Out of the Box

By Don Schecter

When Larry comes out, he finds gay romance requires new and different skills. Tate repeats the same mistakes in each affair. A gay and a lesbian couple conceive a child. Eddie introduces his mailman to sex. Gary shows an older man a new approach to sex. Dennis wonders if there’s life after death. Lanny pursues a younger man in a nudist club. Brett races time to ensure the birth of his gay son. Louis and Neil fall in love on the dance floor. Sam sees his optometrist for glasses and sex. Russ seeks answers from their doctor after his lover dies. The son of gay dads worries he might be gay as well. An older man shadows a hot youngster at his gym. Blake must deal with his attraction to one of his straight employees. Conny immerses himself in the world of S&M. A couple tries bondage to spice up their lovemaking.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Don Schecter
• Release date: May 17, 2011
• ISBN: 9781458146977

Don Schecter

I had an exciting career in communications with the National Security Agency in Maryland. Retired in San Antonio TX, now I travel and write fiction. My work has appeared in magazines, an anthology, and on internet sites. I've written five volumes of short stories dealing with the gay experience. HEIGHTS OF PASSION (2009), OUT OF THE BOX (2010), DISCOVERY OF FIRE (2011), LOVE WANTED, WILL TRAVEL (2012) and STILL YOUNG (2018). These are realistic stories, not intended as erotic fiction but listed under that heading because of their honesty. Sex happens because it's part of the plot, just as sex drives our lives. In 2019, I collaborated with a longtime Dutch friend, Jaap Cové, to produce REMEMBERED PLACES (2020). We had traveled the world in our full lives and certain stories recall their foreign, or local, settings. The longest tale is the true story of the man who gave the gay world The Spartacus Guide and the tortuous path he took rising to success only to tumble ignominiously from the heights.I used my life experiences in a series of novels. A COMPLEMENT OF LOVERS, published in 2013, is a full-length novel that describes the romance of a young couple, Meg and Rodney, who try to make their own rules for living, but come into conflict with the conventional thinking of the 60s. THE ROAD TO FRANKFURT (2014) continues their struggle to adapt while maintaining their individuality. UNCOUPLED, the third novel in the series, was published by Smashwords in August 2015. It follows Meg and Rod through the mid-70s. The fourth in the series, NEVER PROMISE FOREVER was published in 2016. In CUSPS, volume 5 published 2018, Rodney accepts that he is gay, while his daughters are becoming young women, and the family must adjust to a new reality. I'm currently at work on the final volume in the series. Rod begins an open, live-in relationship, hoping that his daughters can adapt to two dads.I hold degrees from Columbia University in both Arts and Engineering, and an Arts degree from Loyola University.

Book preview

The snow fell softly on the living-room window, imitating the artificial frosting Gerald and Rob had meticulously coated on the inside of every pane. As Larry’s finger traced trails in the condensation, he contemplated the deep tan of his hand against the falling white outside.

How are the girls? Rob asked. Will you have a glass of Port?

That would be great. It’s so hard to believe I was in Honolulu ten hours ago, and that I was playing tennis yesterday without a shirt. Larry took the glass Rob offered. Thanks. He sipped. Hits the spot. He seated himself in a comfortable wing chair. My daughters are fine. Once they got accustomed to the Hawaiian school system and made a few friends, they settled right in.

I’m glad the transition went well. They were so headstrong, each in her own way, all the years you lived across the street from us, that I was wondering how they’d adapt to change.

And how are you doing? Gerald asked.

Almost as well. You don’t lack for friends in a strange city because, through your job, you automatically get to know people. But my social life is at a standstill.

Must be tough to get started in a new location, Rob consoled.

Larry could feel the Port go straight for the tip of his nose with a numbing warmth. His eyes shining with an instant high, he looked at Gerald and Rob cuddling against each other on the sofa and blurted, Well, I don’t want to get started with another woman. As their eyes snapped to his, Larry instantly knew his purpose in visiting Gerald and Rob was to say those words.

Cautiously, Rob asked, Meaning?

Meaning I’m ready to try men. I’ve been screwing women for twenty years and it’s never been right for me. A couple of times I thought it was, but, looking back, there was always something missing.

So you’re finally ready, Gerald said.

I’ve been ready for years, all the years I lived across the street from you guys. All I needed was a helping hand, someone to light a lamp. But you two were never willing to get involved. God! The hints I dropped. Weren’t you listening?

Gerald sat back, Rob leaned forward. Cupping his glass in both hands, Rob said, We heard each word, every whimper, every cry for help.

Then why the hell didn’t you do something? We were all such great buddies—on the surface. I never understood why I couldn’t move you.

