<div class="floatleft">(https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/236x/90/4a/21/904a21c068bd45efddfcbe05a853419c.jpg)</div><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 10pt;"><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: times new roman;"><em>His touch was toxic, hogtying her better senses and his words were like little drops of ecstasy. <br/><br/>She felt trapped. Her lungs demanded air, but she found herself unable to supply any. Her feet begged for relief, knees set to buckle and yet she couldn't let them, He had asked - whispered, really - her not to. <br/><br/>Breathless, against the bathroom door, staring into eyes that gleamed with predatory intent, she heard her husband knocking on the other side. "Honey, is everything okay?"<br/><br/>"I'll j-just be.. ah.. ah.. Jesus..." she stammered feeling herself being filled by another man. "Ohh God, gimme a few more minutes, please!"</em><br/></span><br/></span>Cal Rayner put down the manuscript with a smile no less torrid than the man he was reading about must have wielded.to make the President's wife break from her vows. The narrative was, clearly, powerful. It will linger in the reader's mind, cropping up when their mind wandered at work and trigger their appetite for more. Some will vilify the graphic nature of the content and, of course, unwittingly contribute to its record-breaking sales. The majority, he hoped, would be left gasping for the sequel.<br/><br/>He took out his phone and dialled the author. "Diana, It's Cal. I've just started reading the new chapters and I have to say you've outdone yourself. Yes, oh yes, Please feel free to highlight all things taboo, yeah? Let him seduce the damn nuclear codes off of her if he needs to.<br/><br/>"Anyway, I'll have a focus group take a gander and let you know how things go. I'm glad you've let go of your inhibitions, love. Have fun writing more. By now, and oh, welcome to Fucking Books."<div class="floatright">(https://2b68af77a0-custmedia.vresp.com/842e9051e8/Google%20HQ%204%202.jpg)</div><br/><br/>He clicked the phone off and set it aside on his desk, which was the only piece of furniture in the room. It will become a corner office in a building that will look quite imposing but for now it was filled with less than the bare essentials. Cal could imagine the bustle, the non-stop chatter, the yelps of triumph and curses of agony. He felt proud to be heading something he believed in even if it was to do battle against convention itself. After all, smut, and the broadcast of it, has no place in this world, except in the minds of every living being every second of the day. If porn could turn a profit, so could he.<br/><br/>But several things needed to go right and to make sure they did, he needed to visit his team again and check in on their progress. Last he heard, they had found a new young writer.