was mesmerized by the intense glow in her eyes.

"Are you going into the "City Woman" offices, too?" he said to make conversation, even though he knew he had asked a dumb question.

"Yes, and I'm late," she replied, somewhat coldly, without looking at him.

"Yeah? That makes two of us then. I'm Manny Meza. I'm the new photographer." She was carrying a shoulder bag and a purse and he hadn't noticed it until now, as he was standing only inches from her. She dropped her purse all of a sudden, and the little purse opened up, a small clam-like item fell and Manny realized it was what she must have powdered her nose with or applied make up with. Acting quickly, he bent down to pick it up for her. The clam-like thing was open and through the mirror's reflection, which was facing up, Manny had a view of what was up her skirt. She was not wearing any panties and he had an eyeful of her smooth, hairless pussy. As he was doing this, she took a look at his round, firm buttocks; her eyes glistening with a rush of lust.

"Here you go, lady," he said to her, handing her the fallen item.

"Thanks."

They stared briefly at each other, grinning at one another, a secret and naughty undercurrent flowing between them. The doors to the elevator opened and they were directly in front of the glass doors to "City Woman". She resumed her ice princess façade and walked in there. Manny took a deep breath and followed her inside.

His eyes followed her and at the same time took in the ambiance. The office looked vast and he realized it must have occupied most of this particular floor of the building. 

Surrounding him was a busy atmosphere, and his ears were bombarded with the sounds of typing on small computers, printing jobs in progress, people talking on the phone or into head sets, and men and women walking hurriedly about. Manny observed the leggy woman walk with a regal air into a back room. When he walked further into the offices, he felt eyes on him and he turned to see that some people were staring at him like he had just walked into the wrong place or even the wrong part of town. 

Manny was quick to note that every other man was in full business suits and became self-conscious. He was only in a white dressy shirt with long sleeves and no tie. His slacks fit him too tightly, despite the belt he had on.

"May I help you?" said a young gal, conservatively garbed and looking at him with less discriminating eyes.

"Uhh, yeah, yeah, uh, I'm looking for Miss Jessica Abby. I'm Manny Meza the new photographer she hired," he said, and his eyes looked for Jessica.

"Oh, that's right," said the girl, as if she just remembered something, "she's in her office and having some coffee. I believe she's expecting you. I'm Marissa, her personal assistant."

She held out her hand and Manny shook her hand, trying not to do it too hard. She was a very petite girl and looked almost childish, despite her grown-up clothes. She had to look up at him because she was very short; he figured at least five feet tall.

"Follow me, please," she said......

In her office, Jessica was having coffee and talking with Vicki, her principal female photographer, and a thin man in glasses and a scarf, bald and most decidedly gay. The door to her office opened and Marissa walked in with Manny, who tried his best not to appear nervous. When Jessica saw him, her heart skipped a beat. She smiled faintly and their eyes met. She realized people could tell a lot from a single look so she quickly put on another face, one that was all business.

"What is it Marissa?" she said to her.

"Miss Abby, this is Mr. Meza, you're new photographer. Did you want to talk to him now?"

"Ah, yes," she said, "If you'll excuse me, I'd like to be alone with him for a moment. Alex, we'll have to come up with a title and new look for the magazine but I don't want to sacrifice quality and heart for commercial and "hot". I never followed the "New Wave" thing or MTV so I'm not about to give "City Woman" that kind of look or anything. We'll still have quality. Ok, we'll meet again in an hour."

Alex and Vicki walked out of the office, shutting the door behind them and leaving Manny and Jessica alone. As soon as the door was closed, Jessica smiled at Manny and walked over to him. Immediately, they embraced and kissed. 

The kiss lingered for a while and then she realized that the Venetian blinds were open a bit. Manny was puzzled by her behavior. She walked away from his arms and pulled down the blinds. She then straightened her hair and walked over to her desk. She had been breathing hard, as if she had been running and now she composed herself.

"I'm sorry, I just had to do that," she said to him, "I'm crazy about you and crazy about the fact you'll be working here."

"That's alright, Jess," Manny responded," I don't mind at all. Are we going to make out every time we are alone? Or maybe do more than make out?"

