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Message-ID: <30362asstr$990241802@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "Grey Mead" <greymead@hotmail.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} Kelowna (Oral Humor Clowns)
Date: Fri, 18 May 2001 23:10:02 -0400
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Kelowna
by Greymead (aka Richard Large)

I didn't mean it to happen.  Really I didn't.  If I'd had even the barest 
inkling that it could have happened, I would never have kissed that clown.  
Now look at me!

It was an office birthday party - one of the other girls was just turning 
twenty-one, and we had pitched in to get one of those singing telegram 
things.  It was delivered by a clown who did a little strip tease (toned 
down, since it was in an office).  He was sexy as hell, and I began to ache 
for him when he got down to his oversized boxer shorts, showing a very fit 
chest and a nice six-pack of abs.  When he ripped off the boxers, having us 
all convinced we were gonna see him naked, I was as surprised as anyone at 
the sight of a rubber chicken hanging from the front of his thong.  I 
laughed with the rest of the girls, but I managed to be be in the hallway 
"on my way to the restroom" when he came back out, dressed.  I said 
something, I don't remember what, but it stopped him in his tracks.  We 
stood, face to face, almost touching.  He smelled like greasepaint - I 
smelled delicious (I know because I had just refreshed my perfume for the 
occasion).  I reached for his arm with one hand and in moments he had 
wrapped his arms around me.

"Ever been kissed by a clown?" he asked.

I sighed and nestled into his chest, tilting my head back to invite the 
kiss.  He bent and his red-painted lips mashed my own.  His tongue slipped 
into my mouth and I ground my burning pussy against the bulge of his rubber 
chicken.  The feel of his greasepaint against the skin of my cheek as he 
licked my ear was the final straw.  I took his hand, hauled him into the 
women's room and locked the door.

We tore each others' clothes off frantically and sank to the floor together. 
  He rolled onto his back, pulling me on top of him, and nuzzled my breasts, 
smearing white paint all over them.  I took his prick in hand, surprised at 
its size and guided it into my hot and weeping pussy.  I sank down on him, 
thrilling to the feel of his hard cock slowly opening me and filling me.

Soon, I was riding on him, cumming almost before I had begun.  I stopped, 
body taut as I felt the wash of my orgasm fill my body, then sagged against 
his chest, kissing him.  That was when I realized that he hadn't cum yet.  I 
dismounted and bent to take his cock in my mouth.  He groaned as I lightly 
kissed the tip, teasing him, my fingers fluttering up and down the length of 
his beautiful shaft.

Then I sucked it between my lips.  It was huge, I felt as if my jaw was 
disjointing as I consumed it.  I felt the head push through the constriction 
at the top of my throat and was surprised.  I had never taken a man so deep, 
hadn't believed I could, but I didn't gag.  I felt the knob of his cock deep 
in my throat and began to milk him with my throat, mouth and tongue, 
determined to make him cum as he had never cum before.

All at once he groaned and tried to push me back.  Believe me, if I had any 
fear of jism, I wouldn't be sucking his cock!  I ignored his attempt to push 
me back and redoubled my efforts.  I was rewarded by a deeper groan as he 
loosed the first shot of buring sperm into my throat.  I cupped his balls in 
my hand and squeezed gently as he shot several more spurts, diminishing in 
size and force, and let him loose only when I was certain that he was 
drained.

I smiled down at him.  He smiled up at me.  "You may be sorry you did that," 
he said.

"Yeah, I'm gonna get pregnant, right?"  I kissed him, surprised when his 
tongue split my lips again.  I shared the little bit of his cum that I 
hadn't swallowed yet.  "I gotta get back to the party or they are gonna 
wonder," I whispered.

"Wait," he whispered.  But I was dressed and gone quickly.  I didn't want to 
make this into an affair - just a fun one-shot.  Sort of a 'wham, bam, thank 
you Sam' thing.

He shrugged as I opened the door.  "I'll drop my card at the front desk.  I 
think you will want to call me," he promised.

Men.  So damned egotistical.  Sure he was good.  Sure he had a nice cock.  
But he wasn't the end of the world for me!

When I woke the next morning, I felt funny.  Not sick ... funny.  I managed 
to get out of bed, tangling my big - no, HUGE - feet in the bedclothes 
pretty seriously before I finally managed to get to a standing position.  I 
looked in the big mirror on top of my dresser.  "Oh hell?!?"  The 
silly-sounding squeal that escaped from my mouth surprised me almost as much 
as my appearance.

I know I did not go to bed wearing greasepaint, but there I was, fully made 
up as a clown - something I had never done before.  I reached to feel the 
paint.  It felt right, but no matter how much I got on my fingers, there did 
not seem to be any less on my face!

