I sat at the kids table, sipping punch from an impossibly small cup when Pipsy the Clown entered. Her painted green smile hung from ear to ear and a small rubber ball clung for life at the tip of her nose.

“Hello everyone! I'm Pipsy the clown!”

The children roared in excitement, much the way children do after fortyfive minutes of sugar cookies. But then as Pipsy spoke, their wild electric energy suddenly quelled to silent agog. Pipsy was probably in her mid forties. She wore a red frizzy wig that complimented her knee high lace up clown shoes and a green dress that swirled above her knees as she pranced to center stage. Center stage consisted of an office conference room populated with half a dozen round tables occupied by twenty four crazed children.

I couldn't believe I was here. I was the elected token adult tasked to escort the company kids to the bi-annual Take-your-kid-to-work day.

“Go ahead Jeff. Show your employee spirit. You're going to loooove it.” Wendy said, grinning with the many teeth of a company human resources representative.

Wendy wore her title like god given royalty.

“Besides, this will count toward your yearly participation goal,” she proudly exclaimed, as if I was being handed a sacred present from the company.

I proudly accepted the offer realizing it got me out of the weekly meeting, where, ironically the topic was “avoiding work place responsibilities.”

So here I sat in the back of the room, the small cup empty, sticking to my lips and I swear I smelled kid fart. But as I watched Pipsy I was being transfixed like the children. I couldn't help but watch her body as she went into her routine. She was doing some type of performance art that looked like a chicken dance/shimmy hybrid. I'm sure it had something to do with her giant shoes, but none the less she moved pretty fluidly. She had a slight pleasing plumpness that started at her breasts, ran down to her waist then trailed through her legs. I thought she was cute and continued watching as her dress swayed helplessly from the overly exaggerated dance macabre.

Bzzzzzz Bzzzzzzz... my phone pulsated urgently.

“Hows it going with the kiddies?” -Wendy. The words glowed on the screen.

“Kids R fine, they like the clown. Who is she?” I quickly tapped out.

“My friend, we hired her 2 entertain kids. BTW U R missing a great meeting.”

“2 bad I can't B there.” pound pound pound pound. Happy face emoji.

My attention returned to Pipsy. She had a heart shaped face and her eyes were swimming pool blue; the corners were drawn with grease paint tears to give her a sad expression. I could tell she was probably ten years older than I was and probably had been doing the clown gig for that long as well. My mind got away from me as her boobs seemed to bounce underneath her top. I wondered what would happen if they popped out. What color would they be? Would they be painted chalk white also? Perhaps with rosy red bulbs covering her nipples?

I stopped immediately, realizing the company I was in. I was getting vaguely mad at myself for letting my mind go where it had been. This was a children's party! I told myself. But regardless of my silent transgressions, the children in the room were having a great time, laughing and hollering at her antics. However, I knew my tendencies, I had a big imagination and it didn't take much. I knew if I did myself I would get hard and excited like a school boy. There is no way in hell I was getting hard here. I pinched myself very hard on the knee.

That pinch also helped remind me, that I had a girl friend.  We'd been seeing each other for the past six months, however that's all we seemed to do. Just see each other. She worked in the safety dept and seemed more obsessed with the new ergo chair and desk set that she'd been talking about for weeks. I swear sometimes that gal cares more about bending at the knees and safety straps, than about us.

Pipsy's act was still in progress and she'd rolled out the never ending tea-cup gag. Holding the dainty cup with extended pinky finger and making an O shape with her thumb and forefinger to hold the handle. I watched the way she suggestively swayed the cup back and forth, and how good it would feel if... I pinched myself hard again.

She smiled wide and continued the rocking gesture, more and more tea poured from the cup and into the pot below. With effortless skill, and twenty seconds later, she was still producing liquid from the cup. She poured that tea like wine, as if a magical maiden was pouring nectar into the chalice of the gods.