She smiled and giggled. Manny looked at her and wondered how this passionate, playful girl could also be the no nonsense editor of a magazine. Inside her office, everything reminded Manny that she was high above him. Copies of her published book "Canyon", with an artistic rendering of the Grand Canyon on the cover was on a shelf along with other short stories she had written. Medals, a diploma, certificates, Masters Degree, photographs of her hob-knobbing with New York's elite like the Governor, other influential writers and artists, were hung over the wall. 

This office was a shrine to her accomplishments and looked more like a sort of miniature Hall of Fame. Added to this was a collection of art prints, namely O'Keefe orchid paintings and Georges Seurat's "Sunday Afternoon On The Island Of La Grande Jatte". Her desk was mahogany and everything was bright reddish- brown woods. The chairs were rotating chairs and a low couch was next to a large table. The scent of spring was in the air and pink and red roses, daffodils and potted plants surrounded her desk area.

"No, I don't think we should," she said, "but I can't be too much of a goody two shoes so we'll have sex in my office at least once."

They both laughed, Jessica's soft laugh mingling with Manny's stronger laugh. Manny wondered suddenly in his happiness, if this would last. Could this wonderful, classy woman truly love him all her life or was he just a fling? Was high school enough of a bond between them or would he become a distant memory like high school was now. She sat down on her chair and finished her coffee.

"Sit down, silly," she said to him.

He sat down and felt, as he did so, that his pants were too tight. He straightened himself and tried not to look like he was uncomfortable. Jessica giggled a bit as she stared at him up and down.




Manny Ch. 03



"You're wearing the wrong clothes," she said to him, "but I'll dress you up if you want. I can buy some more appropriate clothes for you in your size."

"Oh, um...sure," he said, "you'd actually do that for me?"

"Well, not me but Marissa my assistant."

"Won't she find that pretty strange?"

"Hm. You're right. I'll have to do it myself. You know this would all be easier if you just moved in with me." Manny's fiery brown eyes were suddenly fixed on her. She really wanted him to be her live-in lover. Was she also afraid of losing him like he was afraid of losing her? Perhaps moving in would be the best thing to do. 

"I'm going to get my stuff ready and I can move into your place at the end of this week, if you'd like."

"That would be great. Now, Manny, pay attention. I'm going to teach you a few things right now so that you won't look like such a fish out of water. You, Alex and Vicki are about the only photographers working for me right now. I'm going to hire two more that are as good as them. Vicki's been a quality photographer for years. Alex -"

"The, uh, the gay guy?"

"How did you know he was gay?"

"I can tell."

"Yes, well Alex is one of the best and he photographs women like no other. If you're not going to have an issue working with a gay man, just pay close attention to him and he can help you out if you have any problems."

"Uh, Jessica, who exactly would I be photographing?"

"That is what I want to talk to you about. Her name's Yleana Decaos. She's from Sao Paolo, Brazil. She spent a lot of time in Spain and Europe and has signed a contract with City Woman. She will be in our calendar and she will be featured in a big article. She represents the empowered New York City ethnic woman, all class and beauty and plus she gives to charity. She's like our first celebrity."

The door opened and Yleana walked in, on time for her appointment. Jessica realized she had lost track of time talking to Manny. She told Yleana to take a seat next to Manny.

"Manny, this is Yleana," she said to him, "Yleana, meet your photographer."

Manny couldn't believe his eyes. This was the gorgeous but silent woman he had met in the elevator. What a pleasure it would be to photograph her! He tried not to look too excited as they shook hands. Jessica's eyes were still on him. But Yleana looked at him like he was a piece of man meat made especially for her.

* * * *

Manny was never late to work. He proved to be punctual and he quickly caught on to the New York business person's sense of go-go speediness. It felt as if everything in the business district was in constant, swift motion during the day. Even lunches were hurried affairs. In the offices of "City Woman" everyone just did their job as efficiently as possible and no one socialized with anyone. 

None of the people working for Jessica knew each other outside of work. Manny felt that this was an entirely different scene than the high school where he had been coaching. There, he had begun to bond with the other teachers, mainly the P.E. teachers and even some of the students. Here, he was just the new photographer and no one seemed to really acknowledge his existence. Everyone that is, except for Yleana Decaos.

