A Symphony unto Oneself

Chapter 2

The Story The Authors

"Yes, yes, yes." sighed Stevie. "It's almost time for your next visitor anyway." She took Jake by the hand and they flew out the window again towards Jake's present house. "So what have you learned so far?" Stevie asked. "Not a goddamn thing! I really have no idea what the point of all this is!" Jake answered. Stevie shook her head in disappointment. "Looks like it's going to be a long night for you, Jake." Soon Jake was settled back in his own bed, in his own house, in his own time. When Stevie was safely gone, he wacked himself to sleep. But it wasn't long before the room was filled with a bright red light that woke Jake from his fitful sleep. Held his hand up against the light, squinting to try to see who was there. "Sorry, is it too bright?" said a male voice with an english accent. "Is that better?" he said and the light dimmed to low red glow. "Yes," Jake lowered his hand and got a good look at the ghost. This time the ghost looked remarkably like George Michael. "You look remarkably like George Michael." Jake said. "Yes, yes," the ghost said, rolling his eyes impatiently. "Everybody says that. Well, I am the ghost of masturbation present. Are you ready to go?" "Do I have a choice?" Jake asked. "Not really." the ghost answered, grabbing Jake's hand and once again he was flying over his neighborhood. But this time he could see into people's windows as they flew by which proved to be very distracting. cuddles

Jake was certainly in need of some kind of distraction. His perfunctory hand jive had not really abated his intense sexual needs and it felt rather odd and embarassing to be flying through the night sky holding George Michael's hand whilst maintaining another raging erection. He took comfort at least in knowing that George of all people would understand his dilema. they flew onward and upward dodging the occasional chimney and TV antenna that took on an even more ominous phallic signifigance under the circumstances. The night air was chilly and Jake shivered a bit. George said not a word but pulled him on with a grim determination. Jake at last felt the need to speak. "Um...George... uh, can I ask you one question....?" George's grip on his hand tightened into a vice and he "It's part of my community service." he hissed and fell silent again. "Oh" replied Jake. "I see." Before he could say anything more they had arrived at their destination, The Broadway Nightlife Adult Bookstore. With a whoosh George Michael swooped them down and into the open door. Jake's cheeks burned with shame. This was one of his secret haunts in times of need. It was dark dingy and conveniently on the other side of town from all his other haunts so that the likely hood of someone recognizing him was slim. Well, anyone but the disinterested night clerk who knew him vaguely as Mark when he'd get change for the video booths. It was a rather busy night in there. All along the fringes of the store lurked disheveled men avoiding each others furtive glances as they pawed through stacks of "Big Black Butts" and "Over Fifty" magazines. Others coughed slightly as they sidled anxiously out and away from the peep show booths in the back. George's vice-like grip had not let up as he dragged the nervous Jake past a three hundred pound man in dirty sweat clothes who smelled of Listerine and onions. The enormous man was breathing heavily through his nose and twisting a copy of "Teenage Student Enema Nurses" brutally in it's plastic shrinkwrap to get a better view of the front cover action. He didn't look up. Jake's agitation grew. Over in the next aisle he thought he saw one of his Iron Sausage Engineering teacher's aides pondering a shelf of electro-anal torture videos with the dignified demeanor of a judge at a hog show. If Roger Weaver saw him here he'd never live it down. George seemed nonplussed by it all. They stopped in front of a large glass displaycase. "Ok George" stammered Jake, "we're here and I'm about to be mortified. Just what have you brought me here to see?" With nary a glint of mischief in his luminous blue eyes the former Wham! front man merely pointed to the glass case. "That." Lanark

The Story	The Authors
"Yes, yes, yes." sighed Stevie. "It's almost time for your next visitor anyway." She took Jake by the hand and they flew out the window again towards Jake's present house. "So what have you learned so far?" Stevie asked. "Not a goddamn thing! I really have no idea what the point of all this is!" Jake answered. Stevie shook her head in disappointment. "Looks like it's going to be a long night for you, Jake." Soon Jake was settled back in his own bed, in his own house, in his own time. When Stevie was safely gone, he wacked himself to sleep. But it wasn't long before the room was filled with a bright red light that woke Jake from his fitful sleep. Held his hand up against the light, squinting to try to see who was there. "Sorry, is it too bright?" said a male voice with an english accent. "Is that better?" he said and the light dimmed to low red glow. "Yes," Jake lowered his hand and got a good look at the ghost. This time the ghost looked remarkably like George Michael. "You look remarkably like George Michael." Jake said. "Yes, yes," the ghost said, rolling his eyes impatiently. "Everybody says that. Well, I am the ghost of masturbation present. Are you ready to go?" "Do I have a choice?" Jake asked. "Not really." the ghost answered, grabbing Jake's hand and once again he was flying over his neighborhood. But this time he could see into people's windows as they flew by which proved to be very distracting.	cuddles
Jake was certainly in need of some kind of distraction. His perfunctory hand jive had not really abated his intense sexual needs and it felt rather odd and embarassing to be flying through the night sky holding George Michael's hand whilst maintaining another raging erection. He took comfort at least in knowing that George of all people would understand his dilema. they flew onward and upward dodging the occasional chimney and TV antenna that took on an even more ominous phallic signifigance under the circumstances. The night air was chilly and Jake shivered a bit. George said not a word but pulled him on with a grim determination. Jake at last felt the need to speak. "Um...George... uh, can I ask you one question....?" George's grip on his hand tightened into a vice and he "It's part of my community service." he hissed and fell silent again. "Oh" replied Jake. "I see." Before he could say anything more they had arrived at their destination, The Broadway Nightlife Adult Bookstore. With a whoosh George Michael swooped them down and into the open door. Jake's cheeks burned with shame. This was one of his secret haunts in times of need. It was dark dingy and conveniently on the other side of town from all his other haunts so that the likely hood of someone recognizing him was slim. Well, anyone but the disinterested night clerk who knew him vaguely as Mark when he'd get change for the video booths. It was a rather busy night in there. All along the fringes of the store lurked disheveled men avoiding each others furtive glances as they pawed through stacks of "Big Black Butts" and "Over Fifty" magazines. Others coughed slightly as they sidled anxiously out and away from the peep show booths in the back. George's vice-like grip had not let up as he dragged the nervous Jake past a three hundred pound man in dirty sweat clothes who smelled of Listerine and onions. The enormous man was breathing heavily through his nose and twisting a copy of "Teenage Student Enema Nurses" brutally in it's plastic shrinkwrap to get a better view of the front cover action. He didn't look up. Jake's agitation grew. Over in the next aisle he thought he saw one of his Iron Sausage Engineering teacher's aides pondering a shelf of electro-anal torture videos with the dignified demeanor of a judge at a hog show. If Roger Weaver saw him here he'd never live it down. George seemed nonplussed by it all. They stopped in front of a large glass displaycase. "Ok George" stammered Jake, "we're here and I'm about to be mortified. Just what have you brought me here to see?" With nary a glint of mischief in his luminous blue eyes the former Wham! front man merely pointed to the glass case. "That."	Lanark

Library | Contents | Next Page