"I don’t expect you’ll understand now either. But since it’s out in the air, Gerald and I agreed when we talked about it…have you heard of Star Trek?"

What’s that got to d…?

Well, Gerald explained, Rob and I agreed that, like the Prime Directive says, we had no right to interfere with any sentient life forms for fear of biasing their development.

Oh, bullshit, Gerald. All I needed was a word of advice… Larry’s voice trailed away.

You’ll understand in a few years. This is a threshold you have to cross by yourself.

So what are you saying? You still won’t help me?

A doorbell rang. Rob went to the back door through the kitchen, calling behind him as he left, "I didn’t say that."

Gerald finished the thought. What Rob means, Larry, is that now that you’ve come out, so to speak, we can advise you. But we just didn’t feel we could bear the blame if we steered you, and it was in the wrong direction.

Conversation lagged in the living room as Gerald and Larry listened to the growing clamor from the kitchen.

Great to see you…How lovely…Just beautiful. I can’t thank you enough…Come inside.

I really shouldn’t. I must be going…my boots are covered with snow.

I won’t hear no. You have to say hello to Gerald. Take off your boots. It’s been ages since we’ve seen you.

Rob reentered the living room carrying a four-foot-high poinsettia that looked too perfect to be real. Gerald, look who’s here. It’s Kenneth, of all people. He was followed by a strapping young giant in a leather jacket, its fleece collar, still upturned against the cold, framing a stunningly molded head. Larry’s impression was that this was an actor, hired to play the part of a friend delivering flowers. His cheeks were red, his eyes steel-gray, and his hair a thick mass of brown waves. He hesitated at the threshold of the room, wearing heavy woolen socks and holding his wet mittens in one hand.

Larry stood, although nobody seemed to notice him. Gerald went over to Kenneth and kissed him warmly, placing his hands on Kenneth’s ears instead of embracing him because his jacket was wet with melted snow.

Kenneth had to bend down for the kiss. Guys, I can’t stay. I’ve twelve more pots in the van and, if I don’t get moving, they’ll freeze. I’ll come another time. Promise. He turned back into the kitchen. Rob followed him.

Words. Shuffling. The door closed and Rob came back. Wasn’t that nice? he said.

It’s beautiful, Larry agreed, indicating the plant, and so was the delivery man.

Yes, he’s gorgeous. Now where were we? He poked at the fire.

"I need your help. I don’t know how to navigate. Years ago, I asked a friend in college how gays—well, homosexuals, then—met, and he told me, ‘The eyes have it. Look a man in the eye, and if he holds your gaze, it’s ten-to-one he’s a homo.’ Well, I’ve tried, and every time I catch someone’s eye, I look away. It doesn’t work for me."

What exactly do you want us to do? Gerald asked. And it’s sort of difficult, with you living in Hawaii now.

I don’t know, Larry exclaimed, losing patience with his friends. Fix me up. Get me a blind date. Get me somebody who looks like that woodsman who just delivered the poinsettia.

The two laughed together. It just doesn’t work that way in the gay world, Rob said. There are too many tastes, too many kinds of coupling.

Larry looked perplexed. He’d been on a million blind dates in his life. Most were dogs, but every now and then he’d hit a home run. "Well, I’m willing to take the chance. Look around. There must be someone who wouldn’t mind showing me what it’s all about. Hey, all I really need is an opportunity."

The phone rang. Ah, opportunity is ringing instead of knocking. Rob lifted the receiver. He spoke a few words, got up and went into the kitchen for privacy, trailing the telephone on a thirty-foot cord. Gerald and Larry sipped in silence until he came back and resumed his seat.

Well? Gerald asked.

Well, Rob began, that was Ken, who was so smitten by this man—he pointed at Larry—he had to stop at the first phone booth to call.

A beat, and then Gerald and Larry erupted in unison. What! What are you saying?

It went like this: ‘Rob, who is that magnificent specimen in your living room? Why didn’t you tell me you had friends like that?’

And what did you say? asked Larry on the edge of his chair.

I told him to come for dinner Saturday night…and to bring his toothbrush. That is, Larry, if you can make it.

There was no immediate response.

Larry?…Earth to Larry…Are you free Saturday night?

If I had a meeting with the President of the United States, I would cancel it.

Frankly, Rob said, nodding his head, so would I.

The conference for which Larry had returned to D.C. dragged interminably. He hardly paid attention to the information he was being fed, knowing he could verify everything over the WATS tie-line from Honolulu when and if he needed it. He stared at the faces of his superiors and colleagues and only saw gray eyes flashing at him, Rock Hudson in woodsman’s garb, that smile—oh, to touch those lips. Larry ached for Saturday.

