Sleeping over Mikey’s meant an evening leafing through pornos, beating the crap out of each other on the Playstation, and watching horror movies on DVD. Where he got his stash of nudie mags, I never knew, but there was always one or two new titles in his collection he wanted to show me when I stopped by. Playboy, Hustler, Jugs…he had them all. I feigned interest in them to avoid suspicion, but to be honest I spent more time reading the short stories in Playboy than drooling over the models. I had a small magazine pile of my own, hidden way back under my bed where not even my mother would find it, dog-eared copies of Freshman and Unzipped I had bought off eBay and kept to myself. None of the men between the pages compared to Mr. Pierce, though. I’d jerk off to the pictures imagining his fac
