I need air, need to get fuck outa’ this effin’ store before I get my ass hauled outa’ here by security. I move quickly past the racks and the counters, up the escalator, through the main floor. I push through the revolving door, leaving Filene's behind me, and step back into the furnace of downtown Boston. The sun's high overhead now, turning the concrete into a goddamn griddle. The heat rising from the pavement matches t...

Wake up hard as hell, my dick tenting the bed sheet like it's trying to pitch a friggin' camp. I peel off the sheet, strip of the PJs, and stare at the ceiling. It’s not even 10, and my room's already an effin’ oven, the damp August heat pressing down on me like a horny priest. An old table fan just pushes the hot air around and fills the room with a static hum. Everyone’s gone off to their 9-to-5, got the place to myself...

The sun was a fuckin’ blast furnace, beating down on the grassy bank of the Charles. I was splayed out on my towel, soaking up the rays like a lizard, trying to ignore the trickle of sweat rolling down my spine. I was wearing a new Euro bikini - you know, one of those tiny fuckers that barely covers your dick and leaves a lot of your ass cheeks out for the world to see. I'd seen them on Italian porn flicks, and fuck it, I...