She was by far the most glamorous figure in the office. "City Woman" was no fashion magazine. It was a woman's magazine whose editor was a feminist novelist. Its articles were on women's empowerment, advice on relationships and interviews with successful women. 

Everyone dressed conservatively but Yleana was an exotic super model and she carried herself with a higher degree of sex appeal. She dressed in decidedly provocative clothes; mostly tight skirts, low-cut blouses, sleeveless shirts and tops, short dresses, stockings and high heels. She was always very well manicured and pedicured, her hair always glossy and tidy, falling to the side of her neck in a long waterfall of hair like Old Hollywood actress Veronica Lake. She was as tall as Manny, but being a model her frame was light and she had a tighter body she took care of by working out at the gym religiously.

On the first day of the photo shoots for City Woman's first calendar, Manny realized Jessica had not spoken to him, not even to say "good morning" and was away in a meeting elsewhere in the office. Manny walked into the studio room set aside for photo shoots and found that Yleana was wearing nothing but a red bra and red thong panties. 

She was bending down, facing away from him and putting on what she was going to wear for the shoot; a long red fleece coat, a pretty white blouse and creamy, beige colored pants and this "winter" fashion ensemble was accessorized with a long scarf that was a darker shade of red than the bright apple-colored coat. Manny nearly couldn't breathe and felt a hardening of his crotch as he took in the view of her hot ass. It was perfect. It was high, proud and round, tight and looking heart-shaped. Her legs were to die for and she seemed unaware that he was there so she wiggled and writhed as she put on her clothes.

Manny cleared his throat to let her know he had entered the studio. She turned around to see him, her hair suddenly whipping out into the air. She had on just the right amount of lipstick and eye shadow. God she was gorgeous, he thought.

"Uh, Hi Yleana, you ready to do this thing?" he said, in a casual but cool tone, as if he did this sort of thing like it was bodily function.

It was his first time but he had practiced in Jessica's apartment, photographing her. Those photography lessons had been followed by an intense fucking and Jessica had pretended to be a super model. But now here was a real model in front of him, her delicious, fuckable body inches away from him. He put on a face mask of control. He hoped he wouldn't get a hard-on.

"Not quite ready," she said to him, her Brazilian accent like sexy music, "just give me one more minute."

"Should I - should I leave for a moment while you finish dressing?" Manny said to her beginning to head towards the door.

He figured it would be better to keep his eyes away from the semi-nudity he had just seen her in. But Yleana put out her hand in a stopping motion.

"It's ok, really, I'm almost done," she said.

As she put on her pants and blouse she seemed to be thinking about something and she looked at him now and then.

"You don't have to feel shy or embarrassed seeing me like this," she said to him, with a big smile, "you're a photographer and you can't tell me that you haven't seen super models putting on and taking off their clothes, right? Unless you're a different kind of photographer?"

"No, I photograph women like you," he lied.

"Then you're probably just nervous. This your first time working for a magazine like this?"

"Yeah."

"Yeah, I would have never signed that contract with Jessica but I've read her books and articles and although. I don't always agree with her point of view, I admire her independence and the fact she lives in this wonderful city. I wanted to be in New York City, in front of cameras and get my face out there you know. This is one way to do that."

She put on the stylish coat and scarf and immediately got into her super model mode. Her face became less casual and her expressions were more focused. She had a rather distant look in her eyes. She looked very beautiful and she knew just where to stand and how to pose as Manny took pictures, moving around her, getting closer to her, taking photos from various angles.

"Good, perfect," he said, "you're gorgeous."

It was not his wish to talk and compliment her but Alex used "gorgeous" a lot when he took photos and he was just doing the same to look more like a photographer. Manny became aroused, still thinking how she looked underneath the outfit in her sexy red underwear and bra. His mind wandered briefly for a bit as he continued to photograph Yleana. 

She was so incredibly sexy that he was certain that if Alex wasn't gay, he would most likely bang her. She looked like the kind of girl who enjoyed the company and attention of men. She was very sexual without being overt about it and she flirted in the smallest ways - with her eyes, with her smile, with her laughter and her few, carefully chosen words.

"Oh, Manny," she said, "you're a real pro."