So, Ken said, a brandy snifter in his hand as they relaxed after dinner by the fire, tell me about your daughters.

Gerald and Rob had been perfect hosts and now were completing their roles as parents of the bride by doing dishes in the kitchen so the young people could be alone. Larry had steadfastly avoided the words family and daughters, feeling they would be a turn-off on this, his coming-out night. Now he looked at Ken’s ruggedly handsome face, enhanced by the flickering fire, and was pleased that he would not have to split himself into two persons to get into Ken’s bed.

They’re wonderful teenagers. Very bright, lovable, independent. You’d like them if they were here.

And raising them by yourself—I think that’s remarkable—how did you manage it?

Sometimes it was scary, but it always worked out. I hired nannies when they were available, and depended on girlfriends and neighbors when it was necessary.

And that didn’t leave much time to explore your own sexuality, did it? Ken asked with gravity.

Homosexuality would have been inconsistent with my lifestyle, so I just kept heading down the same dusty road. He raised his voice so Gerald and Rob could hear him. And my friends wouldn’t lift a finger to help me.

Rob called from the kitchen, In your hat, buster. If you knew what you wanted, you’d have asked for it.

Maybe so, Larry said so only Ken could hear, and trailed off staring deeply into Ken’s eyes.

Ken’s gaze didn’t waver. Larry could feel energy passing between them, questions asked and resolved without a spoken word, understanding arrived at in silence. Then Ken said softly, Let’s go up. If we wait for them to finish out there, we’ll have to chit-chat for another hour, and I don’t think I want to wait that long to get my hands on you.

In the guest bedroom, Larry turned to Ken and made a gesture that clearly communicated what do we do now, coach? Ken loved this part. Nothing thrilled him like taking a virgin to bed. Although he had done this dozens of times, each time it was a brand new experience because each partner approached his initiation from a fresh perspective. He peeled Larry’s clothes from him with a great deal of tenderness and care.

Larry felt this was the first time he had ever been really naked with another person, nothing held back. When Ken stepped away to look appraisingly at him, and then held his hands apart, Larry walked into his arms and allowed himself to be enfolded. The sensations were startlingly different. Male aromas, body heat, power, massiveness, strength: all these flooded in on him and swirled in his mind. He was on his back—on my back!—with Ken’s weight bearing down on him, Ken showering him with kisses. So this was what my women felt! He allowed himself to slip easily into the dependent role, his mind always watching, examining as a third person would, how they were relating to each other.

Ken’s mouth enveloped Larry’s bursting erection. He showed him by example how to thrill his partner. And then they changed places. Larry eagerly crossed the barrier, his lips closing around his first cock. He struggled to adapt to the unaccustomed feel of a mouth full of maleness. Use your lips, Ken purred. Careful of your teeth. Now play with me right along there with your tongue.

As Larry fell happily into step with the first routine he was taught, his mind had time to register impressions. He had never before been so close to another man’s groin, pubic hair, sac. He pulled back and examined the shaft he was sucking on. It was, to his surprise, smaller than his own. This man who was several inches taller, broader and more massive than he, had a much smaller penis. It was bright red and curved up. It came to an inverted heart-shaped point that made it look like a devil’s tail. Larry sensed a vague disappointment with Ken, then shrugged it off. On the bright side, the small tool made child’s play of sucking: he was able to manipulate Ken’s cock in his mouth with ease. Ken’s balls, too, were jellybeans compared to Larry’s jumbo-sized eggs. Remarkable. With no one except himself to compare Ken to, Larry accepted him as he was. He allowed the pleasure of sensation to flow over him and he was able to completely relax.

Ken held the lube up so Larry could see what it was and what he was doing with it. He rolled Larry to his side and gently massaged his anus with the lubricant. He entered on tiptoe, as gently as an experienced man could take a virgin. Larry experienced no twinge of pain when Ken, with a deep sigh, finally pressed all the way in.

After that, Ken mentally detached from Larry and concentrated on enjoying himself. Larry could sense the emotional withdrawal, but he could not have cared less. His gratitude toward Ken for breaking down the wall he had always allowed to come between him and his desires was all encompassing. The glow that suffused his body blocked out the fact that he was no longer registering pleasurable sensations from his nether regions. At the moment, Ken was only intent on satisfying himself; Larry was just happy to find it didn’t hurt.

It was another four months before Larry was able to get back East again. Spring was in the air despite a brisk, cold wind. He and Ken had exchanged several letters, and sometimes spoken on the phone. Ken was always pleasant and polite, casually interested, but never returned Larry’s enthusiasm. Larry was riding a seemingly permanent high: he was so ecstatic with the miraculous break he had gotten, he was sure it was only a matter of time before Ken returned the love he felt for him.