What was going on with me? Why was I reacting like this? Did I have a secret fetish for female clowns that I had never known about? Was this natural? She was a probably a middle aged woman who slapped on funny clothes and makeup to escape a mundane existence. Why should I care!? Why was I drawn to her? Why did I find her sexy? And damn my knee was really beginning to hurt.

I imagined her in her real life, coming home after a long day of clowning. Pulling her red frizzy wig off and sending it across the room. She would look in the mirror at herself, and ask if she was fulfilled with her life? Probably not. I imagined myself entering her drab world. She would be slightly shocked at first as I walked in, but then she tells me her husband isn't home, again. I stare into her highly massacred blue eyes and put my arms around her shoulders, pulling us together. I bury my hands into the back of her neck and begin kneading her tense muscles. I want to to rub and cradle every inch of her into relaxed submission. I lightly kiss her lips and I can tell she is a little shocked and pulls back. I look into her eyes again so she knows I am OK. This time she tilts her head into mine and our mouths warmly pair. I press closer into her, my hand slowly moving from behind her back, and helplessly searching for an opening in the clown suit so I can slide my palm inside her polka dot panties.

Suddenly the real world screamed in my face. I am flushed and there is Pipsy standing right in front of me with all of the children watching. My face turns three shades of bright red as she speaks.

"I asked are you enjoying the show Mr. … Sir?"

"Why yes I am." I weakly eked out, in only the way an embarrassed person who was secretly thinking of sex in the wrong situation can.

"Oh good! The kids and myself were wondering if you were having a good time?"

I looked around and saw the questioning faces of twenty four children magnifying my shame to the power of ten.

"I think, I am..." Swallowing hard, "I am having a great time Pipsy."

Her smile was soft and her blue eyes danced. However, I couldn't help but notice her breasts that were now holding steady at eye level. Oh my god, this is some type of special hell. I felt like one of the bad boys in the room, who would have to be sent to the corner. Thankfully she twirled around to face the children again, and I caught site of her nicely shaped round bottom and her red skirt slapping against it proudly.

I realized I was in big trouble. But something was going to have change before the show was over. What had I gotten myself into? This was not cool! I'm not a perv and I shouldn't be thinking these thoughts. My mind became erratic thinking of exit strategies. Then, as if the phone gods conspired, my cell suddenly buzzed as Wendy, the matriarch, called for me. This is my chance.

"Hello this is Jeff" I said quietly.

“Hey Jeff! Is everything still good,? My baby sitting company man?”

“Yes, but I just remembered I have a... a. .. an appointment that I need to get to, like right sorta now. Could you please escort the kids back?”

“Why whats going on?”

“Oh nothing, you don't want to know. But I need to ah, get to my department, I mean appointment.”

“I wasn't notified that you had one.”

“Well it sorta snuck up on me.”

“Jeff you are acting weird, but I'll be right there.”

The sweat on my brow gave way and the mild hardness in my slacks subsided. Thankfully Wendy would be here soon, and I would thank her, then exit quickly. I knew if I played it right, she would understand. I would use the words “proactive” and “accrued PTO”. I knew she would appreciate that. Wendy was a weird company gal, with hair from the 80s and sweaters from the early 90s but in her own way she was still kinda sexy.

But none of that thinking for the moment. I was playing it straight. I watched Pipsy for a few more minutes and was restraining my sexual thoughts quite well. I was still dying to know the real woman beneath the makeup and clothes. Who was this strange creature? Why was I attracted to her? Who makes the sad clown happy? I thought. I wanted to be that guy. I wanted to bend her over her bed and slide my hard cock deep inside her, then after giving her a crazy orgasm that would run down her legs I would paint a big ole happy face right over that pouty one. She would never wear that sad clown make up again.

Suddenly, Wendy entered the room and bee lined straight to me.

“Why are you pinching your leg like that?” She questioned.

“Oh! I... I was- I hurt my knee and that's why I have an appointment at the Dr, because my knee hurts.”

“My knee would hurt too if you were pinching my leg like that.”

“Acupuncture technique I learned. Yes... I learned that you pinch something to take your mind off of something else that is hurting.”

