Gender: Male Age: 28 Location: Pluto (It's not a planet)
___ Introduction ___
A woman who recently lost both her children and her sister in a plane crash keeps her spirit up by helping her friends at church distribute Easter eggs to random city residents. On one stop, she meets a handsome wannabe actor in whom she finds a kindred spirit. This text contains cheating, sex, and Easter.
Written by Norton5
Monica's cell phone rang and she picked it up. "Hello?" She was driving her car down a city street, on her way to deliver Easter eggs to some random lucky person. This activity was out of the norm for her, but it helped her cope with her loss of a son, daughter, and older sister.
Jimmy had been ten years old and Janice had been only four. On a return trip from their holiday spent with their aunt Alice, Monica’s sister, and her husband, their plane had crashed due to foul weather and disruption of the aircraft's communication and navigation systems. Alice had accompanied them on the flight while her husband Jeff had been caught up in business affairs.
Monica banged her fist on the steering wheel. Thinking about the crash made her angry and filled her with despair. This was not a good habit when she was driving.
She felt guilt for the loss of her and her husband Matt’s children and the loss of her sister, the wife of a loving business executive. Her marriage had been negatively affected by the event. Her husband had withdrawn into himself and was not as supportive of her as he used to be. Maybe he blamed her. It hurt to think that he did, even though he never said anything about it. Oh, Matt, I’m so sorry. Jeff, please forgive me. It’s all my fault.
“Monica?” It was Lorna from church. She was the one organizing the free distribution of Easter eggs to residents within their city section. Some of these people might end up coming to church on Sunday so why not be the first to reach out? It made sense. Plus, it helped to spread some cheer to the world in a little way like this. And it also helped her to see the smile on peoples’ faces when she presented them with a free gift in goodwill.
“Have you reached 41st Roosevelt?”
“Roughly two minutes away. It’s not a good habit to be on the phone and driving at the same time.”
“Never mind that.” Why, such a nice Christian woman considerate of road safety. “I want you to change your route to 42nd. House number twenty-eight. There’s a man there who was suicidal and caused an incident. We should reach out to him with some chocolate goodwill.”
“Alright, so who do I have to cross off on my list, now that we’ve added this dude?”
“I don’t care, cross off any, though the last stop on the list would be preferable.” Monica crossed off the last stop on the list.
“Okay. Is that all?”
“Yep. Thanks, Monica. We’re all happy that you decided to join forces with us on this venture and we hope it’s doing you some good.”
“It is actually. Thanks for letting me in on this.”
“My pleasure. Drive safely. Bye.”
The man who answered the door of house number 28 had an inch-thick beard and wore a clown suit. He smiled when he saw Monica holding up a cheerfully decorated paper basket filled with a wide variety of Easter eggs. He wasn’t just looking at the chocolate eggs. Monica’s shapely body was the main target of his smile and roving eyes.
“Hi. I’m Monica from the United Glorification Church. I work with a small womens group within the church and we’ve decided to include your house on a list of recipients who will be receiving free Easter eggs to raise your spirits in remembrance of the true meaning of Easter.”
“And that would be?” said the man, smiling and receiving the basket Monica.
“What would the true meaning of Easter be?”
“Well, uh…” Think, think! Remember what they taught you in Sunday school. Grrrr! Yess! “Of course, the true meaning of Easter is the salvation of the world through the sacrificial death and resurrection of Jesus Christ.”
“Huh. Okay. You want to come inside?”
“No. I have to go deliver more of these eggs to some other people in need of cheering up.”
“Oh, if that’s why you brought me these eggs, then you can have them back. I’m already happy. Can’t you see I’m dressed as a clown?”
Okay, this is new, thought Monica. I shouldn’t have mentioned cheering people up. Shit. “We’d like you to have them anyway.”
“Why do you say ‘we’? There’s only one of you.”
“I’m with a group of other women doing this.”
“But it’s just you delivering these eggs to me, so why can’t you say ‘I want you to have these eggs’? Are you afraid of being singular?”
