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By Chris Carr


Spring 2012







 Coming soon to The Studies..




Looking for a way to cure his boredom, Erik takes a job at a local bookstore. What he hadn't counted on was the group of kids who invaded the store every day at 3:30...




“Ok, here’s another one. What can you catch but can’t throw away?”

“I dunno, a pest?” Erik smirked, closing the cash register.

Ignoring him, Kris replied, “A cold.” His crew laughing, Kris smiled.



Stepping away from the adult section counter, Erik walked to the bookstore counter to face the boys. The security alarm on the electronic surveillance apparatus sounding, he glanced at it. One of the boys had just passed between the twin walls of the apparatus, sitting in the aisle between the adult section and the bookstore. Erik called him back, as the rest of the boys cackled.


“What’s in your hand?” Erik asked.

“I was trying to get these chips,” the teen defended.

“Yeah, but don’t take ‘em past the scanner. Come over here.”


For the most part, the boys were harmless. Rambunctious at times, but within acceptable limits. They reminded him of himself at that age.


One by one they made their purchases, candy and sweet snacks passing over the counter in exchange for pocket change.

“Wanna buy some Dodgers tickets?”

Erik shook his head no.

“Why?” Another boy asked.

“I don’t like the Dodgers,” Erik replied, handing one of the boys his change.

“You don’t like the Dodgers?” The first boy aped.

“Who you like?” A third boy chimed.

 “The Astros.”

“The Astros!” All the boys gasped.

“Man, The Astros suck,” Kris, the self-appointed group leader quipped.


A new customer stood patiently at the adult section counter, watching as Erik bantered with the lively group.

“Com’on guys,” He admonished, “wrap it up.” One of the gang glanced over at the adult section counter, visible only if you stood directly in front of the bookstore counter, and observed the middle-aged customer waiting.

“Got all that gay shit, huh?” He taunted, looking back at Erik.

“Gay, straight, whatever,” Erik commented, ringing up his purchase.

“Ugggggh! That’s faggot, man! You like that shit?”

“Gay, straight, what’s the big deal, it’s all the same?”

“Naaaaaw, ain’t all the same. Ewwwww, how you like that?”


The teens giggled, warily observing Erik as he rung up the final purchases. Erik considered defending himself but, once again recalling what he was like at that age, thought better of it. As the boys piled out the front door, he walked around the L shaped counter to the adult section, greeting the patient customer.

“That happen every day?” The customer inquired.

“Every day at 3:30, like clockwork.” Shaking his head, the customer countered, “Think it would drive me crazy.”

“They’re cool,” Erik dismissed, taking the man’s rental card. “Kris’ jokes get corny, but it’s ok.”


Ringing the customer’s rental purchases, he walked the man’s films around to the front counter, as the man walked around to join him.

“Kind of weird, though,” he commented, grabbing his bag of porn films.





In time he becomes accustomed to the noisy intrusion until, one day, a stranger appears... 





Days passed, the boys returning each day as before without further incidence. No one mentioned the gay (or straight) films anymore and all was as it should be, that is, until he noticed a strange youth lingering behind the magazine shelves. A baseball cap pulled low over his eyes, he was thumbing through an edition of Vibe. It shouldn’t have mattered, but something about the way he was acting made Erik suspicious.


Browsing magazines for some time he occasionally glanced up then quickly darted his eyes away when he observed him. Erik kept a watch on him, insuring he didn’t pocket a magazine until he eventually left, darting his eyes anxiously up as he passed the counter.


The next day, baseball cap showed up as before, lingering amidst the magazine shelves long after the daily gang of boys had left, that suspicious look on his face again. For days this continued until, almost a week later, the curious youth finally made a purchase, cautiously approaching the counter with a bag of chips.


His head down, he looked up only when Erik turned to ring up the chips. When Erik returned with his change, he swept it off the counter and quickly exited.


The routine continued, baseball cap remaining warily distant for so long Erik eventually paid him no attention surmising that he was harmless. Finally, during his purchase one day, his head still down, he murmured, “Watched the game last night?”

“Game? What game?”

“Astros, Dodgers.”

“Oh… no, don’t watch games that much,” Erik said, gazing at the bill of baseball caps’ cap.

“They won.”

Houston ?”

“Yeah,” the boy muttered, slowly raising his head. From what Erik had seen of him from a distance he’d concluded he was average, just peculiarly quiet. But as he raised his head and his face came into view, Erik noted that he was quite attractive, his fair, caramel-brown complexion carrying the most attractive trace of reddish tint. His subtle, hazel-brown eyes holding him, Erik felt a stir.

“Thought you said you like Houston ?”

“I just said that because I didn’t feel like buying baseball tickets,” Erik explained.


“Why? You a Houston fan?” The boy nodded yes.

“Football,” Erik said. The boy observed him, a little confused.

“I like football. Mostly college, but I like pro too. Think Chicago’s got a good team this year.”