“So now both knees hurt?”

Damn she was clever.

“Yes, but I am being proactive and using my accrued PTO to have myself examined.” I smartly said. 

“Yes you probably ought to have something examined.”

My eyes disappeared into her heavily patterned sweater and sensible skirt. Her hair flowed with metal band style gel, but inside she raged to the company machine.

“You know I appreciate how you always think of the work place, and if you wanted to stop by my office sometime we could talk privately about it. Kind of our own private work-review if you will.” She offered. 

Oh my god, I think the was queen propositioning me? She was being unusually friendly and I didn't know what to say.

“Oh never mind, I forgot," She quickly interceded, "You're getting safety lessons, I forgot.”

I laughed. “Yes I am... lessons on how to stay.. safely.. apart." I recited under my breath. "But I appreciate your proposal.”

Oh my god, I was just lusting after a clown, now the head of Human Resources is propositioning me, and my girl friend works just two halls down!

"I'll take over here Jeff.” As H.R. Wendy pulled me back to reality. “Thank you for going along with the kids. I know they were probably not real happy with Brenda."

"Brenda?" I asked.

"The clown, shes my best friend and I've known her for years, but she's always doing kookie stuff."

"No, I think the children really liked her, a lot. They really liked the thing she did with her hand and fingers and the O thing when the liquid kept coming out. I think she is really cute" I bravely added.

H.R. paused, "She would probably like to hear that.”

"She would?!" I probably shouldn't have blurted out.

"Well, look Jeff." She took a serious tone, "Why don't you tell her you really enjoyed the show, it would make her really happy."

"I will."

“Oh, if you're interested, I am having a small meeting tomorrow night, Brenda will be there.”

“What?”

“Were thinking of going into business together on the side. I would book children's gigs for her. I'm sure your support would go a long way. She needs it.” She glanced at me funny for a moment then continued, “Besides there will be alcohol, and alcohol makes everything better.”

And with that the clown show was suddenly over, I watched as the kids filed past me in procession, still floating on a sugar high, tethered to the long invisible rope of H.R. I smiled and waved, holding my coat at waist level. I turned around, and to my shock Pipsy was standing right in front of me.

"So, did you enjoy the show young man?" She smiled.

“I, I did. I was, I was waiting to talk to you, to tell you.”

"Oh?"

"Yes. You were amazing!"  I began to see a very happy face under the sad clown white. "As a matter of fact, I've never seen children so happy. In my life. You do a great job!" I was doing a horrible attempt at English speech. 

She smiled again, then moved in and unexpectedly kissed my ear. I felt her warm sweet breath against my neck for a moment, before it wiggled down my arm, along my stomach and struck me between the legs. All I could think about was wanting to be with this unusual creature. I couldn't lose this moment.

"Ummm.. Hey I hear you and Wendy are getting together tomorrow for a business plan and I have an idea."

An awkward pause nearly hatched, but she countered in surprise, "Oh? What exactly were you thinking?"

I was thinking about how badly I wanted to pull her tights off and lay my huge cock on her decidedly colorful pussy. "I was, umm... thinking maybe you two might ah.. need a website?" 

"Yes, god that is so thoughtful, that would be great!”

“We can talk about it tomorrow night.” I exclaimed gleefully, just barley staying within a lower male vocal register.

"Ok, but I will need to be in my clown outfit and make-up though, I have to... to put my mind in the right place."

A little odd, but who cares. "Of course."

"You don't mind? Meeting up with a lady dressed in a clown outfit?"

"No! Not at all. Plus Wendy will be there too. You know, in case I have some weird reaction to rubber bicycle horns and need H.R. to intervene."

She giggled and I felt suddenly brazen, "and there be will alcohol" To mimic Wendy's words.

"Are you trying to get a clown drunk, young man?"

I felt my face turn red. "No, No... I just thought, it's ah... not everyday you get to hang out with a clown girl.  A little wine might be a nice idea?”

She paused, but a moment later in soft tones, "I like you."