Oh, brother. Holding up her hands in front of her, she declared in a tone several notches below friendly, “Look, I’m not really a Christian, okay? I’m just helping out a few of my friends at church, so make my job easier and just take the eggs. Stop being so pervasive.”
The man looked slightly funny in his clown suit as he took on an argumentative stance and tone of voice, “Me being pervasive? Aren’t you being pervasive by telling me to stop being pervasive?”
“God, what is it with you people!”
“Hey, you just said the LORD’s name in vain.”
“You know what? You don’t deserve these eggs. To think I changed my route just to give these to you.” She reached out to take them from him, but he retreated two steps back into his house.
“Oh, no, you don’t. These are my eggs. You gave them to me, and I intend to keep them.”
“Fucking clown freak!” she said harshly and walked back to her vehicle.
To her retreating back, he called out, “Hey, that’s very un-Christian of you, calling me that. Clowns are people too you, you know. We have feelings, and they can be hurt.”
Monica saw him wave at her with a manic smile on his face as she drove out of his street. She delivered the rest of the egg baskets, but the thrill was most certainly gone.
The following Sunday, Monica sat in church and watched as people greeted each other and left for their cars after the service. Lorna spotted her and took her aside.
Looking deep into her eyes, Lorna and said, “Someone called the pastor's office on Saturday and made a complaint. They identified you and said you spoke some very harsh un-Christian-like words to them after dumping a basket of Easter eggs on their front doorstep.” Fuck, thought Monica. That maniac clown.
Lorna continued, “He also said he wouldn't make a fuss over it, if you attended a performance at the Golem Fraternity Auditorium on Monday, that's tomorrow. The time he gave was six-thirty PM.”
“That sounds like blackmail, Lorna. You can't let that creep do this to me.”
Lorna made a calming gesture and asked, “Did you or did you not say one or two inappropriate words to this man?”
Monica twisted her head from side to side and said, “Okay, I might have said something like 'fuck you' or 'go fuck yourself' or 'fucking creep clown' or something. I forgot whatever it was.”
“But you definitely used the f word in an antagonistic manner?”
“Yeah, I think.”
Lorna sighed and closed her eyes. She was silent for a moment, before she spoke again. “I'm going to have to let you go from our door-to-door free Easter egg giveaway activity. I can't risk getting our church into more bad light with you out there ready to verbally attack people you find disagreeable. We're supposed to be messengers of the Good Word, not messengers of hate.”
Monica became watery-eyed with a fixed jaw-clenched frown. She wiped what she thought was a tear, but the tears came after her hand left her face.
“Thanks, Lorna. I'll be adding the loss of this job to the loss of my children and sister. I'm going to go home and mope now. Bye.”
Lorna called after her, but she kept walking until she was out of the church entrance, and walking to her car.
With a disinterested husband and nothing to do after work, Monica said, “What the hell,” and stepped into the shower room to freshen up herself before driving to the Golem Fraternity Auditorium.
She saw roughly fifty people lingering around in the hallway after the entrance of the auditorium. They were checking out posters of live amateur performances. Tonight's feature was a comedy horror titled 'Clowns Night Out'. From reading the synopsis, she made out the basic storyline: a bunch of clowns go on a murder spree in the suburb. Fun.
By six-twenty, there were only five people mingling about and a few latecomers walking through the entrance area. The show would be starting on time, it seemed like. Monica made her way into the inner sanctum.
The seating area was dim red-orange lit and Monica found a seat in the middle row. There was digital light works on display on a large white screen behind the stage below. This was interrupted every five minutes by a silent five-second commercial. Keep the sponsors happy.
A good number of people had gathered here for this presentation. Monica estimated over four hundred heads. She also noticed auditorium employees giving out free handfuls of small Easter eggs to the audience. The sight made her cringe a bit, thinking about being let go from that little piece of goodwill activity.
