Creamy Clown Party

Nasty phone sex

 

You’ve never really had nasty phone sex until you’ve gotten down with a clown!  I know it sounds weird, even freaks a lot of folks out, but I haven’t run into anyone who can manhandle my muff like a maniacal, grease paint covered clown can.  I don’t think they’re very scary at all.  In fact, when I see a costumed freak that most people would be afraid of, that’s the one I want to bang the most.

Think about it like this; you know how they say that crazy chicks are great in bed?  Well, the same goes for guys, my dude.  When a guy is completely nuts and out of his gourd, you know that he’s probably willing to do just about anything in the sack, and who’s more crazy and insane than a clowny fuck fiend?  Get my drift?

Last night I went to a circus freak party where everyone had to dress as their favorite kind of carny.  There were raunchy ringmasters, long dicked lion tamers and topless trapeze artists galore amongst a veritable sea of rainbow colored cum craving clowns, myself included.  It was great, just the kind of sexy circus party you’d like to attend, with titties and cunts flying through the air and cocks slapping and slamming faces and holes in every corner.

There was one multi-colored, hobgoblin of a cock knocker I kept my eye on all night.  He made his way from group to group jerking the shit out of his junk, making sure everyone was rough fucking and not just fooling around.  I knew that he was the freak for me the moment I saw him throat out a fire eater, that can’t be easy!

I grabbed my terrifying, mouth-trashing target and took him out to the parking garage so we could scare some “normies” a bit to get our adrenalin going.  After a couple of pants pissing pranks, we were both ready for a hard hole bashing and my fuckalicious freak bent me over and started pounding my jolly jester right where we stood.  As he fucked me senseless, I didn’t realize that we were slowly traversing out in front of the cars as they slowly passed looking for a spot to park.  In everyone’s way, he stretched my tight hole out like he was trying to find a lost line of knotted handkerchiefs in there to pull out of me.

When an impatient driver honked to get us out of the way, my scary, snatch stretching stinker threw me right up on the hood and drilled me out hard and fast until he blew his hot and happy load deep up in me as he stared at the people inside the Jeep through the windshield.  If they didn’t have a problem with clowns before, then they probably do now.  

 

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