The night was suffocatingly hot, the air a wall of humid lust. I was ready for the heat. I followed some half-starved hustlers through the alleys of downtown, until we reached a world of Palm-Sweating Passion; Miami’s hung hunks. I nearly gasped as I saw them, dark-eyed, toned and tanned and wearing nothing but animal-skin loincloths. I felt my entire body yearn for them.