Raw, physical, and unapologetically masculine, After School gathers stories where desire erupts from tension, proximity, and the quiet force of attraction between real men. These are tales of encounters born from friction—on building sites, in locker rooms, after class—where a glance or a gesture can tip everything. There’s no romance here. Just heat. Bodies. Hunger. And the weight of what’s left unsaid.
The title story captures an afternoon soaked in sun and tension. Two young men, longtime neighbors, meet by the pool. One invites. The other accepts. Laughter, water, skin. A moment too long in a gaze, a touch that lingers too deliberately, the clumsy graze of a bulge. The heat outside builds—but what’s simmering between them is hotter still.
They move inside. Shorts sticking to wet thighs. Hard stares. A cock, rising under thin cotton, pulling eyes like gravity. One strips. Dives. The other hesitates. But not for long. Their bodies meet underwater—then on steps, then against warm stone, against breath, against need. Every thrust, every lick, every moan is a refusal to lie about what they want.
In the stifling heat of the pump-house, with chlorine in the air and sweat mixing with poolwater, the lines blur: friendship, dominance, lust. He moans like a beast, the handle in him, a tongue on his slit, and a hand pulling harder with each tremor. It’s not about love. It’s about knowing how far the body will go when you let it.
García writes like a man who knows men—how they move, how they touch, how they want. After School is a tribute to the brutal elegance of masculine desire. Close the book if you want tenderness. But if you crave the sharp snap of raw heat, you’ve come to the right place.
