This is a chapter from a book I just finished about a gay serial killer who kills older men.

Bob Evans sat in his office rereading his notes while waiting for his next patient George Michaels to arrive. It was a quiet space in muted earth tones that conveyed calm and a sense of tranquility. The lighting was soft and the furnishing minimalistic. An expensive Persian rug covered the floor. There were no family photos or diplomas hanging on the walls. The buzzer rang and George Michaels entered.

George Michaels was a forty-five year architect who suffered from depression and impotency. His wife had divorced him years before and there were no significant other, male or female in his life. His treatment had been a long and arduous process.

He was clearly uncomfortable as he lay down on the dark leather couch. Evidently tense, his eyes darted around the room and settled on Bob who smiled benevolently. George stretched his legs straight out and crossed his legs at the ankles. Folding one arm across his forehead, he pressed it against his thinning blond hair. Bob believed that George's denial of his homosexuality and coming to grips with it was at the root of his problem. Last week was the first time pieces of the puzzle were beginning to emerge and Bob believed they were finally making progress. George waited for Bob to begin the session. He exhaled loudly and looked at Bob who was seated in a Barcelona chair.

Bob smiled like a parent at a child, his notebook securely in his lap. He cleaned his glasses on his silk tie and nodded. "Whenever your ready," he said and looked down at his notes.

"At our last session you said you were going to the fair and you were really excited. Let's begin there." Bob was a strong looking man standing over six feet tall and huskily built. He had dark brown hair which was fashionably cut and beginning to go gray at the temples making him look like a diplomat or bank president or the lawyer he once was. His pale gray eyes were intent and alert like an eagle searching for prey. Tortoise shelled glasses were perched on the bridge of his nose giving him a professorial air. "Whenever you're ready," he again said to George.

"It was a beautiful day," George began. It was a torturous process for him. Reliving his past and letting some stranger even a doctor into his private life and thoughts was something he loathed doing. "I remember running over the stone bridge past the field of wildflowers growing along the creek. My mother loved wildflowers and I would often go to the creek and pick them just for her and bring them home. I remember how happy she was. It was so long ago." He closed his eyes. "I hurried, as I didn't want to be late for the fair."

From where he sat Bob listened to George's heavy breathing. "Why were you hurrying to the fair?"

"I wanted a front row seat at the wrestling match so I could to see the action up close," he said as Images flooded his brain making him stir uncomfortably on the couch. "It's so hard for me to remember," he whined in a tinny voice. "Do I have to continue?" George was clearly ill at ease dredging up his past. He knew his memories were not clouded by time and over the years had only sharpened and caused his pain. Was that the reason he was here now? He looked over at Bob who sat there forcing him to dredge up what he was trying to escape and forget but knew he couldn't.

"You're doing fine," Bob said. "I know how difficult this is for you but I sense we are making tremendous progress so please continue." Bob's voice was firm and yet comforting.

"It may be easy for you," George's voice showed his anxiety. "Why are we doing this? Why are you making me dredge up the past?"

"Because things that occurred in the past are important. They give us insights that are relevant to the present. I truly understand how hard it is for you, but it's important that you continue."

George was silent biting on his bottom lip, a nervous habit." Grumpily he continued. "I was wearing new gabardine trousers and a blue shirt. I had on highly polished loafers. As I approached the fairgrounds, people from the outlying farms in the region and those from town were beginning to enter. This fair came to our town once a year. This was a farming community and there was not much to do except tend to the animals and plow the fields. It was early to bed and early to rise." He smiled. "It sure wasn't much of a life for someone like me. I hated farming, living there and couldn't wait to get out of there and head to the big city." He sighed, "any city, but knew New York was where I was going to end up after I graduated college. This fair was what people waited for. I wanted a good seat at the wrestling match so I raced to the ticket seller so I could be one of the first on line. I bought my ticket and hurriedly entered the cavernous tent where a makeshift ring had been set up. Dust particles and wheat chaff floated in the air." He hesitated before continuing. "The tent had been set up in John Brown's wheat field. John was a nice man but he had two sons that use to bully me."

"Was that one of the reasons you wanted to leave town? Bob asked

"Did other boys bully you?"

"Yes. I was different than most of them." He snickered. "I sure was smarter than them and I guess they resented me. They thought I was different, acted like I was special. They loved the soil and resented what I supposed was my impervious manner. I didn't like sports and didn't hang out with them or the others. I was interested in art, the theater, architecture and travel. They thought I was an alien." That brought a smile to his face.

"Was there any reason for your behavior? Did you feel superior or was there another reason?" Bob wanted to come to grip with his problem.

"I guess so. I guess I disliked them because they talked behind my back. They said mean things about me."

"I understand." Bob wanted to press the issue but moved on knowing George didn’t want to face the issue at hand. He could see that George was getting upset and he wanted to continue the path they were on and not stop talking. "You said you bought your ticket."

"Yes. I hurried down to the front row and sat on a wooden bench like a giddy kid as crowds began to fill the arena. Most were men. You could sense the tension. It was bravado mixed with fear."

