I saw her step out of the door at the far end.

When the door opened, I started down the hall. I parked my car nearby, followed her instructions. My heart pounded as I made that call, and the girl who answered told me I was within a block of the building, and how to get “buzzed” in. I was to call from a pay phone near the “clinic” and I would be given directions from there. I made my call from a pay phone at the Convention Center, and was told I could come in at one o’clock. Saturday had dawned a miserable, rainy day, and I can’t think of any place that can be as miserable as Los Angeles in the rain. I could pick up a rental car, have my enema, and then make my trip to Perris to visit the Orange Empire Railroad Museum on Sunday for their fall open house. The ad had read, “GENTLE ENEMAS, Exotic, Erotic Enemas in a fully equipped, very relaxed, private setting by an experienced fantasy nurse with a wild collection of naughty toys.” So I called, it was a Saturday, and I would be off the convention floor by noon.

Sherema was long gone, and I hadn’t been aware of the L. It had been 6 years since I had been given an enema in L.A.

Valerie was waiting at the other end of the long hall in the white stucco building, not far from downtown Los Angeles.

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