Clowning Around


Alan pulled a strip of tinsel from his hair and surveyed the carnage. Decorations, balloons, and gift wrap were scattered everywhere. That was still an improvement from two hours ago, when the same decorations were darting through the air. All the kids had gone home by now, and the birthday boy, Jason – Sara and Dave’s kid – was conked out in bed. Alan scooped up an untouched piece of birthday cake and devoured it in two bites. Sara and Alan’s double clown act had gone down a blast, but after several hours on their feet, the brother-sister duo were beat and looking forward to getting stuck into a bottle of wine.

“Good job in there today,” Dave said, grabbing the Cabernet Sauvignon off the shelf. “The kids loved it!”

Dave was a tall man with broad shoulders and had a dark receding hairline. Once an accomplished athlete, the buttons on his shirt now strained against the pressure of his growing belly. Perhaps that’s what a mixture of beer, cigars, and six years of marriage to my sister will do to a man, Alan thought.

“Cheers, yeah, I’m glad it went down well. My sister is pretty good with the face paint, and don’t even ask me where she got the rest of this costume!” Alan replied as he posed, observing his colourful pants and sweater.

“Oh, yeah, and the two of you have been wearing that stuff for hours. It must be suffocating, mate. You know where the bathroom is if you want to wash that crap off,” Dave said, letting out a booming laugh.

“Good point,” Alan said, as he headed into the hallway.

The face paint didn’t actually feel too uncomfortable. Sara didn’t use cheap shit and was skilled at applying it. After all, it had taken her most of the morning to finish him. His sister was descending the stairs with pace as he approached the bathroom door.

“Jesus! You frightened me!” she gasped, laughing nervously.

“Just your brother,” Alan replied, “not some crazy clown murderer.”

“I should be proud. My costume design is so convincing that I don’t even recognise my own brother!”

“I know, right?” Alan said in agreement. “I don’t know how many times today I’ve had to remind myself that you’re my sister, not…I dunno… Harley Quinn or someone! You’ve outdone yourself!”

Sarah had painstakingly applied a matching face paint clown design for her brother and herself. It consisted of a white foundation down to the neck, then red around the mouth and nose, as well as a red and blue diamond pattern over each eye. She had applied extra eyeliner to herself, giving her those deep piercing eyes. Compared to Alan’s cheaper costume-shop clown suit, his sister opted for a more custom approach. She wore a tight fitting, dark red, long sleeve t-shirt with green baggy pants held up with braces, as well as some old emo style leather boots. The outline of her bra was quite visible under her top thanks to the plumpness of her breasts. For full effect, she had gone as far as to dye her beautiful blonde locks a silky green.

Why does she have to fuck with my head and remind me of Harley Quinn? Alan thought; a fictional character he had been jerking off to since puberty.

“Anyway, you’ll see your brother again soon enough,” he said, pushing open the bathroom door. “I’m gonna try get most of this stuff off my face.”

“Nah, don’t do that. Leave it on,” Sara suggested. “It’ll be a good laugh downing a few glasses of wine while in full costume, Bozo!”

Alan’s painted lips curled into a smile as he continued into the downstairs bathroom.

“Seriously? You’re going to wash it off? she said, pressing her hand against his chest while sounding slightly more than annoyed.

“No, I’m just gonna take a piss, unless you want to watch? Alan jested.

Sarah flicked one her shiny green pigtails at him, turned, pouting her ass, and made towards the kitchen. Her arms rose up over her head as she excitedly announced, “Wine time!”

Alan waited a couple of minutes for his semi to subside before letting the urine flow.


The three of them took their drinks through to the living room. Dave put some Jazz on before joining his wife on the sofa. Alan sat opposite them on a sofa all to himself. He took a slug of wine as he looked across at Dave and Harley Quinn.

Dave yawned as he put down his glass.

“I’m the odd one out here. I need to go upstairs and grab a wig or something,” he said, looking at his wife and step-brother. “I should go get my Batman mask.”

“Yeah, do! That’d complete the trio,” Sara said, squeezing her husband’s hand.

“I don’t even know where it is,” Dave cut. “Alan, how’s all going with you? Found a stable job yet?”

Prick, Alan thought, “I’m doing OK. Few bits of work here and there. The boxing classes are going well,” he shot back. Want me to show you? he imagined.

“Boxing? I might book a few sessions with you,” Dave said, patting his beer belly. “Lose a few pounds.”

“Sure thing. I’d be happy to show you a few moves,” Alan said. “Mates rates, of course.”

“Not at all. I can afford Bakırköy Escort full price,” Dave replied, smirking to himself.

