I must preface this story by saying that it is pure fantasy. As you might know, I don't always write fantasy. Sometimes I write fact disguised as fantasy. It's up to you to tell the difference. I avoid the usual disclaimers because, I figure, why are you here in the first place? Wouldn't you like to be surprised for a change?


What Me and Mozart Have in Common: 
by Larkin, .... jet2larkin (at) gmail (.) com
July 2012, copyright

Part 6, Geometrics:


From my window,  I saw him lumbering up the path towards my house.  As always, he looked lost in thought.  I watched and when got to the front door I went down stairs to meet him.  I introduced him to my crazy Mother.   She was polite and encouraged by my choice of a tutor.   

"Treg, if you are hungry, there's plenty of snacks, Carter get him something to eat."

Treg was shy and slightly ill at ease.  When my Mother retreated back to the living room,  Treg and I went upstairs to my room.

I had tidied my room and organized the desk where I did my homework.  I have to admit that I was as nervous as Treg but for a different reason.  I had only one chair at my desk and Treg sat down, opened his math book and prepared a sheet of notebook paper.   He was even more serious than usual.  I stood next to him and moved close so that I rested  against him for support.  He seemed a little uncomfortable with my familiarity but he didn't protest or move away.

I guess he was imagining himself to be a real teacher... "When you are doing areas, perimeters or volumes of geometric objects like squares, trapezoids or cubes, you don't need pi at all."

I looked up and watched his face closely while he talked.  He had a few pimples here and there.  He was so shy, he looked at me and quickly looked back at the book.  I rested my hand on his leg and leaned closer. 

"Um, ahh, what you use pi for is to, I mean for figuring out measurements for circles and spheres."

I said,  "You mean balls?"

"Yes, a sphere is a ball."

"Well why do they call it a spere and not a ball?"

"It's a sphere, not a spere."

Now I was leaning on his thigh with both hands imagining what it would be like if I could just climb into his lap or what he'd look like wearing only his under pants.  Treg tried to clear his throat and then coughed.  I momentarily moved away to give him room and then moved right back even closer.  I was leaning with both hands on his thigh with one hand carelessly brushing the inside of his leg.  Treg looked down and then looked up at me.  I gave him a devilish smile.  He was having trouble concentrating.  I went around to his other side and then leaned in just as close letting my fingers unconsciously play on his leg.  Treg pushed back from the desk and reached down into his pants to adjust something that was bothering him.  I acted innocent but I watched him cope with what was obviously a private matter.  There was a growing lump in his pants.   

His voice sounded slightly hollow.  "Um, ah, Carter, what is this formula?"

Grabbing on his leg for more support I looked hard at what he had written on the paper.

I said, "Pi R, tiny 2."

He cleared his throat again. "That's pi R squared, well what is it the formula for?"

As if I concentrating on Treg's question and nothing else, I let one hand rest on the lump in his pants.  I thought to myself, how could it be that big?  Is there a formula for that?

I shrugged my shoulders and said, "What's the little 2 for?"

Treg's face had suddenly turned red and he sat up and pulled his shirt tail out of his pants in an effort to hide the object of his embarrassment.  I slipped in between the desk and Treg so that I was now facing him, and standing between his legs.  I slipped both hands under his shirt and felt the stiff lump in his pants.  Treg's eyes closed and his mouth dropped open and he began a soft continuous moan.   I was preparing to open his pants when he suddenly sat up and then quickly began gathering his things. 

"I gotta go!"

He was perspiring and his breath was halting.

I said, "Why?"

We were at the top of the stairs and I was trying to convincing him to stay when my Mother came out.  "Oh Treg, before I forget, here's your $10." 

She handed him the folded bill and then disappeared.

I looked at him sympathetically wanting him to stay but he continued. "I gotta go."

I thought as I watched Treg hastily walk off.  I sure hope I didn't ruin everything.




Around dinner hour, Tommy called. "What's up?"

I said, "Nothing."

In his usual charmless way, he said, "Can I come over?"

 "What for?"

He said, "You know."

I said, "Ok."


There is a reason why I never bring David or Tommy into the house.  My crazy Mother and I are close.  A good deal of the time she can tell what I am thinking.  David and Tommy's wicked intentions are written all over their faces and I think she'll figure it out.  So my clandestine meetings with them are held out in the garage. 


Tommy and I sat on the garage floor.   He proudly pulled something out of his backpack.  Tommy was as sly as ever.  It was a full color porno magazine with no writing in it at all, just big tits and scary pussy pictures.   He turned the pages slowly making sure I saw the virtue of each picture. 

Tommy made an effort to be poetic. "Oh shit I would love to fuck her... Carter, wouldn't you love to fuck her?"

I looked carefully at a bulging and hairy pussy. I shrugged my shoulders.  

Tommy was perplexed, "Why, I know I would."

I said, "I might but she doesn't have a penis."

Tommy stretched out and holding the magazine up so that he could continue to flip through it, he cleared the way for me to open his pants.  He was already hard.

Tommy was producing more and more juice and I was developing a real taste for it.    




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