Date: Mon, 02 Feb 2004 19:04:43 -0800 From: dude sweet Subject: Math Tutoring I hate math. Well, I don't exactly hate it; it just drives me crazy. Ok, so what you ask? Well the problem is I have to get all A's and B's at school. Well, at least, according to my mom and dad. My dad says it's so I can get into a good college. You see, I want to be a writer someday. Well I'm a writer now, here on Nifty, but I want to be a real writer someday. Like in real books. So I have been working real hard to get a B- this year. Our semester grades just came out and I did get all A's and B's; but after working very hard, I only got a C in algebra. Bummer. My dad has been helping me, but he's no math whiz either. I have been doing all my homework and studying real hard, but it's not been enough. My mom suggests we `have a talk' with Mr. Anderson, my algebra teacher. Yuk. I hate it when teachers and parents are in the same room. After the torture of the meeting, which I will leave out the details because I don't want to relive it, they decide I should have an algebra tutor. We don't have tons of extra money, but my parents want to find a way to get enough for a tutor. Mr. Anderson suggests we use a peer tutor. That's basically just a smart kid at school to help me with my homework and stuff. They cost way less than a real tutor. So they all agree to try it. I guess I agreed to it too; but I didn't really have a choice. Well, I'm a junior in high school and have waited this long to take algebra because I've never really been good at math. In our class there are all ages of kids from freshman to seniors. Darren is going to be my peer tutor. Well at least he's not in my class. I go into the library after school where we agreed to meet and look around. Since I don't know what he looks like, it's kind of hard to find him. So I just sit down and get out my math stuff and start my homework. By `start my homework' I mean open the book to the right page and put my name and stuff on the paper and write down the first problem. Then I just sit there. After a few minutes someone comes over. "Eric?" "Yeah. You Darren?" "Yeah." He sits down. He's way shorter than me, with a pimply face, spiky hair and a dorky sounding squeaky voice. He looks at what I'm doing. "So, you need help getting started?" "Yeah." So he explains the lesson. Even though he looks like a dork, and his voice sounds like a dork, he's a good explainer. I mean, I actually almost understood the lesson. Maybe it was because I heard it once and class, and now a second time or maybe he was just better than Mr. Anderson. Anyway, I got my homework done in less than 45 minutes. It usually takes an hour to an hour and a half at home with my mom or dad helping. Over the next two weeks I learn a little about Darren. He's a freshman in Mr. Anderson's honor algebra class. He's also in drama and choir. After he learns I am a writer he bugs me to give him some of my stories, so I give him the first part of Mowing, which I wrote for an assignment in Creative Writing class at school. He said he liked it; he acted like he liked it; so maybe he actually liked it. I didn't share any of my Nifty stories with him. I'm still in the closet at school. I have a big chapter test coming up, so I arrange for him to come over to my house on Sunday. My parents will pay him for this lesson since it's not part of the peer tutoring. On Saturday, my mom goes on the warpath. "Eric, your room is a mess. And it smells bad." She looks at my dirty clothes piled up on the floor. She opens my closet and looks at the disaster area there. "You haven't brought down clothes for me to wash in weeks. I want every thing, and I mean everything, down in the washroom now. You find every sock, in the closet, under the bed, every pair of boxers, every t-shirt, every everything you own, and get it down into the laundry room now!" She storms out. I sniff. Well, it is a little smelly. Dirty clothes that are in a pile tend to get smelly. Especially since I been wearing stuff more than one or two days. Ok, maybe it does stink. I gather it all up. I find tons of stuff under my bed. In between my bed and the wall are a couple of boxers I thought I had lost. By the time I have everything in a pile, I realize I have a LOT of dirty clothes. It takes me two trips to haul them into the laundry room. My mom is sorting as I bring the second pile down. She grabs the shirt I'm wearing and sniffs it. How embarrassing. "How many days you been wearing this?" Three days. "I don't know," I say. "Everything. Take it all off and go take a shower." As I start to undress in the laundry room she goes on to say, "Then you can clean your room. I don't mean organize, I mean clean. Vacuum, 409, the works. I don't want your friend coming over tomorrow to your filthy room." Well, he's not my friend, he's my peer tutor. By then, I'm down to my boxers. I'm not taking them off in front of my mom. I have some pride. I go into the bathroom and shower. I hear the door open and close, but didn't see anybody come in. As I'm drying off, I realize my mom grabbed my boxers. I wrap my towel around me and head into my room. My mom has put the vacuum cleaner, 409 and paper towels and a big trash bag. But as I look around, I realize I have no clothes to wear. They are all in the laundry room. I go down to the laundry room to retrieve some clothes. "Want are you doing?" my mom asks. "I need some clothes." "Well you should have thought of that 3 weeks ago when you stopped bringing down your dirty clothes. Your not wearing any