Frank didn’t know he could do it. In fact, since he had begun doing the clown gigs he’d never given the possibility any thought, getting fucked in the clown suit, that is.

The first time she’d come to see him and knelt in front of him to fish his cock out of the baggy pants, he wasn’t even sure he could keep an erection while wearing the Bozo stuff, but she had shown him there was no problem. There’s never been a problem with that, no, he’s been hard for her every time she pays him a visit. And she’s been visiting him at lunch now every workday for over a month.

When he first got the job, East Hanover, New Jersey, sucked as far as he was concerned. The mall was and is drab and murky. The kids who come to see him are demanding little brats with cute matching outfits from the Gap for Kids store. They pop the fucking balloons and kick him in the shins just for giggles, and their mothers or babysitters just laugh like it’s cute.

He’d been there almost two weeks when she showed up for his lunch break one day. She was maybe forty, he thought, well-dressed, a few flecks of honest gray hair in her head, very little make-up, subtle but expensive jewelry. He still doesn’t know her name.

All she told him was that she grew up in Chicago watching Bozo on television. And that she had always wanted to fuck Bozo. She told him that the first day she met him, the day she knelt down in front of him and sucked his cock.

The next day she was back. She just smiled at him when he locked the door to his little dressing room, turned her back to him and bent over, pulled her black wool skirt up to expose her naked ass, and turned to him and told him to fuck her. He did. Hard. Fast. And he got face make-up on her white ass when he held her with his gloved hands.

Since then he’s given her a key to the dressing room. She meets him there now naked at lunch. Sometimes her legs are spread wide and she’ll be playing with herself. Sometimes she rubs cut juicy fruit over her pussy and nipples. Sometimes she’ll masturbate for him to watch. But always he fucks her. Or she fucks him. It isn’t always clear who fucks who, but it gets done.

Bozo cums inside me, she sometimes mumbles through a smile. I’ve got Bozo’s cum in my mouth, she’ll say to her imaginary friend, Sheila. Fuck you, Sheila, you can’t have Bozo, no, no, no.

Frank just fucks her until she leaves and is thankful she’s got this thing about Bozo and that he can get is up with the clown suit on.

Being Bozo ain’t half bad.

copyright, 1999
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