(sic)

Three male models, and I, on South Beach, Miami Florida. The shoot was over, and while we waited for our car service, we'd taken to the water. A quick dip we had, and walked up the beach. The sand was dry and soft and hot.

(Verbatim:)

'Wanna get me some before I go home to the old lady,' said the veteran model.
'Fat girls,' he said, 'you can push on their tummies and they fart. They always want it.'
'What about the pidgeons of Milan?' asked the young model with a heavy brow that hid his eyes.
'Oh yeah, they were nuts,' said Veteran, 'I’d give my lil bro the bb gun, he’d shoot four of em, somebody’d call the cops, and I’d be like, it’s my ten year old brother, and the cops would leave em alone.' He shook his head.
'But the pidgeons of Milan,' he said.
We came to the gate at the hotel. Rinsed our feet at the spigot.
'Oh yeah,' said the old one, 'Like, I saw a bunch of em, crowded around this dead one. they were fucking it.'

'Huh?'

The old one nodded, 'Yeah, they were fucking it. All of em, like a gangbang. One after the other, fucking it. And it was dead.'
The youngest model, and a booger stretched from his nostril to his lip, said, 'Sounds like you were getting a little amused!'

They could not think of the word he meant. We carried on, up the steps, where a nodding valet stood by our luggage.
The old model shrugged, 'And they have nipples. Pidgeons got little titties. Really, look it up.'

(these guys are real.)