Sara rolled her eyes and interrupted the squabbling men, “Are you still seeing Emma, bro? How is she?”

“Emma?” Dave interrupted, “I thought it was an Alice you were seeing?”

Alan went to answer, but his sister was faster.

“Alice was three months ago, Dave,” she explained, “Do keep up, my brother bores of them easily,” her gaze fixed on Alan, awaiting his response.

“What it is to be single and free. So, it’s Emma now? Well then, how is she?” Dave asked.

“She’s good. Met up with her last week for a bit. She’s stressed about her exams,” Alan explained.

“And I bet you helped her relieve that stress,” Sara added, draining her glass.

“Easy there missy. Look, the bottle’s almost empty,” Dave said.

“Then go get another one,” she fired back, stealing some of his wine. “Never mind, I’ll get it myself.”

Looking like Harley Quinn was one thing, but acting like her too truly confounded Alan. And his penis.

“Apologies, Alan. My wife gets a bit wild after she’s had a few.”

“She’s fine. My sister can handle her drink. I’ve seen her a lot worse, trust me,” Alan said, chuckling. He was feeling the alcohol now. “Go look for your Batman mask. It’ll be hilarious.”

Sara returned with a new bottle.

“None for me, thanks,” Dave said, moving his hand over his glass. “I’m sure you two jokers will have no problem polishing it off.”

“Joker! I like that. That’s who I am,” Alan said, laughing to himself.

“Nah, I prefer Bozo. You’re definitely a Bozo,” Sara insisted.

“Well, whoever you are, I’m exhausted. I’m away to bed. Don’t drink too much, honey,” Dave said, planting a kiss on Sara’s fake smile. “Bozo, look after her,” he said as he closed the door behind him.

“I will,” Alan replied, raising his wine and drinking.


Sara dragged her glass across to her brother’s side of the table. She filled both, and collapsed onto the sofa next to him.

“I swear, eleven thirty every night and he’s falling asleep,” she said, looking at the sofa where her husband had sat.

“Getting old,” Alan jested.

“In more ways than one,” she said in a morose tone.

“What do you mean?” Alan asked.

“Oh, um, nothing,” Sara replied. “Never mind.”

The Jazz record had stopped, so Sara got up and replaced it with her 90’s classics mix CD. Ash came through the stereo.

‘Oh yeah, she was taking me over

And oh yeah, it was the start of the summer…’

Before returning to her wine, and her brother, she dimmed the lights a little lower and danced to the music. The silhouette of her protruding breasts, slim waist, and bouncy pigtails caused Alan to cover up his emerging stiffness.

“Well, Sis. Shame about Dave. Him leaving kinda limits our drinking game options.”

“Oh, I think we can keep playing our little game. And the next time you break character, I’m going to smack you, Bozo,” she said, falling onto the sofa next to him.

“Ah, OK, Harley,” Alan replied, joining his sister’s charade. “But if you smack me, I’m gonna have to do something to you.”

“You wouldn’t hit me, would you? Harley is a good girl.”

“You can be very naughty at times. A real bitch even,” he said, pinching her leg.

A mischievous, red smile crawled across Sara’s face as she peered into his eyes. “So, was meeting-up for a coffee the only thing you and Emma did last week?”

“No,” he replied.

He watched the pretty clown drink slowly. One of her hands had drifted between her legs. The strangeness of the situation wasn’t lost on him, but he forgave her for pleasuring herself, seeing as her husband wasn’t providing her that relief.

“How many girlfriends do you have, Bozo?”

“None, Harley. There’s only one woman for me,” Alan dared.

“Oh, sorry. Let me rephrase that. How many fuckbuddies do you have?” she said, shifting a little closer.

“Hey! Enough questions about Bozo’s sex life. I think it’s your turn to talk.”

“Well, what do you want to know?” she said, the hand between her legs moving faster.

“How’s things going with Dave?”

“Come on, Bozo. You can do better than that! Ask me something more adventurous.”

“Alright, well, since you’re so direct, who’s Harley fucking these days?” he asked

“Oh, how could you! Harley is a good girl. Still a virgin, pure.”

“Liar,” he retorted. “I bet you have Fatman’s cock in your mouth every night,” he said, nodding to Dave’s empty spot.

Sara laughed as she rubbed herself harder. “Harley isn’t interested in his sleepy dick!

She kicked Alan’s leg, almost spilling his wine over himself. “Why do you have your glass between your legs, Bozo? Are you hiding something?”

Wine did spill this time as Alan pawed Sara’s incoming hand away from his crotch. Was he hiding something? Of course, he was. His erection was practically Başakşehir Escort boring a hole through the cheap clown suit. But it wasn’t like he was going to act on it, was he?