* * * * Jessica was seated facing the rectangular, expensive rosewood table she had for her Conference Room, the largest room at City Woman Publishers. On the walls were covers of past issues of the magazine, various photos in black and white and color related to specific articles that were considered the best. She had called a meeting in the late morning right before lunch and her most important staff members were present. 

They were mostly women but Alex her principal photographer was seated right next to her as he usually did to her left. On her right was Mark Bennett, her assistant editor. The rest of the women were in charge of other aspects of the publication of the magazine and one girl, looking admiringly at Jess was her apprentice editor, a lucky young girl she had chosen based on university experience in journalism. Her name was Claudia and she came from LA having graduated from UCLA.

"This may sound absurd," Jessica said, "but I've called this meeting to discuss a new title for the magazine. As you're all aware by now, City Woman is undergoing a new look. The presence of super model Yleana Decaos should attest to that. My intentions are not to completely re-style City Woman but make a few changes. For one thing, I want to reach out to a broader appeal if we're going to survive into the 1990's. We all know we're getting competition left and right. It's Cosmopolitan mostly. How many of you here read or have ever read Cosmo?"

With the apprehension that Jess would criticize them, no one raised their hand or said anything. Jessica looked at Claudia who was seated in the back next to a red-haired young woman with short, almost manly looking hair.

"Claudia, surely you read Cosmo, how old are you twenty three, twenty four? Don't your girlfriends read that stuff?

"Actually yeah. Is that ok?"

"It's not only ok. It's necessary. I want all of you to pick up an issue of Cosmo and look at what they are writing about, look at the photos and over all style. I've looked at some issues myself and I don't always like that they have really unrealistically beautiful women whose looks are enhanced by camera tricks and airbrushing. The majority of women in New York and across America can't make themselves look like that even if they tried. It promotes unhealthy obsessions with looks and creates unrealistic expectations for women and influences the younger generations especially. There's no shame in looking average. Whatever happened to being more than just a pretty face? And they're all looking skinnier and more skeletal every year-"

"If you don't mind my asking, Miss Abby," said Mark, "why did you bring in Miss Yleana Decaos to pose for a calendar then? Isn't she like those Cosmo models and wouldn't we be doing the same thing?"

She looked at him as if she had wanted him to say that and she looked at him with silent approval. Jessica loved it when people spoke their minds and made opinions. She had been to New York University and at the time, she had immersed herself in an ambiance of free thought. She stared at him. Mark Bennett was a rather stout guy, not fat, just carried a little extra weight and dressed like a business executive and his hair was dark brown and always slicked back Jessica felt that he looked like a 1940's gumshoe, especially on the days he wore suspender-slacks and white or silver dressy shirts he rolled up to his elbows.

"I'm glad you point it out, Mark," she said to him, "I'm not emulating Cosmo just because I've decided to make a calendar. It's purely progressive and experimental. If the readers like it, we'll go on to make more calendars but we won't use models like Yleana. We'll most likely feature great photographs we can find of famous women who have contributed to the feminist movement as well as Civil Rights and we'll have quotes. Rosa Parks, Mother Teresa, Princess Diana -"

"Simone De Beauvoir," said Alex.

"Good one, Alex. So yes, let's talk about the new look over various meetings. But right now what bugs me is the fact we haven't come up with a new name. "City Woman" is too generic and has limited appeal. Let's suppose a woman in upstate New York, in the countryside, reads the book and feels that it's not for her just because we have mostly focused on urbane women, career women in the city. What about the woman in a desert town in Nevada or in a small town in Kansas who loves the magazine but feels she'll never be like these city professional women? People, we need to think about all our female readers, not just the few who have long supported our magazine. Ok, let's take a break and we'll come back to discuss among other things next month's issue. It feels like it's been a long morning."

Everyone got up and Alex walked up to Jessica who put away some papers in a folder and filed it away in a drawer. He did not ask her what these papers were but he was certain they were drafts of articles her apprentice was working on.

"I'm so tired," she said looking at him and putting a slender arm to her back, "I think it's because I hardly slept last night."

Her mind returned to the previous night when Manny had fucked her good.

"So much ahead of us still, but right now what do you think? Should we work on something you and me while we have Chinese? What do you think?"

"No work, please," Alex said laughing, "I think it's lunch time."