The boy casting Erik a guarded look, he added, “They’ve got a good rushing game, man.” Sweeping his change from the counter he looked at Erik quizzically as he pocketed it. “Watch,” Erik admonished.




Smitten, Erik invites him to work at his folk's apartment...




“Thought you were going to the movies,” Erik inquired.

“Ain’t got the money,” Ty said, picking up a magazine. Ty almost a permanent fixture at the store now, a couple of days earlier he’d mentioned a movie he was avidly anticipating, yet, here he was on a Saturday. Bringing the magazine over to the counter, he leaned against it, thumbing through the pages.

“So what’s been up with you lately? Why no money?”

“I’m saving.”

“For what?”

“Just something I wanna get.” Turning to face him, he inquired, “Think they’ll ever make BluRay porn?”

“The bigger companies already have but it’ll probably take a little longer for all of it. The porn industry is always behind Hollywood.”

“That’s what I thought too,” Ty said, returning the magazine to the shelf. His pants sagging off his swiveling hips, Erik caught the briefest glimpse of his pert round cheeks.

“So what you got planned for today, besides hanging out here?” Ty hunched his shoulders, picking up another magazine. Watching him a couple of minutes, Erik inquired, “Wanna make some money?” That got his attention. Walking over to the counter, he nodded his head fervently up and down.


“My folks own a couple of apartments,” Erik started. “I manage one of them. That’s why I only work part time here. Don’t really need the money, but it gives me something to do. Anyway, we got a vacant apartment I gotta get in shape for renting. You know, painting, cleaning, the works. Ain’t much but you’ll get a little piece of change every day you work. Whadaya think?”

“Hell yeah,” Ty enthused, slapping Erik five.

“Cool. We can start tomorrow, you want.”

“Just tell me what time.”

“Meet me here at 10:00.”





A friendship is forged and Erik is further smitten until Ty's unique propositon...



Ty slowly disclosed more about himself, Erik finding each revelation endearing. Baseball and how he’d started little league when he was 7. His mother and their obviously close relationship. And his odd fascination with porn and how he’d film it differently.

“That stupid music,” He noted, one day, as they dragged paint brushes across cigarette-stained walls. “Why they always have to play that stupid music?”

“Think it’s a directing technique,”  Erik said, dipping his roller in paint. “If they play the music, you don’t hear the director telling them what to do.”

“Tellin’ them what to do? Why he gotta tell ‘em what to do?”

“Probably because most of the people doing porn aren’t actors.” Pausing, his paintbrush held midair, Ty considered this.

“Think I’d rather they just let them do whatever they gon’ do, though. That music drives me nuts.”

“You’ve seen more than a couple films, haven’t you?” Dabbling at a spot on the wall, Ty glanced at him, the red bandana tied about his head like a crimson halo. Nodding slowly, he looked away.

“Guess I’m kinda like you, huh?”

“Nobody’s like me when it comes to porn,” Erik chuckled.

“I don’t mean that,” Ty said, looking subtly up. “Why you think I was hangin’ ‘round that day after Kris went off ‘bout those…. films?” Erik hunched his shoulders. “I been tryin’ to figure you out, man. You sure you into gay films?”

“Yeah, why?”

“’Cause… you ain’t like them other guys at the store.”

“Just because you’re gay don’t mean you have to be queeny.”

Ty laughed at the new word, turning to face Erik. “Wish it was that simple.”

“Why can’t it be?”

“’Cause… just forget it man,” Ty huffed, turning away again. Erik said nothing, Ty glancing at him as he idly dabbed at the spot on the wall again.

“Whatever you into is nobody’s business,” He said.

“Even if it’s sick?”

“Liking a guy isn’t sick.”

“What about a boy?” Pausing, Erik fought his first reaction. Hoping his face wasn’t betraying him, he replied, “A boy?” Letting out a frustrated exhalation, Ty dropped his head. “Why I got to be like this?” he muttered.


Walking over to a pair of crates, Erik sat, directing Ty to sit opposite him.  After a moment’s hesitation, Ty complied, plopping down.

“You know, at your age, liking a boy isn't a problem," Erik said. 


Laying his hand on his shoulder, Erik stated, "Trust me, it's all good. Unless you’re talking about a very little boy, ain’t nothing wrong with what you’re feeling.”

Huffing, Ty shook his head. “He ain’t little…not into that,” He asserted

“Then there’s no problem.”

Ty stared at his feet, paint spattered in pinpricks about his tennis.

“You think he will?” Erik hunched his shoulders.

“We hang out, but he don’t act like no fag.”

“’K, small observation here… you’re wanting to do a little sumpin’ sumpin with your dawg and you don’t ‘act like a fag’. Hello?!”

“Yeah,” Ty acquiesced, comprehending.

“Yeah,” Erik echoed, ruffling the boy’s hair.

“Man, don’t touch me, you stink,” Ty joked, a smile spreading across his face.

“So… when you goin’ to ask him?”