“You little slut, Harley! How much wine have you had?”

“Oh, fuck off! Not you too. Maybe you’re the one who wants to suck Batman’s cock, Bozo?” Sara said as she fell back into the sofa.

“Not my style, whore,” he said, pretending not to notice her jutting breasts.

“Well then, prove it and touch yourself, Bozo. You clearly want to, and Harley won’t judge.”

Alan didn’t go as far as to play with himself, but he no longer hid his impressive girth as it stretched the cloth of his pants.

Sara didn’t take her eyes off it as she spoke, “You still haven’t answered my question. How many fuckbuddies?”

“A gentleman never tells,” he said, wondering how far his sister would take the game. “Now, make amends and fill my glass, woman!”

She did so obligingly. Then seizing her opportunity, she lunged forward and grabbed his testicles. Alan spat his drink as he crumpled in pain. Her colourful, sadistic face was so close that he could smell the wine on her breath.

“You know what? You’re right. I can be a real bitch. Especially when my Bozo is out fucking every whore in the city.” Her thumb glanced off his solid shaft. “Ah, there it is. Your favourite toy.”

“Hey, sis, I’m not sure we shou-“

“Silence!” Sara interjected, releasing his balls. “Do you find me attractive, Bozo? Your cock seems to.”

“Sara, I…”

“Shush! Stay in character, Bozo,” she ordered, pressing a finger across his wine-stained lips. “Answer the question.”

Alan paused for a moment. Partially to let his balls recover, but partially because he knew a line was about to be crossed. He gazed at her coloured hair, pale face, and tight costume, drained his glass, and decided to see only Harley. Then he thought of that bastard, Dave, kissing HIS Harley. His fingers brushed her neck, glided her cheeks, and then flicked one of her pigtails.

“Yes, I do,” he replied as he plunged his hand between her legs, joining hers. “You’re beautiful, Harley.”

Taking another gamble, he pulled her forward with her pigtails and met her red mouth with his. Her hand clasping his covered erection told him his gamble had paid off. They kissed passionately for a while allowing Alan’s hungry fingers to undo Sara’s brace straps. Without a fly to unzip, and in her lust, Sara clutched the fabric with both hands and tore a massive hole. They stopped kissing while Sara glared at Alan’s fat, veiny cock.

“Oh!” she gasped; her eyes glued to his member.

Shit, she’s going to snap out of it, Alan thought, laying back into the sofa. The reality of seeing her brother’s blood-filled dick would be a step too far for her, he worried. A bead of precum oozed from the tip. Come on you fucking tease, touch it, he said with his eyes. He placed a hand on her back to try and encourage her.

“Is there anything else you can do with your hands apart from squeeze my nuts, Harley?”

Sara brought both of her palms to her painted cheeks and feigned an expression of shock.

“You want me to touch your pee-pee?” she said in a playful tone.

Alan nodded once, then sighed as her fingers curled around his shaft. Her strokes were firm and quick.

“I can barely get my fingers around it,” Sara giggled, “am I doing it right, Bozo?”

Alan groaned his positive feedback as he sat back with his eyes closed. Her other hand began massaging his balls.

“So, tell me, is Harley better than Emma?” Sara asked as she worked him, “No? Well, I simply must try harder.”

It wasn’t the tenderness of her lips nor the swirl of her tongue. It was the moment just before that; the moment when her soft hair swept his thighs and balls as she lowered her head. That was the true realisation that his sister was about to suck his cock.

“Oh, Harley,” he groaned, clutching a pigtail. “Fucking suck on Bozo’s big dick!”

Alan’s cock glimmered from the translucent shine of his sister’s saliva. The expression “get your dick wet” popped into his mind. Maybe the guy who came up with that was getting a blowjob from his sister too?

Breaking his gaze from the hypnotic motion of her head, Alan reached over and caressed Sara’s ass. His hand ventured down between her legs where he felt her wetness soaking through. She groaned as he pushed the cloth into her. He fought the impulse to yank her off when he felt her play bite his shaft. Sara sat back up and looked at him. A mixture of precum and saliva coated her mouth and chin allowing some of the paint to drool away. Alan kissed her as she tried to speak. Their tongues danced in the wetness. Sara stretched out on the sofa and pulled her brother down on top of her. Lost in the passion, he hooked the waistline of Sara’s baggy pants and rolled them down her legs. He left her boots alone. Sara smiled when he went to do the Bebek Escort same with her panties but found none were there. Instead, his fingers ran along her trimmed bush and down to her juicy womanhood. He used the middle and index finger combination to enter her.

