Smart wrote a new prescription. Sam reflected on the session and concluded that he would take Dr. Smart’s advice. He would sit down and clearly expl...in to Janet what was going on with him and what it was like to suffer from this illness. Sam called Janet when he returned home. ‘What do you want, Sam?’ ‘Hello Janet. We need to talk.’ ‘We can talk over the phone.’ ‘I would rather see you face to face.’ ‘Have you moved off the couch yet?’ ‘Yes. I saw Dr. Smart.’ ‘Good. At least you’re doing. The guy kept his eyes closed, slowly rocking back and forth. Every once and a while, he’d throw his head back and moan.Beside them, another threesome was happening. It was the brunette, bouncing on a big cock, as she sucked off another dude. He was clearly about to leave because he was already dressed. His underwear was above his knees, his pants down at his ankles. He pulled his shirt up, showing off his body to the girl as she licked and sucked on his engorged dick.The other guys just watched. That was all he could do.The next building was a squat, dirty green two-story with grimy windows and a smell half-way between second-hand semen and a spilled bottle of cheap perfume, the sort someone might use to disguise a cesspool.Two or three Mexican women with furtive eyes were stringing fresh-washed sheets on a line.The taxista went up to one of them and asked if this was La Casa de Los Angeles."Si." The woman, swarthy with the high cheekbones that revealed much Indian blood, walked away. Upon the clergy’s order, we obey, our tongues go inTo each other’s open mouth, drooling, pure ring gag sin.Our collars attached, a hood shared, a great storeOf bondage and fetish added, linking you to me, Faith No More.?As I finishthe tale, I finish my taskOf donning all latex, of zipping up my mask.So many, too many, the layers are so tight,My body a shiny shadow; Faith out of sight.Not my eyes, not a hair, not my skin, not a pore,Nor the dildo vibingme, deep inside Faith No More.As I cry, as.