I believed she was actually flirting with me, so with a head full of courage. "I like you too Brenda."

"How did you know my name?” She said, looking a little stunned.

“Um- Wendy told me”.

“Oh... Ok, for now you must call me Pipsy. I like it better”.

“Oh OK Pipsy. So what time should I come over?"

“We didn't decide yet.”

"7pm?" I volunteered.

"Wait, I forgot... my husb- wait, no he's not ho-" She stopped awkwardly. "Yes that would work. I'll let Wendy know. The meeting is at my house.”

“You'll have to text me with your address.”

“I, I don't text. We'll have to do it this the old fashioned way.”

There was something charming in the way she said that. She quickly pulled her card from her pocket and jotted down her address on the back, then pushed it into my hand.

“Just look for the big tent, you'll find me inside.” She smiled.

I laughed as she pivoted to leave, then looking back as she opened the door, I said good bye. I stood in the conference room alone. Alone with my sanity, hanging like a carrot, bobbing, via a string on a stick.

***

The following evening, I arrived at her house, and though I shouldn't have been surprised, Pipsy answered the door. I guess seeing a clown at a children's party is one thing, but being invited into a house by one is a little different. If it wasn't for the sweet face beneath the greasepaint I probably would have been creeped out.

“Where's Wendy?” I asked.

“Oh, she had something come up and couldn't make it after all.”

“That's too bad.” Ok, I didn't mind at all.

She pushed a frizzy clown lock from her face and spoke, “So I thought, if you wanted to come in and sit down we could talk about the website stuff that you mentioned?”

“Sure. I'd be happy to.” I looked around the living room spotting various pictures and knick knacks.

“Would you like some wine?” 

“Oh god yes. I mean, sure I would. Sorry did I sound to eager?” My nerves were a little jittery. 

“Yes you did!” She laughed, “but I need some too. I'll be right back.”

She left the room and I watched her again as she turned. There was something so sexy about her body beneath the clown outfit. I looked around the room again, and saw a lifetime of memories sitting on shelves, hanging on walls and displaying on the fire place mantle. Before I could think about it to much, she returned, smiling and holding two glasses of red wine. I took mine and sipped.

“Thank you for coming over, by the way, I know I don't know you very well, but Wendy told me a little about you and you seem like a really nice guy.”

“I like to think I am.” I smiled.

“I really appreciate you helping me, trying to bring my business into the twentieth century.”

“It's no problem, anytime I can help a clown girl out.”

An hour passed and we laughed and drank. I caught myself staring into her eyes. Her face was kind and her features were gentle, but I could see a spark of mischievousness deep inside. The more we talked, the more the clown disappeared. It was becoming normal to chat with a woman wearing white and green paint on her face, but more so, it was her voice beneath that revealed her soul. I realized, I was genuinely liking her. I wanted to be in her world, I wanted to be inside her.

She laughed, “You know Jeff, there is something about you, I'm not sure what it is, but I feel so comfortable around you.”

“Well that's good? Right?”

“Yes, I feel like I can be free to express myself.”

“If your talking about the clown outfit? I don't mind.” I smirked.

She looked at me for a moment. “Actually, if you don't mind, I was thinking of taking it off.”

I'm pretty sure my face turned red, but my mouth continued independently. “You can take anything off that you want to. Oh my god, that's not what I meant. I meant- you could change into whatever you want to.” I felt so embarrassed.

She just laughed at me, “I see how you are! I was going to change into something more comfortable. I see where your mind is young man.”

“I'm so embarrassed.” I admitted.

“That's ok, Jeff, you-  ahh you make me feel good.” Her face began to blush. “I'm glad someone still finds me attractive.”

She got up and turned toward her bedroom “I'll be right back, don't go anywhere.”