of this stuff until it's cleaned. You can get something of your dad's. Go any clean your room now!" Something of my dads? Yeah right. He's like 3 times bigger than me. I decide to just wear my towel. After all, all I'm going to be doing is cleaning my room. My parents never come in my room when the door's shut. Not since a few years ago when my mom opened my door and caught me jacking off. Now she knocks until I answer. So does my dad. My towel keeps falling off when I get down to pick up trash and stuff, so I just leave it off. I can put it on if anyone knocks; but they probably won't even do that. After I get all the trash into the trash bag (way more than I thought), I start to vacuum. Now I don't know if you've ever vacuumed naked before, up until then I never had, but it gave me an idea to take off the brush thing and let it vacuum me, to suck my dick. Well by the time, I get the brush thing off and position myself to put the pole thing on my dick, I have a boner. Well my boner is too fat to put in the pole, but the hose looks like it's bigger. So I pull the pole off the hose and prepare to put the hose on my boner. It's not that great of a feeling or anything, but it was fun to try. As I assemble the vacuum back together my door opens. In walks Darren. What he sees is me naked, with a boner, sitting on the floor, putting the vacuum cleaner back together. Then he sees me have a heart attack and freak out. "Fuck!" I let slip from my lips as I grab my towel. I can't wrap it and tuck it in, because my boner is in the way. He just stands there, with a goofy smile on his face. I turn away, hold up my boner and manage to get the towel around me and tucked in. I turn around. He's still looking at me. "What are you doing?" I demand to know. "I came to help you study. Saturday, 10:00. Your mom let me in and pointed me to your room." "Well you should have knocked." "Yeah, I can see that now. You don't need to freak out Eric; I've seen tons of dicks before. Even boners." What? Tons of boners? "Our thing was tomorrow. Sunday." "No it was today." Well he is still smiling, on the border of laughing, but not crossing over. I am still totally embarrassed of course. "My mom is washing all my clothes." "Hey, whatever man. You don't need to freak out. It doesn't bother me." What was that thing about seeing tons of dicks? I go into the closet and pull on some dress pants. As I walk out into the light, I realize my boner is very visibly poking a tent. I put the towel over. "Eric, quit freaking out. I don't care about your boner. I get them all the time too. I even have one now." He pulls up his shirt and grabs his bulge. Well, it's a lot different; he's got boxers and shorts, I was naked, and now only have pants on, commando style with no underwear. Why does he have a boner? From seeing me? Or just because? I go back into the closet and get a dress shirt and put it one, leaving the shirt untucked to hide my boner, which refuses to go away. Stupid dick. "Wait here." I go out into the dining room and grab a chair and haul it back to my room. I set it up near my desk chair for Darren. As we study, even though my boner goes down a little, I keep thinking about the `tons of dicks' he says he saw. "Dude, you're distracted, you're not paying attention. Are you still mad about me not knocking? I'm sorry. Ok?" "Yeah, it's ok." I guess. "So what's the problem?" "When you said you'd seen tons of dicks, what did you mean? Nobody takes showers in PE. Do they in your PE class?" "No. I never seen anybody take a shower in PE. I saw tons of them at camp the last few years." "You took naked showers at camp?" I ask. "No. I mean yes, we took naked showers, but in stalls, like at home." "So when?" "Well, it's a little embarrassing to talk about," he says. "More embarrassing than having someone walk into your room when you're naked. And hard?" He looks at me and smiles. "No, not more embarrassing than that." "So tell me." "Ok. I will tell you after we finish. Ok?" "Ok." I guess. I was still distracted, but when he gave me a practice test, I did pretty well on it. So I don't want to seem like a dork and bring up the `tons of dicks' thing again. "So did you ever do moon-o-grams at camp? Did you go to camp?" he asks. "Yeah, I used to go to camp all the time. I never heard of a moongram." "Ok Eric, you know what mooning someone is?" "Yeah, of course. When you show your bare ass." "Yeah. Well we started doing that. And when a bunch of guys do it, we used to call it a moon-o-gram. Like once, when the counselor was just coming into our cabin. We all lined up and mooned him when he opened the door." "Your whole cabin?" I ask. "Yeah, ten naked butts. It was hilarious." "What did he do? Your counsellor?" "Laughed." "So you saw tons of dicks when you guys were mooning people?" "Not really." "So..." "Well the moon-o-grams started after 6th grade. When we were at camp after 7th grade, we got a little more daring and a lot more perverted. We invented sun-o-grams." He stops to see if I understand. I give him a look showing I don't have any idea. "Well think about a moon. Now turn it around and we called that a sun." I think for a minute. "So a sun is when you show your dick to someone?" "Not exactly. A sun would be when you surprise some one when their not expecting it and suddenly they see your dick." "Ok." "And a sun-o-gram is when a couple of guys surprise someone by showing their dicks." "And you guys did that? Ran around surprising guys and showing your dicks" We never did that at my camp. "Yeah. I told you it