Date: Mon, 9 Apr 2001 01:31:47 EDT
From: LOBSTER911@aol.com
Subject: The Party Clown

"The Party Clown"
By Billy Primrose
Lobster911@aol.com

This is a work of fiction; all characters are fabricated. Read this story
only if you meet all legal criteria and are aroused, not bothered, by gay
erotica, including sex with willing minors. This is an original work, no
replication is permitted without written permission of the author.

	As much as complex analysis and non-Euclidean geometry are
scintillating topics, really, after my junior year of college at a large,
rural university, my mind needed to breathe the air of interpersonal
communication.  The overwhelming amount of work heaped upon my broad,
albeit unsculpted, shoulders had prevented me from dating or even partying
on the weekends, so my body was ready for some R&R (romping and recreation,
what did you think?) as well. I kept my evenings free for hanging out with
high school buddies and clubbing in the city, while during the days I would
work as a clown for children's parties. I had some training in magic and
theater from freshman year, and enough people in my hometown knew me that I
could get quite a few gigs in the county based solely on recommendations.
	The pay was great, thirty dollars an hour, and in the first week,
with three parties, I made over two hundred bucks, all I needed to club and
go out for dinner for a couple of weeks.  Most of the children I
entertained were about seven years old, so I was surprised when I got a
call from a man asking me to come for the eleventh birthday of his son.
The boy had been at a party with his younger brother and had been impressed
by my work, and could I come tomorrow, sorry it was so sudden.  Yes, I
could come tomorrow, although the age made me nervous.  I like boys, love
boys, only the potent ones, so the seven-year-olds aroused me not, but an
eleven-year-old?  With miniature ears, and delicate hands and possibly a
beautiful high tenor voice barely touched by adolescence, the image of the
boy that already blossomed in my mind warmed me with a quiet chill.
	I headed to the party the next day. Unfortunately, I was thinking
about the boy so thoroughly that I did not realize I was driving well over
the speed limit. When the officer pulled me over, I had to face not only a
fine that would cost me some of the day's profit, but also the humiliation
of being ticketed while dressed as a clown.
	When I arrived at the party, the boy's father greeted me at the
door.
	"Hi, you must be William.  I'm Mr. Kuhn, Darren's father. It's a
pleasure."
	Mr. Kuhn was in his early forties, tall, well built, and with a
strong jaw. He shook my hand firmly, which must have felt ridiculous, as my
right hand was engulfed by a red, felt glove. "And this is Darren. Darren,
you've seen William before?"
	I was so glad he had seen me, and I could not fathom how I had
missed him before.  Darren was small for his age, short and thin, but had a
flawless German look to him, the same prominent jaw as his father had,
thin, blond hair combed to the side, cheekbones just decipherable, and
vibrant blue eyes. He said nothing, but grinned at me through his soft,
pink lips, and his eyes gleamed with a familiarity that made me solidify in
my goofy clown pants.
	During the party, as I performed my stunts and tricks, I did not
resist when Darren would put an occasional finger on my thigh, or try to
tackle me when I cartwheeled.  Pretty soon, his friend to my other side,
Robin, joined in the fun.  Robin was the polar opposite of Darren,
round-faced, with a dark complexion, dark hair, and deep eyes.  Still, his
beauty was flawless.  So, as fifteen sixth grade boys burped, farted,
pointed and laughed, these two pushed me around, knocking me repeatedly to
the floor.  My cock resurrected from a semester's burial to the antics of
the two boys.
	Soon Mr. Kuhn (he was divorced from Darren's mother, I had learned)
called the boys into the kitchen for pizza. I approached the man, and
reluctantly asked if my duties were complete.
	"Officially, yes," he replied, "But I would double your pay if I
could buy another hour from you." I readily agreed, not wishing to leave
the party, but entirely unsure of what he wished.  "Darren, come on over!"
he shouted, and Darren tapped Robin on the shoulder; they both hustled
towards us.  The boys giggled as they glanced from me to each other.
	We followed Mr. Kuhn upstairs to Darren's room, which was covered
with posters of Derek Jeter and Oscar De La Hoya.  Mr. Kuhn took Darren's
desk chair, while Darren and Robin flanked me on the bed.
	"I've heard a lot about you and about your interests," began
Mr. Kuhn.  "My son thinks very highly of you. He feels good when you're
with him, and I care a lot about Darren's happiness. Robin has been a good
friend of his for a very long time, and I want him to be happy as well.
Robin, too, holds you in the highest regard.  I want to see you make these
boys happy.  I want to watch my son in ecstasy."  My mouth went limp.  I
craved nothing more than the bodies of these two boys, but with one's
father observing? While on the job? Was this even what he was asking?
