man-meat

When the rash hunter came to see whether the bait had been touched, the lion sprang on him, preferring fresh man-meat to the bait inside the trap .

Tonya let her eyes return to the man-meat across the room. She tried to remember his name. Something foreign. Andre. No, Vincente. The guy had his own car repair shop. He looked like Ricky Martin.

Athletic hunk ready to put my manmeat to work on you.