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
imag