“No! I don’t want your finger, Bozo,” she whispered as she yanked on his cock.

Heeding her words, Alan pulled his loose shirt off with one hand and tossed it over the sofa. He then positioned himself directly over her. He gazed into her dark eyes as Sara’s hands ran through his hair. Alan’s swollen cock hovered just above her starved pussy.

“I need this,” Sara whispered as her hands slid down his sweaty back, trying to push him into her.

Their chests pressed together as his cock broke through the frothing lips of her slit.

“Oh fuck!” she squealed, digging her fingernails into his back.

“Shhh, not too loud,” Alan warned, torturing her with his slow thrusts.

Sara bit into his shoulder just to stifle her screams. The pain made Alan ram harder. He lowered his lips to her ear.

“Oh my! Dave hasn’t been taking good care of my Harley, has he?

“N…No,” she eeked.

“That’s why you created Bozo, didn’t you?

“Hmmm,” she gasped, welcoming his quickening thrusts.

“Well, Bozo is here for you, and he’s here to please,” the slaps of their flesh becoming louder.

Alan drove into Sara with intent. With his balls ready to empty, he was happy to do what her husband could not. Scratch her itch and satisfy her womanly needs. With her eyes shut in ecstasy, Alan’s cock had brought Sara to a world of her own. But he wanted to look at her when he came. The intense fucking had caused them to sweat profusely. Both of them being partially clothed didn’t help. As he neared climax, his eyes narrowed on her face. Her hair was starting to mat on her forehead, and perspiration had caused streams of white and red paint to melt away, betraying the illusion. It was clear that the Harley he was fucking was quickly melting away to reveal his sister. His cock didn’t seem to care much. He had gone past the point of no return. Sara opened her eyes and a sharp look of concern crossed her face. Oh shit! My paint must be running too, Alan realised. Just then, a droplet of white liquid plopped onto Sara’s lip. The fantasy of Bozo’s cock driving into her was beginning to die as her brother slowly reappeared from behind the facade. Sensing the unease, Alan flipped her onto her belly and plunged her face into the cushions. He dragged her ass up to his crotch. His hard cock rested between the soft arches of her butt. He then sunk between her clammy cheeks and entered her from behind. He waited for her protests as her head rose from the cushions. None came as it eased back down, like a cat submitting to her Tom. Alan placed a claiming hand on her lower back and savoured the beauty of the body before him. Then he grabbed her hips and lunged hard to her moans of pleasure. A little disappointed that he wouldn’t be able to cum whilst on top of her, his strategy of “out of sight, out of mind” seemed to have worked on his sister. As far as she was concerned, it was seven and a half inches of Bozo ploughing deep inside her.

The wild swaying of her pigtails with every thrust was getting too much for him.

“Fuck me, Al-… Bozo!”, she screamed into the cushion.

Pounding harder, Alan bent over and filled each fist with a green rope of hair. Her head tilted back so much that he could almost gaze down at his sister’s cute, messy face. Her eyes stayed shut, but her mouth was wide open to release her orgasmic yelps.

“Oh, Jesus, Bozo!” Alan heard as her powerful squirts splashed his shaft and balls.

He let go of her handlebars, dropping her head back into the cushions.

“Oh! Harley, I’m gonnaaaa…!”

Streaks of thick, white baby batter plastered her behind as he pulled out to blow his load. He was reasonably sure he pumped most of it on her rather than in her. Their bodies heaved in unison as they tried catch their breath. Sara’s top had rolled up, due to Alan’s attempt at her tits, allowing a pool of cum to form in the small of her back. Suddenly, something caught the corner of Alan’s eye.

“Aaaaahhhh, ohhhhhh,” Dave howled as he ejaculated over the coffee table.

He stroked his five inches a few more times before tucking it back into his pajama bottoms. He looked ridiculous in his Batman mask, but the entire situation was a bit ridiculous. The siblings just stared at him in silence; The sister still bent over with her bare ass pressed against her brother’s slumping cock.

“Bozo, Harley,” Dave whimpered, “If you happen to see my wife, Sara, down here, could you tell her to come to bed? I’d appreciate that.”

He nodded, before leaving the room. Alan and Sara burst into laughter.

“That’s the most sexually active I’ve seen him in the last six months!” Sara snickered.

She sensuously grinded her nakedness against his softening cock. Streams of cum tickled her as they flowed down her waist.

“Oh, almost forgot. My friend, Sandra, you know? The one with the red hair. Anyway, she’s having a party next month and wondered if we could do our clown act. Interested, Bozo?”

She groaned as Alan slid two fingers into her gaping pussy and slowly withdrew them. He slapped her ass and headed for the door.

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