* * * *

Time flew. Manny had taken dozens of photographs which the folks at the magazine surveyed and looked over until they found the most suited for the January to May months, which is all Manny and Yleana had covered so far. 

For the month of February, Jessica came up with an idea for a shoot that was almost worthy of Playboy. Everyone felt she was thinking more commercially now and that she would surely do better this way. Yleana posed in the nude but in a discreetly soft-core manner. She was covered in rose petals, red ribbons and cut-outs of hearts for the Valentines Day look. Her long legs were showcased, her arms, a little of her breasts and her pussy was discreetly covered up by roses. She lay on her back and had a somewhat orgasmic look in her face, though far more relaxed. 

Manny had to control his breathing taking those photos, especially when he had to stand directly over her, almost on top of her for close ups, just inches away from her hot pussy and legs. She would smile at him and laugh, as if she knew she was turning him on, as if she knew that no matter how hard he tried to conceal his arousal, she was keenly aware that he was getting hot and bothered.

For the summer months, Yleana posed in bikini shots only. She wore a dark orange, very California beach one-piece bikini for June, a two piece pink bikini for July and another one-piece, this time a more provocative Brazilian bikini for August. It was the breaking point for Manny. Her ass, her breasts and her curves, that tight bikini, all of it was enough to drive him over the edge. He excused himself after the shoot and went into a janitor's closet to jerk off. He didn't notice, however, that Yleana had followed him and she walked into the room behind him. He had his back to her and as he was facing the far end of the room he didn't take any notice of her. 

The room was pretty big as it was used for storage and it had been a while since anyone cleaned the place up. Mops, brooms, waste baskets, and old camera equipment gave the place a dirty look and a dusty look. An unpleasant musk was in the air. Manny unbuckled and slid down his pants. He had on boxers which he quickly slid off. His hands reached for his own cock and he began to stroke the shaft, cupping it in his hand as he began to fiercely move his hand up and down in his masturbatory movement. He grunted and moaned as he did this. Yleana was evidently turned on, especially because she knew she had brought this on. It made her feel terrific to know she was filling his erotic fantasies and that she was making him hard. She was wearing a black robe that had Japanese style flowers that belonged in a kimono. Underneath her robe were thong panties and a bra. She laughed all of a sudden, making Manny freeze suddenly.

"Ah, fuck," he said, surprised, staring at Yleana who now opened her robe, flashing her undergarments.

"Mind if I join you, Manny?" she said in a deep, seductive tone.

"Oh God...Yleana..." he uttered very nervously, "Yleana please get out of here. I'm sorry. I'm really sorry."

"No need to feel sorry," she said, smiling, "you don't need to apologize for doing something perfectly natural and something which is healthy for men to do anyways. It's ok. If you're worried that you'll get in trouble, you won't. I won't tell anyone." "You gotta leave; someone might have seen you come in here with me. What if Jessica -"

"Jessica is your boss and mine for the time being, but she doesn't boss me around. I certainly don't care to be bossed around. Look, it's ok. If we're careful, we can fool around and no one has to know."

"O Jesus, Yleana, I -"

"You don't want me?" 

When she said this, she moved closer to him and she gently put her hand on his cock, which was still hard. She looked down and her eyes widened as she saw how well- endowed and big his cock was. She licked her lips. She was about to stroke his cock but he stopped her.

"I can't do this. We gotta get out of here."

"Where? My place? I left my address in your shoulder bag where you keep your equipment."

"I can't, Yleana. Jessica -"

"She's not your girlfriend, or is she?"

Manny was briefly silent. If she knew that he and Jess were involved, she could expose Jessica and that would ruin her. She had worked too hard to get where she was and if people knew she was with her own photographer, having an office romance or fling if people thought it was that, it would cost her dearly. 

And for all he knew, this Yleana could be plotting to destroy Jessica. She looked like she was trouble and loved toying with men. Only because he had not enjoyed women's attentions and advances in a long time, having been in prison for most of his early twenties he was tempted by this gorgeous woman, even if she looked like trouble.

"No, she's not my girl," he lied, "but she is my boss and if I carry on an affair with you -"

"She'll what? Fire you? I've seen you Manny. You don't look like you belong here. You probably don't even want to work here. You wouldn't really mind leaving this job. Come on. You know you want me."