And it wasn't just my face.  My whole body appeared to be painted.  My 
nipples were small red balls on my white tits - they were a perfect match 
for my red nose.  I touched one and was surprised to find that it felt every 
bit as sensitive as my nipples normally felt.  In fact, the touch of my 
fingers against my nipple caused a familiar warmth to rise inside me.  God I 
was horny!

I slid my left hand down over my tummy and suddenly became aware of the red, 
bozo like look of my pubes.  Two wild, red wings of hair swept up on either 
side of my pussy.  I pulled at it a little.  It was my real hair!  And my 
pulling was only adding to the heat I felt.  Without control, I felt my hand 
slip down over my juicing cunt.  I rubbed over the wet lips, slid two 
fingers over the top of the slit where my clit was hidden under its hood 
only to discover that my clit was no longer the small, retiring thing it had 
once been.  Red and bulbous, it jutted like a tiny cock from between the 
upper lips of my pussy.  And when I touched it, I let out another of those 
silly, helium-filled squeals.  It was super sensitive!

Soon, I was seated on the edge of my bed, engaged in serious masturbation.  
With two finger buried inside myself and the heel of my hand providing 
pressure against my enormous clit, I came over and over and was still not 
satisfied.  This was crazy!  I didn't know what to do!

I brought myself to another crashing orgasm and, while gathering my breath, 
realized that I should be at work in less than fifteen minutes.  I panicked. 
  What could I do?  I picked up the phone to call in sick, dialed the number 
and heard the machine pick up.  "This is Annie... "  I started, but the 
high-pitched girl voice just wasn't going to be believable.  "...'s niece," 
I improvised.  Annie is at my apartment today, and is very ill.  She asked 
me to phone to tell you she would not be able to make it today."   Lame, but 
what the hell could I do?

Half an hour later, the phone rang.  I was flat on my back on the bed, both 
hands busy at my pussy as I brought myself off for the however manyth time.  
I picked up the phone reflexively.  "Hello?"  That silly squeak again.

"Oh, hi.  You must be Annie's niece..." there was an expectant pause.

"Amanda," I supplied.

"Right.  Amanda, pleased to meet you.  Anyway, I have an important message 
for Annie, can you make sure she gets it?"

"I'll give it to her," I promised.  But she's real sick.  Depending what it 
is, she may not be able to do anything about it.

"Just a phone number.  I guess she really impressed that clown yesterday, he 
wants to see her again."

She gave me the name and phone number and hung up.

I went to the kitchen to find something to eat, opened the refrigerator and 
got distracted by a zucchini.  Returning with it to my bedroom, I licked it 
a couple of times to get it nice and wet, then began sliding it up and down 
my pussy.  Opening my pussy lips with my other hand, I slid it inside of 
myself and began pumping it while I imagined it as a nice cock.  When I 
realized that the object of my fantasy was the clown from yesterday, 
connections happened.  Reluctantly, I abandoned the zucchini on the bed, and 
returned to the phone.  I scrabbled for the number and phoned the clown guy 
- "Way Kool" was the name on his card.  What kinda clown name was that?  Oh 
well.  When he answered, I just launched into a tearful recounting of my 
morning.  He let me get it out before he started talking.

"I sure am sorry," he started.  "I didn't want to cum in your mouth, but I 
was so hot and you resisted when I wanted to warn you ..."

"What the hell does that have to do with anything?"

"Klown," he said.

"Don't call me that!"

"No, that's what it is called.  It's a virus."

"Right.  Why don't you pull the other one - it's got bells on."  I looked at 
my legs - on a morning like this, perhaps it DID have bells on!  Nope.  No 
bells.  Lucky thing.

"It is spread through the genital fluids of infected people.  You are 
infected now, and anyone who gets a mouthful of your pussy juice will take a 
chance on getting infected, too.  There is no known cure."

"Right."

"Look, you don't have to take my word for it.  Go look in a mirror."

"I have, thank you."

"Well, then..."

"Fuck you!"

"Okay - where are you?"

"What?"

"I'll come over."

"It was an expression.  You think I really feel like fucking you?"

"Probably.  One of the symptoms is an uncontrollable urge for sex.  Why did 
you think I was so easy to drag into the bathroom yesterday?"

"Because I am so damned irresistible?"  I doubted that - my love life was 
not exactly exciting most of the time.  "Oh hell..." I gave him directions 
to my place and hung up.

An hour later, he wasn't there yet.  I was growing desperate.  I threw on 
some clothes and checked myself in the mirror.  To my utter surprise, I had 
selected a Harlequin outfit - something I didn't even know I owned.  I 
looked in the closet again.  Columbine, Pierrot, all the classics as well as 
a large assortment of huge pants with hulahoop waists, ragged shirts with 
colorful patches sewn to them, Hats with flowers - even one with a little 
train that went around and around on the brim.  It wasn't just me that had 
been klowned - it was my whole life!


(http://www.geocities.com/greymead)
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