	My questions were answered when I felt a small, but firm rod
rubbing against my arm.  Darren's cock, through his shorts, massaged itself
between my bicep and tricep.  Darren's hands were on my shoulders, and as
he bobbed up and down, his shapely chin pointed to the ceiling, his mouth
gapes, and his eyes squeezed shut in pleasure.  I sat paralyzed, just
watching the boy move up and down.
	Robin slouched down and slid off the bed.  He hugged my leg, and
massaged my inner thigh, only millimeters from my robust scepter.  His
small, dark, hands feeling my skin and hair through the cotton of my
uniform.  Darren, pulled off my wig and nose as he moved about my arm.
	As I realized what was happening, I patted Robin on the head and he
crawled onto the bed, by the pillow.  I allowed Darren to sit on the bed
and whispered to him, "what would you like?" I was sure I would do anything
to sate the lust radiating from that beauty.
	"He wants a blow job," said his father, "and he wants a good one,
right now."  I turned to see that Mr. Kuhn was stroking a large,
surprisingly hairy dick that protruded from his fly.  "So do it, clown."  I
glanced back to Darren for approval.
	"Yes, William.  I want you to take my puny penis and worship it
with your red lips and hot, wet tongue.  I want you to receive me, to gag
on me, to consume me." I kissed Darren's trembling, warm lips, and allowed
his tongue to invade my mouth, pushing my own around.  My rod was becoming
painful, even in my cotton pants.  Robin realized this and unbuttoned my
suit, allowing my red cock to fly out, free.  I pulled Darren's shirt over
his head, and touched his hairless, erect nipples. I licked them each,
loving the feel.  Darren moaned.
	I then delicately touched his waistband.  I looked up for approval,
and Darren, panting, nodded excitedly.  I pulled down his shorts and boxers
with one swoop, and there before me was a small, perfectly formed, twelve
year old prick.  I started to drool, and my saliva dripped to his head.
Darren reached one hand around my head, and pulled me around his cock.  I
fit the whole thing into my head, just a bit down my throat, and began to
enjoy the sweet and salty taste of his baby pre-cum.
	Just as my tongue was starting to probe the velvety head of
Darren's staff, I felt my own penis satisfied by the warmth and wetness of
a mouth.  I knew that Robin had not left since he had stripped me, and now
his small mouth greedily feasted on my manhood.  I snatched his shoulders
and pulled them towards me as I dove in rhythm onto Darren's dick.  Darren
began to buck into me as he started to groan "Yeah, clown, suck me, you
colorful slut."  His almost hairless balls receded into his skin as mine
did the same.  I knew we were soon to cum, as my purple head continued to
abuse Robin's throat, and the boy only sucked harder.  Climax was imminent,
as bucking and sucking increased tempo, and a man-musk stench filled the
room.
	"Ohh, oh, God, Christ, Lord!" rang through the room, making out
mutual orgasm a fully religious experience.  I threw back Robin, as I
pumped my load all over his face, neck and chest.  Darren squirted into me,
not much juice at a time, but about seven servings to quench my thirst for
his boy-cum.  He became flaccid and slipped out of me.  I climbed, with
effort and weak knees, onto the bed and lay down.  Darren and Robin sat on
the foot of the bed, the former lapping up my semen from the other's face.
I closed my eyes to relax, and a smell of sweat not possibly from one of
the boys invaded my nostrils.  I glanced to my side, and there was
Mr. Kuhn, with a cock still not satisfied.
	"I'm gonna fuck you, clown.  I'm gonna fuck you so hard." And with
that Mr. Kuhn pulled up my legs and put his well-oiled engine up to my
puckered receptacle.  I had never been a fan of older men, nor of the force
that this one took, but I was hired and did not complain.  He shoved
himself through me with one rip that nearly sent me hollering, and the two
boys giggled as they came around to the side of the bed to watch, hands on
their little pricks, stroking.  Mr. Kuhn's hairy balls smacked against my
ass-cheeks with every thrust.  After a few he began to hit my prostate, and
my cock once again climbed in pleasure, combined with agony, I had never
had a man there before.  I seemed to release with each swipe of his ramrod;
my prostate was so scintillated by him.
	"Aw, yeah, ohh, oh yeah," Mr. Kuhn began to grunt as his face
contorted and I felt him swell inside me as he dove into me with one grand
thrust.  I was warmed by his hot cum, flooding my anus as his cock pulsated
within me, and at the same time, I released my second load of the day onto
my stomach.  Mr. Kuhn withdrew as he threw me my haunches and as I flopped
back onto the bed, Robin and Darren ran to lick my jizz from my torso.  The
two then retreated into a corner.  Mr. Kuhn and the boys dressed, and he
threw me three hundred dollars from his pocket.  "I wouldn't let my son
touch a cheap whore," he explained. "Now get dressed and leave my house."
	The three left the room and I hurried into my costume and scampered
down the stairs.  As I ran to my car, I heard Mr. Kuhn shout from inside,
"Who wants dessert?"