This is a fictional story told by Max J. Clayton.

I already said I tried forcing myself on others.

When I was 18 her name was Abby Clark. She was 22 and had fucked many. She was my second. 

We had sex and it was the first time I ever heard “MAX, FUCK ME IN THE ASS AS A HARD AS YOU CAN!”

Oh well, I really liked anal the first time. 

Then she said “Rape me.”

It wasn’t my idea to rape her.  However,  I got way into it. It was as if someone had taken over my body and I watched what was going on. 

I got rough with her, pinning her arms behind her back.  Growling in hear ear “Is this what you want?”

I never raped anyone. It was my 2nd girlfriend that I had sex with. I didn’t want to rape her.

It fucked me up.

I stopped and started crying. I couldn’t believe this blue eyed Gothic beauty wanted to be hurt. 

It way fucked me up. It was several fucks later before I could engage in rough sex. It made me gentle with fucking. 

I mean I was on the last wife before I could get rough with a woman.

Now, mind rape, that’s a thing. I’ve been raped in the minds of many women. The downside of being a Telepath. 

Being a Telepath isn’t cool as fuck, it’s a fucking pain in the ass. 

The women that I never wanted to fuck, those fugly fucking bitches. 

The fact I could see what they wanted to do to me, it fucked me up, and now I can’t look at any woman and not notice one nice thing about her.

Nice tits.

Nice legs.

Great ass.

God I want my cock in between those lips.

I got used to it. Being a play thing in their heads. They had no idea I knew their thoughts. 

But first it really got to me. It’s why I drank in order to have sex. That’s what turned me into an alcoholic.

One of my ex-wives, the one I had my son with, told my girlfriend “Just get him drunk.”

I had help into alcoholism.

When I drink, I’m happy horny drunk. Many women found that out. Many women still fantasize about the sex we had.

Being a Telepath, if it’s about me, I can’t not know. I’ve jerked myself off to several women who were fingering themselves somewhere else. 

That and we exchanged a piece of or souls. We were connected by the sex we had.

For me, it’s something thing I deal with. I’ve had a more than 10 years to think about it. Fuck this celibacy.

I really need to get laid.

Fuck that fucking curse and fuck that motherfucking bitch who cursed me.

Now that I write that, I hope she’s doing well and is happy with her life without me in it.

If I think about it, she probably hasn’t found one motherfucker who can fuck her as well as I did.

She never will.

When things were good, I’d slap her face and fucked her mouth, and treated her as a submissive when we fucking.

I miss fucking her.

If anyone ever reads this journal…