Ken lived on the upper floor of a brownstone facing east. The light poured into the oversized, uncovered windows, warming and cheering the otherwise drably furnished flat. Larry swept Ken off his feet the moment the door opened. He dragged him directly to bed because he hadn’t had sex since he last saw Ken. Preferring to keep himself for his lover, he had made no attempt in Honolulu to employ his new knowledge. Things were more enjoyable for him now because he had had time to adjust to his feelings about sex with a man. He had carefully planned strategies to please his partner, and set out to show that he was no longer a novice. Ken seemed happy with the effort, and Larry liked being able to return some of the joy Ken had given him.

Afterwards, they sipped coffee in the warm morning sun and Larry declared his love for Ken. Ken listened with polite interest as if he were hearing a very good story. He never interrupted and, when Larry finally wound down, he replied with the same tenderness he had shown in their lovemaking.

"Larry, I know this is hard for you, but it was anticipated: it happens all the time. You only think you’re in love with me, because I’m your first. There’s a whole new world out there for you to discover, and it would be totally inappropriate for you to fence yourself off from it by falling in love with the first man you had sex with."

Larry tried to protest but Ken overrode him as they both already knew what Larry intended to say. It’s the pupil/teacher syndrome. First-timers are always falling in love with their teachers. It’s standard psychological transference after a lifetime of pent-up emotions.

Don’t you enjoy sex with me? Larry countered. We seem to get along so well.

Sure I do. You’re going to develop into a fine lover. You have all the instincts. And you’ve had practice taking care of others, so you’re unselfish and considerate. But your life and mine are so disparate. Do you imagine I want teenage girls around, or that we could wait until they move out? These are just some of the practicalities you haven’t even stopped to think about in your rush to be gay.

Larry heard. It made sense to him even though he didn’t want it to. It felt so peculiar, being ten years older than his mentor. He was aware that Ken was trying very hard not to talk down to him. But Larry was thirty-eight and, although old for a beginner, he was well trained in the path of true love by all the Bette Davis films he had devoured as a youngster. This training now surfaced in one more college try.

This is beyond all comprehension. You love me and I love you, and if you don’t grab the ring on the carousel, you lose it…possibly forever. This is totally unreasonable, and I won’t accept it.

Ken smiled wearily. In this, he was jaded. Although ever-changing partners kept sex fresh for him, his affairs all ended with the same conversation.

Larry, hear me! I don’t love you. I have a policy never to date the same man more than two or three times. Five times tops for exceptions. You’re one, but that’s the limit.

You have a policy? Love is determined by policy in the gay world?

That’s just it. I’m not the gay world. I’m just one component, the portal through which guys like you enter. Now that you’ve stepped through, you have to go exploring on your own.

Larry had no fight left. He just looked at Ken, disbelieving.

Please write me. I’d like to know how you’re making out. I like to keep contact with my students. Ken grinned broadly and affectionately.

Larry, dispirited, had no choice. He reluctantly capitulated to the voice of experience.

Before going to the airport, Larry stopped at Gerald and Rob’s to reveal his broken heart. He was astounded that the two men were less than sympathetic. Rob said Larry had been brought out by the best there was. He not only knows what he’s doing, he also knows not to let his pupils hang around.

Doesn’t he want what everybody wants: a lover, a cottage, and a future? Larry asked.

Not everybody wants those things. You’re thinking with your old orientation. Ken is known in gay circles as Princess Tinymeat, and the way he compensates for his perceived handicap is to see only novices, those who have no point of comparison. Then he gets out before someone turns around and says, ‘Fuck off, bastard; I’ve found me a lover with a baseball bat between his legs.’

Those things don’t matter. I love him.

Today. And you’ll love many more tomorrow, until you’ve sown your oats and decided what you really want in a man. Ken’s a good sort. You two will always be friends. And you’ve got a good start on a new life.

I feel like I’m being ripped in two. I want to chuck everything and stay with Ken, if he would have me. The future looks more lonely than it did before.

You’ll be busy enough. Look, you’ve just passed over a threshold. In a very short time, I expect, each of your girls will approach a similar doorway. Knowing them as I do, I have a very strong premonition that you’ll have your hands full. Would you want them to marry the first boys they fall for?

This is different. I’m an adult. Larry was adamant. I know what I want.

Larry, Gerald confided gently, we’re your friends, and I have to tell you that in our experience with you, that isn’t true. You’re no better equipped to handle this situation than a teenager. Listen to poppa. Go back to Oahu and enjoy your new life.

