Excerpt:
The second photo was of a woman we refer to as Maxine. We know that's not her real name. She's an investment banker, or a state senator, or something. We'd really rather not know.
Maxine grew up in the Midwest "a state that starts with 'I'" she told us once, laughing. She discovered she was a pervert, as she puts it, when she was baby sitting. Like many randy, curious young women, she would sometimes snoop around for racy entertainment after the tykes were down for the night, and in one of her customer's homes she found the mother lode, a cache of erotica that literally changed her life.
This was before everyone had a VCR, when a lot of hardcore and fetish porn was still in magazines, and anything you could find at a regular newsstand was pretty tame. Before she found Mr. Martin's collection, the most extreme thing Maxine had stumbled on was a small stack of Penthouse magazines. The naked men and women therein made her feel tingly and naughty. But Mr. Martin had a large collection of bondage magazines, and that was something else again.
She described them, and their effect on her, to us one night over dinner, very early in our friendship. She flushed and her voice got husky.
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