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

I was looking at the 4 years of sex I had disguised as relationship, and fucking fucksticks.

Tina had 5 sisters, my mother had 5 sisters. Today is my mother’s birthday, Tina’s was yesterday.

How in the blue holy fuck did I miss that.  Oh right, the fucking was righteous.

She was ten years older than me and at times she liked to call me daddy. I just went with it. Her mind was full of being a 16 year old and it was kind of hot fucking a 35 year as a 25 year old.

Thankfully she’s the only one.

Tina made me a motherfucker. 

I was fucking a mother with 3 kids.

My sons mother met Tina’s sister on the 4th of July at the park.  Here’s what she said seeing my wife was pregnant.

“Max, you were the best thing that ever happened to Tina and her kids.”

I was just doing my best with both, Tina and her kids.

That’s why I use the term motherfucker as a badge of honor for all the moms I fucked, and took a stepdad approach with seriousness. 

If you are going to fuck a mother, you had better be the best stepdad they’ve ever seen.

It’s the training is got for my son. I watched how they raised their children and I gave them all the support the needed.

Bruce Lee said something like let everyone train you and make it uniquely your own. I learn from every situation. 

I allow the situation to unfold to see what I’m dealing with. It might look the same, but I’m not the same. If it’s other people, definitely not the same.

From mother to motherfucker, who could have been my mother, and she called me daddy.

Who has this life?

This is a fictional story by Max J. Clayton.

Lying.

Why do these fucktards lie?

Most of them lie to themselves and insist their lie is the truth. Being a Telepathic being on this motherfucking planet sucks balls. 

I’ve built tremendous patience with their lies.  Otherwise I’d be screaming at them all the fucking time.

Look at my last wife, the pathological liar.  This is how I built my patience, my tolerance for liars. Now it’s gone.

Every motherfucker will get the pain filled truth from me.

This is why I haven’t had sex in more than ten years. I quit drinking and all I can feel is their lies. 

It all starts with makeup. Make sure there nails are painted, the clothes.  The women that where the yoga pants and insist we don’t pay attention to their asses.

You’re showing it off. Off course this motherfucker is looking at your ass.

Spandex is the worst thing for an Incubus. I am sex.

Showing your tits and ass to everyone and if they notice, you blast them that your not wanting that kind of attention and you should be more evolved.

Fuck that bullshit.

You’re showing me a smorgasbord, and I’m not supposed to pay attention. 

Nothing says “LOOK AT ME!” more than the way some women dress. Dudes too, but I’m an Incubus, not gay.

Even my feminine side is a lesbian.

My last wife said “You’re a man worth shaving for. “

That’s how much time I spent between her legs with my face.

Patience is waiting until she grabs your head and screams “FUCK ME NOW MOTHERFUCKER!”

Usually takes about 30 to 45 minutes. 

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

Speaking off me getting knocked down, for an Incubus celibacy is a way to knock me the fuck down and keeping me pinned.

I’m not sure if I’ll ever get back up again. Let’s face it, more than ten years and I still haven’t found one to share my gift with. It truly is a gift.

My ex-wives and girlfriends benefitted from having me.

What in the blue holy fuck happened to me?

I was a mans man. Then I stopped having sex.

Fuckety fuck fuck.

An Incubus who is celibate, sex is our power. May as well have killed me.

I haven’t been able to heal and I feel everything that has happened through my life.  The pain is unreal. 

I get why we don’t do celibacy.

I’d kill to fuck a woman.  I might actually kill if I don’t fuck a woman soon. 

What the fuck?

What I need is a drink. I get drunk and someone will fuck me. I don’t care if she’s 4. I don’t have to look at her face as I fuck her.

But, I’m not going to do it. I’m sure I’ll find someone who I spend a few years with. I’d like to say til death do us part. But I know she’ll die long before I do.

I mean grand dad is over 200 and still looks like he’s in his 50’s. From what he has told me, his mom is over 600 years old.

She lived 400 years before she had my grandfather. 

My mom is on her 4th husband after killing the last two with sex. 150 years old and still fucking like screaming banshee.

Where is this one that will get me, double entendre. More than double.

Who will understand me?

Who will get fucked like pornstar every night?

Who will get my protection?