I sat there on her couch, feeling dumb, but feeling excited at the same time. I shouldn't be having these erotic feelings for her but I was. What the hell was wrong with me? She was older than me, married, plus I have a girlfriend. But damn, I wanted to make love to her. I wanted to seduce her into submission. Then I realized, maybe “I” was the one being seduced. This made me even hornier. I could feel my cock growing hard inside my jeans and it was becoming a little uncomfortable. I took a moment to look around the room and regain some self control. I wasn't sure what to make of the situation. For all I knew she was taking off her frizzy wig and changing into a long dress. Getting excited was a bit premature at this point; and just because she didn't shriek in horror when I said she could take anything off that she wanted to-

Still the thought of her getting naked in the next room was pretty enticing. My eyes wandered around the room as random doubts flowed through my head. I saw pictures scattered along the walls. In front of the TV, I spotted another picture, and stood up to get a better look at it. I saw Pipsy,without make up, Brenda. She was quite a pretty older lady. Next to her a man, presumably her husband, together, smiling in a studio portrait. They sorta looked happy together. I have to admit my heart sank, and a moment later, so did my cock. What was I doing here? I wanted to help her, but it was because I was curious about her, and I wanted to have sex with her. But there she was, a different woman, in a picture with another man. "Fuck me." I whispered. Here I was, just moments before, as hard as a rock and wanting to fuck her so bad, and now I'm looking at a picture of her family. I can't do this.

I sat back down on her couch, and waited. Waited for what, I wasn't sure. She wasn't coming back. I waited longer and I could her some small noises from her bedroom. I didn't know what was going on, but I thought I'd better wait a little longer.

Finally my curiosity got the better of me. I got up and quietly walked to her bedroom door, it was opened by a crack and I mustered the strength to peak inside.

The lights were off but the moonlight poured in through the window on her. I couldn't believe my eyes, and I was confused. She was still dressed as Pipsy and appeared to be stroking herself beneath her dress. A moment later I realized she was also crying. I was in shock. I was watching a female clown masturbate while the real woman inside cried. The light caught the movement of her arm as it disappeared under her dress, quickly darting back and forth in pleasure. Her sweet tits were exposed to the light and her nipples were hard. She squeezed and pressed against them with her other hand.

I wasn't sure what to think. Her whole body begged to be fucked. But I was having trouble getting past her tears. It was a little unnerving. I knew what she wanted and needed, and I wanted to provide. I felt my cock getting incredibly hard again but I stood with anxiety at the door. I watched her fingers move, they should be my fingers, pleasing her, making her cum. If she was going to cry, I would make her wail in pleasure. I could tell she was wrestling with thoughts about her life, and I didn't care. I wanted to fuck her so bad I could taste her.

I called her name softly through the door, and she was startled.

“Shhhhhhh.” I whispered as she quickly pulled her hand from under her dress. I entered the room and stood in front of her quietly. I looked in her eyes and calmly unzipped and slid my jeans down to my knees. I know my bulge was pushing my briefs all over the place and her eyes fell upon it. She smiled, but I could see her makeup was running. I knew she was totally embarrassed, because she knew that I had seen her. She started to speak and I put my hand to her mouth

“Shhhhh” I said again, pulling my briefs down my thighs to rest on my jeans. My long hard cock felt the fresh warm air of her bedroom. I wanted her to see how hard I was, and what she did to me. She started breathing in short little spurts as if getting a emotional. “This is what you do to me.” I whispered again.

“Oh god” she said silently and moaned.

I brought my hand to her face, and gently placed my fingers over her eyelids and closed them. “Relax, Pipsy, and just feel me.”

I reached down sliding my hands beneath her dress and pulled her panties down her soft thighs. I raised her dress up and laid my huge cock on her pussy, my balls pushing against her clit.

She moaned again and put her arms around me.

I spoke to her calmly. “I won't do anything you don't want me to, but I have to admit, I'm so attracted to you it drives me insane. I know you can tell how I feel about you, and I think you deserve to be pampered. I don't have to make love to you and I would understand if you didn't, but if you want me to, all you have to do is smile.”

A moment passed and she seemed a hesitant, but then a moment later she smiled. “Fuck me please.”

To be continued?