She was in his face and she pushed her breasts to his chest. Both hands were now on his dick. Manny pulled away. Quickly, he put his boxers back on and his pants.

"I'm leaving; I can't do this with you. I'm only supposed to take photographs of you and that's all there is between us."

He left the storage room and shut the door. Yleana flashed a devilish smile.

"Oh, there'll be more between us when I'm through with you," she said to herself.

As soon as he had left Yleana behind, Manny walked into the direction of Jessica's office. He wanted to tell her that he wanted to quit. That this was not working out. He wanted to go back to coaching football where he would be away from Yleana. 

Already, she had cast a magical, sexual spell over him; she had seductively and in subtle fashion bound him in sensual chains. To break free, he had to stay as far away from her as possible. He couldn't cheat on Jessica, the woman who loved him like no other, who had been good to him, the woman he had went to prison for, the woman who made him a better man.

He walked in quickly, not even knocking and he saw that she had a gathering of people in her office. There was Claudia her young assistant editor whom Manny suddenly realized she looked a lot like actress Molly Ringwald who was hot at the time. Next to her was Alex and next to him was Mark. These were her most prominent staff members. Jessica looked up from her desk and was surprised to see Manny. She had expected to see him at the end of the day before he left. It was the only time they could talk at work without arousing any suspicions to others passing by. "Is something wrong, Mr. Meza?" she said.




Manny Ch. 03



She never called him Manny in front of everyone, taking on a formal tone with him to further conceal their love.

"O, Jeesh, I had no idea you were in a meeting," he said,

"I'm sorry. I only wanted to talk to you. I'll come back later."

"No, please stay for a bit. Maybe you can help us," Jessica said, offering him a seat, "You see we've been practically breaking our skulls coming up with a great name for the magazine. Starting next month, it won't be called "City Woman" anymore. So please, sit down and maybe you can come up with something. I value all members here." "Yes, ma'am," Manny said and took a seat.

It was like a bolt of lightning hit Jessica and her eyes glistened beautifully. She laughed a bit and everyone liked that she was in a sudden good mood. She had gone through a migraine for not coming up with a name for the magazine and she had been cross all day.

"Manny, you're a genius," she said, "that's what we'll call our magazine - "Yes Ma'am". Yes Ma'am magazine. Has a catchy ring. It will really spark interest, especially for its feminist connotations."

* * * *

Jessica's hiring of Manny, ex-con turned football coach was initially a real problem. She feared that somehow someone would dig up info on him and discover he was no professional photographer. She realized that she was surrounded by unseen enemies and rivals, mostly women, who envied her for her position and success and who did not find her feminist leanings to their liking. She was an empowered woman, living independently in New York City and she was beautiful to boot. 

Not everyone liked taking orders from a woman, and especially not from Little Miss Jessica Abby, who had been an average girl from Nowhere, Arizona and who had a tendency to be preachy, showed off her intellect and let everyone know what she thought of them. She knew that someone could easily turn things around and cause her demise. That someone, be it man or woman, could discover that not only had she hired an ex-con to work for her magazine, but she was in a relationship with him. Careers were fragile things and one indiscretion could ruin her. 

Jessica knew that should the truth come out about her and Manny, not to mention the fact that she had been responsible for his wrongful incarceration after a car accident and a death that she caused, she would be labeled a bad person and unfit to run a magazine. The women of New York City saw her as a champion of women's rights, as a chaste woman (until she came in contact with Manny she had been a virgin), a good woman with probably no skeletons in her closet. No woman would want to read her magazine if they learned she had caused a murder.

* * * *

Every night, Manny crossed the bridge and came to Jessica's apartment in Manhattan.

There they would undress as soon as he arrived and they would fuck like there was no tomorrow. Since she lost her virginity, Jessica could think of nothing but to please Manny sexually and to hold him, feel his biceps against her, feel his growing manhood in her hand, against her thighs and in her mouth. She craved his touch, his tongue, his kisses, his hot mouth covering hers and she longed to be one with him and to experience the wonderful new sensation she had long been denied - the orgasm. 