"Why was that?" Bob interjected.

"Some of these men were going to try and fight the Great Mathew." His brow creased. "They were all hoping to win the one thousand dollar prize money if they were able to stay in the ring with him for ten minutes or if by some miracle pin him. I knew it wasn't going to happen as I watched him the previous year and couldn't wait to see him again. The men smoked, laughed, cursed and drank from bottles hidden in their pockets. For the most part it was festive and they were having a good time." The memory was like yesterday as he recalled details. "I sat there quietly and then heard the yelling and ooh and ahs as the Great Mathew entered the tent. Suddenly, it was as if the room was sucked empty of air. A spotlight shone on this colossus of a man who was wearing a blue cape around his broad shoulders and a singlet that outlined his massive body. He charged down the aisle and climbed through the makeshift ropes and paraded around the ring like a peacock. His beard glistened with sweat as he rubbed his handsome face. I was excited to see this strong man who had never been defeated."

"How old were you?" Bob asked.

George chewed on his bottom lip. "I was eighteen. I had just graduated from high school and won a scholarship to Yale."

"What excited you about him? After all you wore your best clothes and polished your shoes. Why?" Bob prodded gently hoping to elicit a response.

The question surprised George and tension filled his face. His breathing became labored and beads of sweat appeared on his forehead. "I guess it was his strength, yes, it was his strength," he responded. "Mathew stood against the ropes, his muscles popping, his arms like sledge hammers. Oh, yes he was strong, something that I wanted desperately to be. I remember this huge man looking down at me and waving. He smiled at me and I was happy."

"Can you explain what it was that made you happy? You were at a fair and there were games and rides, things to eat but you wanted to see this Great Mathew."

"I don't have to explain anything to you," George snarled annoyed. He turned and faced the man who was making him drag up his past resenting him. "Is this all necessary?"

Bob responded. "You tell me."

"Fuck you," George yelled. "You fuckers are all the same."

"Why are you angry?" Bob asked. "What happened that day? Did something happen?" He asked waiting for a reply.

"I don't want to discuss it. Can I go?"

"That decision is yours," Bob said. "I think you should sit her for a moment and think about why you want to leave. It's tough confronting our demons." His voice was soothing and non confrontational. "I think you have the strength to see it through. That choice is yours."

There was silence as George played with a ring on his finger.

"Take a deep breath and let's explore what happened that day," Bob said in a soothing voice.

George finally spoke. "I remember the yelling and screaming as he took on all comers that day dispensing with them like they were children. His massive arms crushed them like twigs. His legs were like oak trees in a forest. He threw not one but ten men across the ring that afternoon. He flung them like they were pieces of kindling. When the fighting was over, I sat alone long after the crowd had gone remembering what I had witnessed." He hesitated and just lay there. His voice was a whisper when he spoke again. "Then, Mathew reentered the tent." George stopped talking. There was awkwardness in silence and the only sound was the clock ticking on the wall. "He didn't have his cape on and his chest was bare. He had a towel around his neck. I looked into his dark and mysterious eyes. He stared at me intently and I was forced to turn away. When I looked back at him he winked at me then walked to where I was seated. He toweled himself off as beads of sweat ran down his chest. His nipples were big and round. He walked up to me and said. "Kid the fight is over and you've stayed too long at the fair. Your mother will be worried."

"I have no mother, she's dead," I blurted out. "I live with my father and he's with his girlfriend. He thinks I'm staying with a friend for the weekend. You were awesome today," I said. He smiled and dark eyes stared at me in a way that made me feel funny. I can't explain it but I felt powerless in his presence.

"Have you had dinner?" he asked. "I'm starved and would like some company. Since you don't have to be home, how about it? I hear the food in the hotel is pretty good."

"I didn't know what to say."

"Cat got your tongue." He reached out and put his massive hand on my shoulder. I felt the heat coming through my shirt. His fingers were long and his hands were calloused.

"I would like to have dinner with you if it's no trouble." I don't know where I found the courage, but I wanted to be in the company of this big man."

"Good," he said. "I don't like eating alone. Wait here while I get dressed."

Bob sat there just listening.

"We walked out of the fairgrounds and into town. A light rain was beginning to fall. He was staying at the only hotel in town and we went up to his room."

"Make your self comfortable," he said and began to undress. He stood there in his jockey shorts and then slipped them off. "I'll only be a moment."

Was this the breakthrough that Bob was waiting for? "What happened next?"

George's breathing was shallow and his eyes were shut tight. "I couldn't take my eyes off of him. His belly was big and round but not sloppy. His had this huge penis and large balls that hung between his legs like our bull in the pasture. He was uncircumcised with a large blue vein that ran the length of his shaft. He knew I was looking at him and smiled. I watched as he went into the toilet and heard the shower running. The sight of his muscular back and beefy behind had me breathless." George shielded his eyes. He had never told this to anyway. He was unmasking himself. Tears clouded his eyes. His throat was dry.