Rob added, You always wanted us to advise you. Well, that’s our advice.

Reluctantly, Larry got to his feet. I have to catch my plane. The resolve on his face was fading. A puzzled look replaced it. He trusted his two friends.

Rob and Gerald kissed him at the door. It felt very strange to kiss these men he’d always hugged or shaken hands with.

You’ve got a lot to learn, Larry. It only gets better. And you need some experience so you can make the right choices, Rob said.

When you come back next time, Gerald added, we’ll talk again. You’ll be an old hand by then, and we’ll gladly say we told you so.

They waved goodbye. Think about it on the flight, and give the girls our love.

Tate’s Death

1

Tate’s death ripped a hole in the lives of those who loved and adored him; of those who adored him without having had the chance to love him; and especially of those who loved him and were then discarded, one after the other, like so many banana peels. Ben Lyman fell into the latter category, which seemed unfortunate at the time, but now that Tate was gone, Ben reflected that having known Tate at all was probably worth the trouble.

They met on one of Tate’s rare off days. He looked small and dejected in a windbreaker with its collar turned up, hands in trouser pockets, shoulders hunched forward. Ben wouldn't have noticed him except Tate stopped him as he passed. I wanted to introduce myself, he said in a tentative voice. I’ve seen you in the bars, and I think you’re very handsome. Ben tried to place him. The uncertainty hurt Tate but, as recognition grew in Ben’s eyes, a sheepish grin spread over Tate’s face. Ben said something complimentary about his smile, the cinematic flash of white teeth against a year-round tan, and continued on his way. He was surprised Tate looked so unprepossessing; it didn’t fit the image he had of the most desirable young man in town.

Six months later Ben received an email: Tate couldn’t get Ben out of his mind; he hoped he could visit for a weekend—all expenses paid. He would put Ben in a hotel and stay with him. Ben’s antennae went up; he deflected the invitation by asking Tate if he was using his own money. He replied openly that it was his lover’s, a wealthy man who was away for a few weeks. Ben thanked Tate for thinking of him but didn’t

Reviews for Out of the Box

[ekanderson_1 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

I’ve recently had friends tell me that they’ve been a little disenchanted with middle grade. I have to admit, I don’t read a ton of middle grade. I stick mostly to YA and sometimes read an adult book or a tween novel here and there. Which is why I picked up Michelle Mulder‘s OUT OF THE BOX — it has that perfect tween-ness to it, with thirteen-year-old Ellie right on that line that straddles the innocence of childhood and the angst of growing up. I love that kind of story. And OUT OF THE BOX blew me away.Ellie is super close to her family — her mom and dad always taught her that families talk about everything, so she always knows what’s going on in her parents’ heads. Sometimes that’s not such a good thing. Ellie struggles to be supportive of her mom when she’s feeling depressed, or when her dad hides out in his office for a super long time. She’s excited, though, to be spending the summer with her eccentric Aunt Jeanette in Victoria, helping to clean out her basement. While Ellie’s mom is sad to see her go, Ellie can’t wait to spend time with Jeanette sorting through all the junk and looking for gems to sell in a yardsale to benefit the local homeless shelter.It’s not long before Ellie finds a gem of her own — an Argentine instrument similar to the accordion called a bandneon. Ellie secretly loves tango music, even though her dad loathes the accordion he was made to play as a kid. When Aunt Jeanette tells Ellie she can have it, she’s beyond excited. She doesn’t tell anyone about it, though, but her new friend Sarah, the pretty girl next door who has surprised Ellie with her sweet and welcoming nature. Of course, everything isn’t peaches and cream with Ellie. Sure, she’s having a fun time with Sarah and going on regular adventures with her aunt, but things at home aren’t exactly spectacular, and Ellie’s mom calls every day to tell her how much she is missed. Plus, Ellie has found a secret sewn into the lining of the bandoneon case — both Canadian and Argentine money, and identification that Ellie traces back to people who went missing in the 70′s. In fact, she’s about to find out a lot about Argentine history that puts her on the hunt for the original owner of the bandoneon, even though it means she might have to give it back.OUT OF THE BOX has so many elements — the nature of family and friends, loss, politics, mystery, music, and even mental illness — but everything is tightly knit together, creating a story that is both compelling and beautifully written. I felt like I knew Ellie by the time I finished this book. I was rooting for her every time she got a tough call from her mother, I cheered her on while she researched Argentine history, and I held my breath when she was having a tough time with her friends. For everyone who feels like there’s something missing in contemporary middle grade, I’m telling you, you’ve got to hunt this title down. You won’t be sorry.