Protection,  I haven’t talked about that yet.

How do I protect someone I’m fucking?

My spirit does some shit.  I bilocate. Every where my woman goes, I go with her.

I fucked guys up I never met. They wanted to hurt my woman and they paid dearly for it.

The first few got their necks broken before I realized I was doing it. Now, I just rough ’em up and send them on there way.

So who gets me?

Who wants me?

Apparently no one.

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…

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

You know Axl got a few things right.

Don’t damn me when I speak a piece of my mind
‘Cause silence isn’t golden when I’m holding it inside
I’ve been where I have been and I’ve seen what I have seen
I put the pen to the paper ’cause it’s all a part of me
Be it a song or casual conversation
To hold my tongue speaks of quiet reservations
Your words once heard they can place you in a faction
My words may disturb but at least there’s a reaction
Ooh-yeah, ooh-ooh-yeah

Sometimes I wanna kill, sometimes I wanna die
Sometimes I wanna destroy, sometimes I wanna cry
Sometimes I could get even, sometimes I could give up
Sometimes I could give, sometimes I never give a fuck
It’s only for a while, I hope you understand
I never wanted this to happen, didn’t want to be a man
So I hid inside my world, I took what I could find
I cried when I was lonely, I fell down when I was blind
Don’t damn me when I speak a piece of my mind
‘Cause silence isn’t golden when I’m holding it inside
I’ve been where I have been and I’ve seen what I have seen
I put the pen to the paper ’cause it’s all a part of me
How can I ever satisfy you?
And how can I ever make you see
That deep inside we’re all somebody
And it don’t matter who you wanna be?
But now I gotta smile I hope you comprehend
For this man can say it happened ’cause this child has been condemned
So I stepped into your world, I kicked you in the mind
And I’m the only witness to the nature of my crime
But look at what we’ve done to the innocent and young
Whoa, listen to who’s talking ’cause we’re not the only ones
The trash collected by the eyes and dumped into the brain
Said it tears into our conscious thoughts, you tell me, who’s to blame?
I know you don’t wanna hear me cryin’
And I know you don’t wanna hear me deny
That your satisfaction lies in your illusion
But your delusions are yours and not mine
We take for granted we know the whole story
We judge a book by its cover
And read what we want
Between selected lines
Don’t hail me and don’t idolize the ink
Or I’ve failed in my attentions, can you find the missing link?
Your only validation is living your own life
Vicarious existence is a fucking waste of time
So I send this song to the offended
I said what I meant and I’ve never pretended
As so many others do intending just to please
If I damned your point of view, could you turn the other cheek?
Don’t damn me when I speak a piece of my mind
‘Cause silence isn’t golden when I’m holding it inside
I’ve been where I have been and I’ve seen what I have seen
I put the pen to the paper ’cause it’s all a part of me
Don’t damn me
I said don’t damn me
I said don’t hail me
Don’t damn me
Smoke ’em if you got ’em
Alright! That sucked!

I understand everytime I hear this song, it truly is one of my favorite songs of all time.

If anyone reads this journal, just don’t damn me.

I was talking about genetics.  How is it we don’t get a DNA bump when we turn 18 that allows us to know this girl ain’t 18.

Oh how I miss Hannah Brannan. This woman was an 11 and she was 16 when I met her. I was 23. Thankfully her mother loved me.

Her mother put dinner for Thanksgiving and Christmas around my work schedule. 

We had a long conversation about life.

After that, Hannah was mine for the taking.

The first time I had no idea what her age was. All I knew was she had a perfect body. Even her feet were cute.  I hate feet.

We were on my bed and started making out, and then she pulled my cock out and started sucking me off.

When he had sex, I made love with that woman. I was slow at everything.  That’s whst having dinner should be. I went down on her for close to an hour every time we made love.  She returned the favor.

My sheets were soaking wet after we made love, squirter.

We made it 6 months.  What a six months.  I’ve never tasted anything so sweet in my 100 years to this day. 

It’s because of the hormones that Incubi and Succubi crave the younger men and woman.

Such power and they don’t even know it.

I never fucked Hannah, I made love with her. There was no kink. There were two bodies intertwined in every sexaul position we could do using the Karma Sutra. 