"Were you excited about seeing him naked?" Bob asked in a tone that was soft hoping he would continue. "Let's talk about what was happening to you. You were impressed with his size and strength but why his body? You couldn't take your eyes off his physique. You even noticed the blue vein that ran down the shaft of his penis. Did that make you wonder?"

The words were like a sharp slap to George's face. He reddened and yelled out, "Yes, I wondered. I've been wondering every day of my life." The words spilled out of him. "I thought my penis would burst through my shorts I was so excited." He began to cry.

"It's all right George," Bob Evans said soothingly. "You were excited so you stayed. Your feelings were exposed and you revealed them by an erection. Did you think that you may have been a homosexual and have been denying it? If it were a woman standing there naked, would you have reacted the same way?"

"Is that how you guys get off? Do you live vicariously through others?

"Do you realize that you have been seeing me for over a year and today had been the first time you've been honest with me? Yes, it's painful keeping what you have felt inside of you all these years. Now it's out in the open, we can begin to deal with it."

George lay still for a long time. "I have kept this inside of me until I was ready to detonate. I have been living with this guilt since it happened." He blew his nose.

"What happened to you is not guilt. It's a manifestation of your desires. Don't ever think of yourself as guilty for having feelings. Continue. I believe you must."

"The Great Mathew came out of the bathroom and stood naked in front of me. "Dry my back," he ordered and handed me the towel. His back was massive. I rubbed the soft cotton against it. I stared at his buns and ran the towel over them and down his legs. He turned and he was hard. I could touch his penis I was so close."

"Did he force you? Was he threatening you in any way?"

"No. He never did anything to harm me."

"You know you want it," he said.

"I tried to pull away but I couldn't. My heart was racing, no it was pounding."

"Tell me how much you want this cock of mine in your lily white ass." He said and brushed his hand against my cheek. He kissed my lips." "I was terrified and didn't know what to do. I wanted to flee but instead I stayed. I was leaking and fearful I would ruin my pants." "Isn't what he was saying true?" Bob responded. "He wasn't forcing you to stay. You could have walked out that door at anytime and gone home. So why did you stay?" Bob waited for an answer. "What was going through your mind?"

"I can't."

"Yes, you can. Why you stayed is what you've been denying all your life. It's time for you to face what you've been running from and free yourself."

George began to whimper. His voice was husky. "Yes, I wanted him; I wanted to suck his cock. It's something I dreamed about for the last year. It's what I wanted, thought about and dreamed about. It was as if somebody else took over my body as I put his penis into my mouth. It was large and I began to gag. He took his hand and placed it on his shaft at a place that I could comfortably suck him. I tasted him, the salt and sweet. Do I have to continue?"

"Yes you do. It's time."

"I was frightened and at the same time filled with lust as he fucked my mouth with his organ. Then he did something that surprised me."

"What was that?"

"He lifted me off the ground like a small child and he kissed me. It was a rough kiss as he forced his tongue into my mouth. He held me close and began kissing and undressing me until I was naked. Then his kisses were soft and loving with a sweetness that I had never known before. He put his lips on my nipples and began to first lick and then sucked on them. I," he hesitated. "I thought I would faint. I had never had anything like that done to me. He placed me on the bed and spread my cheeks apart. I knew what he wanted to do and cried out that he would rip me apart."

"Didn't you want him inside of you? In truth you were fulfilling your fantasies with The Great Mathew. Isn't that what you had dreamed about?"

"Oh, yes, it was what I dreamed about, masturbated over. Yes, I wanted to feel him inside of me. Oh, God, he cried out. "I'm so ashamed."

"For what?" Bob asked. "For being who and what you are? For wanting someone."

"Yes, it's what I wanted. He held me close and made love to me. I was taking his thrusts and loving it. I wanted it to last forever and never end. He called out my name over and over. We made love that night and the next day and then he left town. I never saw him again."

"After he left, did you tell anyone?"

"No, I was too ashamed for wanting and liking it. I became depressed and withdrawn. You are the first person I have ever told. I never had another sexual experience until I met my wife in grad school when we got married."

"When did you become impotent?"

"It was during the honeymoon. We tried. We were both virgins and thought in time it would get better. It never did. We talked about seeing a doctor but it didn't matter. Sex wasn't important to my wife. I discovered she was gay. We divorced and still remain friends. She lives with a journalist in California and is happy."

"So today is the first time you admitted openly what you have suppressed all your life."

"That I'm gay. Yes. I feared it all my life and you heard my sordid secret and just listened."

"How does it feel?"

"Not bad. It didn't kill me. The old cliche, I feel like a weight has been lifted and I can breathe again is certainly true. I don't know how to thank you doctor."

"No thanks necessary. You were the one who came to grips with your homosexuality. You sought the help you wanted and needed. Now it's time for you to go out and live your life and be happy. You're being gay doesn't change the man you are. It doesn't make you a better architect, or a better person. It defines who you are. Find somebody, enjoy them and yourself and your impotence with disappear."

"Will you see me, next week?"

"No need. Take care and let me know how you're doing."