Manny loved to give her maximum pleasure and to send her into an orgasmic ecstasy over and over again. He introduced her to every imaginable position but they found that because he was built much bigger than she, the most satisfying of all positions was her on top in reverse missionary position. Manny loved this position, too, but to add variety they would take turns and he would be on top of her for a while before she would mount him and ride him like a horse. 

When he was on top, he made sure that his big cock did not hurt her and that she was comfortably curled up, legs locked over his and hanging on to him like her life depended on it. He would carefully straddle her so that not all of his weight was on top of her and Jessica found the most delicious variation on missionary was having her legs over his shoulders. He was not on top of her for that and she loved how his cock slid into her more deeply that way. Soon, there was no nook and cranny in her Manhattan apartment where they had not made love. 

They did it in the bathroom where they often showered together or did it in the bath tub, they did it in the kitchen over the sink and over the counters of drawers, they did it on the carpet in the living room and dared to even do it on the balcony just outside her bedroom at four in the morning with practically no people about and only the silent night surrounding them.

One night, basking in the glow of their lovemaking in Jessica's bed, Manny suddenly lit up a cigarette, something which he had never done after sex. This surprised Jessica. She had never seen him smoke in her presence. He puffed away on hic cigarette, a small cloud filling the air in her bedroom and Jessica gave him a look of disapproval. Manny was quick to notice.

"Oh, Jeesh, sorry, Jess," he said, feeling guilty, "I didn't think you'd mind."

"Have you always been a smoker?" she said," Did you smoke in high school?"

"No. I took up smoking while I was in prison. I've been trying to quit. Don't worry; I won't smoke in the office or after a photo shoot or anything."

"I'd rather you don't smoke at all, and please not in here after we make love."

"Alright, Jess. I'd kiss you but I just smoked so you know -"

He laughed, trying to make her laugh, too but she was looking pensively in another direction. She turned to face Manny.

"Are you happy at "City Woman"?" she said, as if it was something she wanted to get off her chest.

"Sure. Although -"

"What?"

"I really miss coaching football. It's a pleasure and its work in one. You know the only reason I took up the job at your office is to near you."

"I'm glad you didn't refuse my offer but I don't want you to be in any way unhappy. Tell you what, why don't you coach football anyways and come work for me in the evenings. I can have the offices open for some extra hours and maybe it will just be you and Yleana working together before closing."

Manny didn't respond and now he looked into another direction. The window in the bedroom was slightly ajar and a soft breeze caressed their upper bodies. The rest of them were under the soft sheets. 

He looked out into the street and mentally traced a path from Jessica's street in Manhattan to another street where Yleana lived. 

He was tempted. By God, he was tempted by that gorgeous Brazilian lady who had a body like no other woman he knew. Even Jessica paled in comparison. Whereas Yleana was statuesque and goddess-like, Jessica was a petite little beauty, quite pretty but never able to command the attention of males or exude feverish sexuality the way Yleana could. 

He had kept Yleana's phone number and had it over his nightstand back in his apartment across the bride from Manhattan. He imagined Yleana in sexy lingerie waiting for him to show up at her door and waiting for him to lay down with her on her bed. There were many a time he felt he would do just that but he would look at Jessica's black and white photograph next to his alarm clock and he would feel guilt and shame. 

"Ah, you know, Jess, I don't know about working nights," he said.

But you'll get to coach football like you want to during the day," she said to him, "please, Manny. It's really a good idea and I was only thinking of you. Besides, at night I'm going to be busy with work I'll be doing from home."

"Really? So no more us time in your apartment when it gets dark?"

"Oh, well, I thought about that. We'll just have to fuck in my office or anywhere else that's out of the way where no one will find us. We'll have at least two quickies during the day. As for longer sex, well, that's what weekends are for."

She laughed that sweet laugh Manny loved. She was like a child-woman, a pretty naive girl that despite being editor-in-chief lacked adult experience. It was only a little while back that she had been a virgin. She now clung to Manny like a magnet. She smiled at him and laid her head on his broad chest. Manny put out the cigarette, casually throwing it out the window. He sighed heavily and caressed Jessica's very light brown hair like he was petting a cat.

"Alright, I'll do it," he said to her.

Please, lead me not into temptation, he thought and he swore he could see Yleana's eyes in mid-air in the dark looking at him, wanting him, her sexuality coming between what he had with Jessica...