That’s the thing, once I figured out I was an Incubus, I had time and took time to learn everything about making a woman orgasm. That’s what I feed on.

From what I understand we’re all, Incubi and Succubi, empathic amplifiers. What we take in, we have ways to give it out once we ramped it up. 

I never fucked a woman and she didn’t squirt all over.

And I fucked quite a few in my day, and one lucky lady will be my first in over 10 years. 

Now, I should probably tell the fucking story, no one will buy, but if this falls into other hands….

The last wife put a curse on me. If I can’t find one that I want, and I won’t have a one night stand. 

She was a witch and well practiced in giving curses. The last husband, he died from cancer. One dude she made him drink himself to death.

Like this fucking bitch knew what she was doing. Pathological liar and all.

Just don’t damn me, fuck me.

This is a fictional story by Max J. Clayton.

Strategically twisted is something I never thought I would say about myself.  But if it works, it works.

How did I get so fucking twisted?

How many incubi are there?

That’s where it started, my mother.

Of course it has to mom, how fucking cliche is my fucking life. But, yeah it was that convo I had with mom when I was 17.

Now, I’m so glad my son isn’t one of us. I couldn’t bare it.

Yo son, since you’ve had sex do you feel any different?

So fucking fuckety fuck glad my son never had to have that convo with me.

Mom had to be drunk just to have the conversation.  Nothing like a drunk bitch. My mom is proud of being a bitch.

This would explain the looks I got from women for a few years after left home. I thought it was just a womanly thing to do. I had no idea most of them are not looking to get fucked.

Most women don’t like it.  In bed they like it, but in general conversation, don’t call a woman a bitch.

I used to run that through my head to get a handle on it.

Don’t call women bitches.

Even if they are.

That and Tabitha. We hung out in high school and junior high. Tabby was pure bitch and she knew it. It’s why I fell in love.

Everything goes back to my mom. Fuckety fuck fuck!

My drunk mother told me what I am. That I feed on sex. At 17, your mom tells you that you are a being that feeds on sex, are you fucking kidding me. 

I don’t know who had the worst end for that convo.  She got drunk just to have that discussion with me.  I shouldn’t be hard on her.

I read that and wished I hadn’t. 

I used to be the dude that could turn everything anyone said sexual. Not a skill I needed to develop.  It just happened. 

For me in the early years, before I learned, women were a smorgasbord for me.  I feed on sex.  All I could see was how to get them into bed, and I was good at it.

Thank God I got into spirituality.  When I looked at how I had treated women, I hung my head in shame. 

By 25, when Tina found me, I had learned so much.

Tina was a 35 yearly old broad. Even she would say she is a broad. I don’t know how many dudes got a beating of their life instead of Tina taking it.

Dudes always do the right thing. No dude ever let’s a woman get beat because she won’t shut her fucking mouth.

If Tina could just shut the fuck up and not go for the jugular with her fiery words, many dudes could’ve been saved.

It was no surprise that lesser men that married her, beat her ass. I get why lesser men beat her ass. I dated her for 4 years.

I never even raised a hand in anger to her. In fact we could go to bed pissed off at each other, and I would run two fingers down her back barely touching her skin. I did this to remind her she could sleep and had nothing to fear from me.

She had a way of getting into your soul and it was if she knew how much she could hurt you with her words. Bitch and a half. 

When Tina found me, she had been watching me all night and I was to be her one night stand. The only reason she called me was to find out if I was that good, or she was that drunk.

Appearantly sex can sustain a relationship for 4 years.

You ever notice how well one can make you orgasm, the more of their shit you can take?

I did. 

This is a fictional story told by Max J. Clayton

I miss Paul Harvey. These kids have no fuckin’ clue who Paul Harvey was, but I listened to him with my dad. My dad had the world’s greatest patience, especially dealing with my mom.

He got her a night shirt that said “Spoiled rotten bitch.”

He knew what he was dealing with. I learned watching the master when it came to patience.  The fact that I lived, my dad had the worlds greatest patience. 

When I  was 14, my mother had called me a son of a bitch so frequently, I thought I’d give it a try.

“Yeah mom, you’re right.”

She got a puzzled look and then it snapped into place and she went on doing something else.  I laughed to myself.  Who has this story about their mom?

I’ve haven’t met another.

