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God knows why I started reading porn. Well I mean his particular porn. But I did, and I kept reading it. I read everything he had written then tried other authors but they didn’t touch me the way he did. I reread everything I could find by him and felt an exhilaration I’d never known before. Could a writer really do this to me? The answer of course was yes, there were many examples of this as the wonderful quote: “The pen is mightier than the sword” exemplifies. But pornography?

Here I was almost twenty-seven with a decent enough job as Administrative Assistant to the Director at a renowned medical facility in Manhattan. I was very good at my job and both my superiors and peers knew it. Physically speaking, I’m tall, with what I think is a nice body except for the fact that my left breast is almost a cup size larger than my right. And while the few men I’ve let touch them hardly seemed to notice, I remain very self-conscious about it. On the other hand, I fill out the standard black cocktail dress as well as the next girl, as long as she’s not Brooklyn Decker, or one of her peers.

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