was perverted." "And you didn't get in trouble." "No. Counsellors just laughed. Other campers would try to get revenge and moon or sun us. So by the end of the summer we had all pretty much seen everybody else's dicks." "And boners?" I ask. "Usually not during sunnings." Oh. Then when? But I didn't ask. "Wild," I say. "Yeah, we were crazy. Maybe you should write a story about it. I could send it to all my camp friends. I have their emails. Most of them." "You want me to write a story about your moons and suns?" Sounds like a good Nifty story to me. "Well not if it's too perverted. I just thought it would be cool. Never mind. Forget it." Well I didn't forget it. I got a C+ on my test. I also wrote a short story about mooning and sunning for Darren. You see, I was hoping maybe he might like it and maybe, just maybe, jackoff with me or something like my friends and I used to do in middle school. In the library, during tutoring a few days later, I brought it up. "I wrote that story. About your summer camp." "No way! Did you really?" "Yeah." "Dude, let me have it. Is it ok if I email it to the guys from camp?" "Yeah sure." Good, he likes the idea of it. He holds out his hand. "Dude, I didn't bring it to school. No way." "Oh yeah. Duh. So can I come over? After school tomorrow? We can do the tutoring thing at your house." "Ok." We walk to my house together next day after school. We go to my and I shut the door, just in case anything good happens. Before we start homework he says, "Show me your story. Please." I open the file on the computer for him to read. I trade chairs with him so he can read it. I watch him reading. He is smiling in all the right places. He finally finishes. "Man you are a good writer." I was a little worried. I mean I put some stuff about jacking off and things like that in the story. I wasn't sure he would like it. "So did you like it?" I ask. "No." Shit. "I loved it. You are a great writer. Wait, I already said that." We laugh. "Can we have something to drink before we start homework?" "Sure." I leave and get us some Mountain Dew Code Red. When I come back in the room, he's not in the room. "Darren..." I call out. "Help. I got stuck in the closet." Stuck in the closet? First, what was he doing in my closet? Second, how do you get stuck in a closet? I pull open the door. "Fuck!" He standing in my closet, with his pants down, shirt pulled up and boner sticking right out. "Surprise!" he yells. Hell yes, I was surprised. He pulls up his boxers and shorts and comes out in the room. "Man...the look on your face was hilarious." "I was surprised," I explain. "Yeah. That's the whole point of a sunning." I replay the moment in my head. I was so surprised I really forgot to study his dick. Damn. Believe it or not we do homework. When he leaves to pee, I quickly shut the door and get ready to do my own sunning. I pull down my shorts and boxers and pull up my shirt. I also have a boner. He opens the door to my room. "Surprise!" He comes in and quickly shuts the door. I put mine away. "Dude, yours is huge," he says. It's not huge. Only 5.75 inches. "Well yours looked pretty big too," I offer, even though I didn't really get to see it long enough to judge. "Want to..." He stops. "Compare?" I finish. "Yeah?" "Ok." We stand close to each other. He pulls his down and out pops his boner. I pull mine down as I'm looking at his. I have way more hair. His looks bigger, mine looks fatter. After looking at each others for a minute, we both pull up our pants. "Ok, see you tomorrow," he says as he gets his stuff together. I jack off that night thinking about our time together. Next day, during tutoring he asks, "Want to sleep over? On Friday?" "Sure." I hope we can do more sunning stuff. We make the arrangements. The day drags on forever until finally the final bell rings and we head out to his house. After messing around on his PS2 and eating dinner, we watch a DVD of Spy Kids in 3D. He even has the 3D glasses. It's cool. When the end of the movie comes, I get my courage up and ask him what I have been wondering about for the last few days. "Darren." "Yeah." "You remember when you first told me about moonings and sunnings at camp." "Yeah." "Well you also said you saw lots of boners. But you also said it wasn't during the sunnings. So I was just wondering, when did you see boners?" He thinks for a minute. "Well did you go to summer camp Eric?" "Yeah." "Didn't you see some boners?" "Yeah." "Ok. I bet we pretty much did the same thing as you guys did." "Ok." "What did you guys do?" he asks. Uh, oh. My turn. "Compared." "Yeah. Anything else?" he asks. "Yeah." "What." "You know." "Yeah probally. I just wanted to hear from you." I take a breath. "Ok. Sometimes we jacked off together. Sometimes we even jacked each other off." "Shit!" "Did you guys do that?" I ask because he seemed surprised. "Well, we jacked together. But we never jacked each other." "Oh," I say. "Sounds like it might have been fun." Damn right it was fun. "Yeah." We are both a little embarrassed at that point and drop the subject. Later when it's bed time I ask, "Where we going to sleep?" "Well, we could sleep in my room. Or we could sleep in the living room. But I've got a cool idea. We could set up the tent in the living room and pretend we are at summer camp." "Pretend we are at summer camp? You mean..." I ask, just to make sure I understood him. "Yeah, only if you want to." "Ok. Or we can skip the tent and still do the summer camp thing in your room." This gets a big smile from him. "Ok." We had a blast!