After dad died, heart attack, followed by a stroke. I really can’t believe she didn’t kill him. The other 2 husbands died during sex.

Think about it, what’s a bitch?

A female dog that wants to be fucked.

Anyway, after dad died, I told my mom “Mom I tell people I use the term son of a bitch as a badge of honor to honor my mother.”

Fast reaction by mom “You damn well better.”

Then later that day “It’s thee bitch. Remember that son.”

I could never forget. Over 100 years and I still remember. 

Yeah, I was talking about dad. He’s the one that I saw him give mom roses every so often. Not because he did anything, he was a hopeless romantic, and he loved my mom purely and truly. 

I thought that’s where the patience came from, but instead he was 1/8 Cherokee.  His great grandmother walked the trail of tears as a Cherokee medicine women.

Cherokee have tremendous patience, but once it goes, run and don’t stop.  Even God can’t help you. God will tell you “Fuck that, you pissed off a Cherokee, you’re fucked.”

That’s the one I don’t get. Why God made the succubus and the Incubus?

Was God high?

I doubt it but when we look at our lineage, it seems that we were the devils children.  When Lucifer fell to earth with a third of the angels following, they had sex with human women.

The Nephilim is what we are. It runs through families. So it wasn’t God and it was God in a roundabout way. Had God not kicked Lucifer out, we wouldn’t be here.

It was mom’s family.

So her saying she was thee bitch, well she came by it honestly. 

And Incubi and succubi never have incest. It’s in our genetic code, down to the DNA. Now I wish the whole 18 thing could have passed through the DNA, but oh well.

When I was 13, I noticed some of the girls my age were getting tits and I really loved their asses. At 17 I had sex for the first time.  My power had been revealed. 

Before I had no clue what I was, after, I could feel my abilities for the first time.

It was fucking weird as shit. I don’t know how else to describe it.

One day I couldn’t do shit. The next day, I got stronger physically, I could tell what people were thinking just by looking at them, I could use the voice, just above a whisper and I  could get anyone to do what I said, and stuff.

It was at that time mom knew. Her senses could feel that I had tasted my power for the first time.  We had a talk.

No one ever is ready to hear that one is an Incubus, no one. Hearing it from your mother, that fucked me up.

Seriously fucked me up.

This is a story, a fictional story of my own creation. Here’s who is writing, Max J. Clayton

The longer wait, the greater the pleasure. At least that’s what I tell myself.  But fuck if I don’t get fucking laid, I’m going to go insane.

So what if I’ve had more wives than I can remember, 3, but this celibacy thing is fucking wrong.

The last wife, hell, we fucked 3 times a day, everyday. Even when she was on the rag. In fact our first date was her idea. “How about a pizza and a hotel room?”

She was on the rag. Our first sex and she was on the rag.

It was the fact she was highly orgasmic, and a squirter that had me. Didn’t care she was a pathological liar, but damn she could fuck.

And she swallowed, and it was her idea.

Then it was when we had finished one fuck session and she asked me “Are you going to get over hear and fuck me in ass.”

What could I do, it was my idea of having it all. I did things at her request I wouldn’t do to a farm animal. 

Yeah, but the lying is what got to me, but I still fantasize about the sex. I’m an Incubus, I have a high sex drive that I got from my mom, and she got it from her dad.

My grandfather was fucking my grandmother 3 times a day until he was 74 and she died cumming. Grandpa is now in his 6th wife and over 200 years old.

I come by it naturally.  I do love women. I love everything about them.  I’d let most any women suck my cock if she wanted to.

If she wanted to. It would have to be her idea.

That’s what I am.  I could never force a woman to do anything. But if she wants it, I can fuck like a Greek god or the devil himself, and all points in between.

I’m a Incubus. We crave sex and use sex to heal ourselves, and it makes us live a very long life. Mom is on her 3rd husband. The other died and came as they went.

I get the whole forcing yourself, but I just don’t like it. I tried it a few times, but it felt all wrong. 

Give a woman patience to want you, and the feeding is exquisite.  I like eating well, well I love eating pussy too. But feeding off their energy is amazing when they give it to you. If one has to force it, it will sustain, but when it’s given, oh my fucking God. 

Patience and lust is a hell of a combination.