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The Clown: Part 1

A magically queer, erotic tale to make you laugh.

By Dick ButtersworthPublished 2 years ago 4 min read
2
The Clown: Part 1
Photo by Deon Black on Unsplash

The kitchen was dark and I could smell something sticky, I looked down and made out Oscar, my shadowy black cat, eating from a bowl of tuna that was bigger than her. I kept on moving in the dark and saw the glowing rectangle of the bathroom door, and it pulled me in. Before I knew it my hand rested gently on the door, pushing it open slowly to reveal my partner Eric laying on the floor, half propped up against the bathtub. His hands were on his belly and he was crying. “Oh my god,” I gasped as I knelt down to him, “what’s wrong Eric!?”

“Drew, first off, know that this is a dream, but it doesn’t mean that it isn’t real,” he answered through his scrunched up face.

“Oh. Okay,” I said.

“Drew don’t freak out,” he whimpered. His face then contorted even more and out came, “I’m pregnant!”

“What?! That’s great! You know I love kids, Eric,” I replied before giving him a big smooch on his tiny, snot covered lips.

“Well, the thing is….” He paused and let out a massive sob reminiscent of a poor child in a toy store. “It’s not yours!” And then more uncontrollable blubbering.

“Oh. Uhh… Wow.” I felt my face start to contort and my eyes become wet. I don’t remember the last time I cried. “Well, whose is it then?” Eric frowned and pointed to the bathroom door. “What? whose out there, Eric!?”

“I’m not pointing at the door, Drew”

With this I bent down and aligned my vision with his finger, and it was as if I became a rubber band strung around his thumb and pointer. I then shot forward through the bathroom and into the little golden picture frame by the doorway.

I had landed facedown in a patch of dirt. I lifted my head and saw the old, red barn, and then turned my head and saw him, that same silly hunk I had grown so used. That slutty, muscly circus clown with the enormous erection that seemed like it was about to burst out of his tights. He had been there, watching us pee for years, and I had practically forgotten that he existed.

“Sorry Drew,” the man-clown said with a shrug and a wink, “we couldn’t help ourselves.”

I then woke up, drenched in sweat, and Eric’s spot on the bed was empty.

I was (quite naturally) a little freaked out by this all, and couldn’t just lie there wondering where my (potentially pregnant) partner had wandered off to in the middle of the night. And so I slipped out of bed, feeling the cold hardwood floor bring me back to Earth. Yet without a thought my feet whisked me to the hallway, and once again I saw the glowing rectangle of the bathroom.

With an automatic reaction I reached out my arm and placed it on the door, expecting it to glide easily open like in the dream. But it was frozen. I then tried the doorknob. It was locked. I jiggled it a bit more. And then, “Hello??” Eric’s strained voice called from behind the door.

“Heyyyy. It’s me. Sorry babe. I was just wondering where you were.”

“Wellllll, I’m in the bathroom hun. What’s up?”

I instantly felt very dumb and let out a chuckle, “Yeh I know, sorry. Think I was still half asleep. See you back in bed...”I waited in bed for what must have been twenty minutes before drifting back to seep.

I had just been in Frank’s arms when Eric finally crawled under the sheets. In my dream I had found out the clown’s name was Frank. We’d been in his changing room, and I'd been kissing his neck while rubbing his ginormous, godly bulge. I had reached in those red tights, felt the veiny, arm-thick monster, and was just about to free it, when Eric’s long, never-trimmed toenails grazed my ankle. I reached over to kiss him and stroked his hair, and found that it was damp. “Why is your hair wet?” I asked.

“Oh, I couldn’t sleep so I thought a little hot bath might relax me.”

“I see. Did it work?”

“Oh yeh.” He replied smoothly. “Why are you awake, anyways? You always sleep like a rock.”

“Yeh, weird. I don’t know why,” I lied, not wanting to get into the bizarreness of my mind at 3am.

Eric was soon fast asleep, but I couldn’t shake the strangeness of it all. Maybe I’ll try a bath as well, I thought, and very quietly slithered out of bed for the second (perhaps third?) time. My entrance into the washroom, however, was not quiet. I managed two steps in before I fell ass first onto the ground. The tiles were an oily damp.

When I made it to the tub I pulled back the curtains, and the full manner of Eric’s bath was revealed. His extra-large, polka-dotted dildo stood at attention, suction-cupped to the wall under the showerhead, greeting me like the waving arm of an old friend. I drew the bath with a birthday cake scented fizzy-puck, melted into the sizzling water, and laid there. I laid there watching droplets, one by one, roll off the beast’s huge head. And I watched them drip slowly, so slowly, down my crimson toes.

(to be continued)

comedy
2

About the Creator

Dick Buttersworth

Writing fun, sexy stories for people who embrace their naughty bits.

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