Ask him? I can’t ask him!”

“Why not?”

“’Cause…” Standing, Ty walked over to the window. “You ever done this before?”

“Talked to a guy? Yeah.”

“So….” Turning to face him, “how ‘bout you do it?”


“Yeah, whasa-matter? You chicken?”

“I ain’t the one wantin’ to get with li’l man.”


Crossing the room, Ty sat across from him. Looking earnestly into his eyes, he made a petition for Erik to intercede on his behalf.

“You know what to say,” He argued.

“But to a guy… not a kid.”

“I told you, he ain’t no little kid.”

“What am I’m going to say, wanna hook up with this guy I know? Oh, that’ll get me on the 6:00 o’clock news. Just see it now…”

“You know him.”



Faced with Erik's dilemma, what would you do? What does Erik do? What happens with he and Ty? Who's Ty's mystery interest? 


Get the answer to all these questions and many more with our upcoming story, "3:30"! 


Coming soon to The Studies!



His heart pounding in his ears, he was certain he’d faint at any moment. Must be outta my mind, he accounted, wiping his brow. Peering out the hole, he felt sweat trickling down his armpits. Voices echoing from the front room, he held his breath, waiting.

“….something to drink?” Ty was saying, entering the room.

“Yeah,” the other boy replied, tentatively settling on the edge of the old mattress.


Panicked, Erik pulled back, praying they wouldn’t notice him. You have lost your God damn mind, he asserted, his heart thundering in his chest....




Falling onto the mattress, they lay next to each other, rock hard dicks sword fighting between them as they kissed. Spellbound, Erik watched as they writhed against each other, their kiss still extending. Soft wet sounds slipped between them as sporadic moans or groans could be heard.


Holding each other in a death grip, they tussled, their pants-bound legs restricting them. One would try reaching his leg around the other, only to have his pants snag, and then the other would attempt, miserably failing. Undeterred, they held each other, small whimpers escaping them as they kissed.


Their desires ignited, the boys flailed against each other, their dicks mashing together. From his vantage point, Erik strained to observe their dicks but could see nothing but two bodies thrust together. Remembering the mirrors on the wall above them, he glanced up at them, the sight of the two bodies laid out below painfully erotic. From that angle, he could see the way their twin forms were mightily pressing against each other. With great force they would writhe, their backs arching as they ground their dicks against each other. Finding a rhythm, they humped, their lips still locked as eager hands roved over shirt clad backs. Their partially clad bodies frustrating, Erik was still enjoying the show.


The boys both let out strangled moans, their bodies shuddering as each of them writhed powerfully against each other. Dual bottoms convulsing, their twin ass cheeks dimpled, and then they both froze, every muscle in their body straining... 




And then there's the inevitable plot twist....



Heartbroken, Erik realized he was suffering a mild depression. In addition to his loss, he now had desires he’d never experienced before. Striving for some semblance of normalcy, he poured himself into his work, taking on extra hours.


In the evenings, when possible, he’d taken up swimming at a local park. Leaving the bookstore just after dark, he’d jog over to the park, the cold water a welcomed relief. Swimming often, he’d increased his stamina, eventually working up to laps about the large indoor pool.


Sometimes, there were others to accompany him, various organizations using the pool on different nights. Others, it seemed almost deserted. Undeterred, he swam, head down, body working diligently to relieve his stress. It was on the nights he could go home most exhausted, he was happiest, his fatigued state allowing little time to ruminate before drifting off to sleep.


Paddling about the pool, he was one with the water, hands flailing, his thoughts free to roam atop the liquid journal. “There that man again momma,” children would note, watching as he coast by.


Making his laps, he paused, one evening, holding onto the ledge, his pulse racing. Wiping water from his face, he panted, the pool eerily quiet. Looking around he was actually grateful for the solitude, his thoughts still numerous. Finding his towel, he toweled off quickly, heading for the locker room. At his locker, he dried himself more thoroughly, wiping water from his smooth, caramel tinted exterior. Plopping a wet foot on the bench, something caught his eye. Protruding from his locker was a small sliver of paper. Raising up, he pulled at it, removing the handwritten note. Looking around, he searched for signs of its creator. His aisle empty, he unfurled the paper.


He wants to talk you, it read. Meet me tomorrow, after school, at the apartment.




Love's triangle has many twists and turns. Will it turn Erik's way?



Uncomfortable, Erik glanced down at the boy, their bodies still together. Ty was staring out the window, but in his brief glimpse, Erik could see the bulge in his pants.

“We better…”

“Today….” Ty interrupted. “Today is my birthday.” Moving away, he stepped into the small dining room area, shoving his hands in his pockets. “’Spose to be this great thing but now, everything’s changed. Probably better though.” Turning to face Erik, he looked straight into his eyes. His hands in his pocket pulling the fabric taut, there was no missing the disturbance in his jeans.... 


This but an excerpt. Told in several chapters it's another barn burner heading towards The Studies!! 


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