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

I’ve loved being an Incubus.  The feeding is everything I live for. 

How to tell your wife you’re an Incubus?

Don’t.

“Yeah, sweetie, I feed on your orgasms.”

That isn’t going to work.

How to even put the subject into a conversation.

It was twenty years ago today that my last wife got told.

She didn’t take it well, and thought I was crazy. I am crazy, but the Incubus is the truth.

That was the beginning of the end. I told her I can read her thoughts. The thoughts she had about others when we had sex, broke me.

I could hear her in her mind talking to the guy.

It was a friend if mine who wanted to slaughter us. I never tried telling her that. I figured she wouldn’t believe me.

Pathological liars can’t take the truth.

She had a 25 year old daughter.

I was hurt. So when I thought about fucking her daughter, I knew she knew. And she got off on it.

What in the blue holy fuck?

That’s repulsive to me.  I thought if she saw that in her mind, she’d be turned off. I never wanted her daughter, I wanted my wife to think about us.

Oh how that backfired.

Never try to outcrazy crazy.