An auditorium employee stopped by her and gave her a handful of Easter eggs. “Enjoy the show, ma'am. Happy Easter. Jesus loves you,” said the man.
“Thanks,” said Monica, loving the feel of the eggs in the palm of her hand. The man returned after two seconds and pulled out a sheet of folded paper from his breast pocket. “Oh. You must be Monica. Does that look like you?” He held out the paper for her to see.
It was a slightly cartoonish, yet uncanny, pencil sketch of her face, neck, and shoulders. “Probably,” she said.
The man reached down into the box he carried, and gave her a transparent plastic foil twisted at the top. Inside the foil was contained three large Easter eggs, one in red foil, the other in blue, and the third in gold. They were each ten inches long and five inches around. “Holy cow,” said Monica.
“One of the actors told me to keep an eye out for you and give you these if I saw you. Glad I did. For what it's worth, I think you're way better looking than the sketch he drew.”
Monica thanked him and settled back to watch the show. The lights went out after a minute and she got to watch one of the wildest and funniest live amateur theater performances she had ever seen.
After the show, everyone gathered in the large hall outside to get a piece of the cast and director. Monica noticed that she was probably the only person who didn't get a booklet that went with the presentation. Someone dropped theirs on the floor and she picked it up. Opening it, she saw the photos and profiles of the director and cast. She also recognized the man who she had delivered the egg basket to. His name was -
“Darren Boorman. Miss...?” Monica looked up and saw the clown standing before her, except he wasn't a clown anymore. He wore a brown shirt and gray pants that fit him nicely. He wasn't muscular, but he looked strong, holding out his hand to her. Monica looked at it and up to his face. He looked at his un-taken hand.
After a dreadful moment, she took it and said, “Mrs. Heller.”
“Mrs. Heller. No Miss, rather a direct hit. Bulls-eye.”
Monica didn't laugh at his attempt at humor. He asked, “Did you enjoy the performance?”
She lied, “Clown horror isn't my cup of tea.”
Darren shook his head, “Of course, not, and besides, you look like a coffee person.” Monica smiled.
He asked her if she would have a nightly cup of coffee and munchies at a nearby diner with him and his co-stars and director. She agreed, saying it would be a different experience hanging out with minor, temporary celebrities. To which, Darren replied, “Hey, I may be small-time here, but I'm big in Europe.” Monica finally laughed.
Dinner with Darren and his pals was the most fun Monica had had in a long time.
The warm and hilarious time wound down to a close, and as members of his group began shuffling off, Darren quietly asked her if he would sound like an awkward clown creep asking to take her back to his place for a late night drink. She told him, since she already knew he was a creepy clown, it would be okay.
They drove back to Darren's house and parked their cars in the driveway.
“Remember that spot?” said Darren pointing at his front doorstep as they walked toward it. Monica giggled. She thought, this is so wrong.
Darren stopped at his front door and put his key in the lock. Turning to Monica, he said, “Last chance to back out, Mrs. Heller. The neighborhood watchdog, Mrs. Figgle, is watching from the opposite house. I wouldn't try anything funny with her eyes on me, so this is the safest time to walk away.”
Monica turned and saw the silhouette of a woman watching from her front window. The woman waved, but kept watching. Monica grinned, turning around to face Darren again, “What kind of drinks do you have in your house?”
“Non-alcoholic beverages only, I'm afraid.”
“Good. I only drink those.”
Darren's house was very comfortable and homely, though littered with actor's make-up, costumes, and props of all sorts. Monica sat on a wooden stool and it collapsed under her weight. Darren apologetically lifted her up to her feet and said, “That was the chair, not your weight. It's a prop. Remember those old movies where a fight would break out and guys would break chairs on their opponents' bodies? That's one of those.”
“Cool.” He pointed her to the couch and she sat there, while he went into the kitchen and brought back two cold bottles of Vault. Monica said, “I've only ever had one of these. I'm a big Mountain Dew fan and I thought it was competition.”
Darren nodded, “It is, but I think Mountain Dew has kept its drinkers satisfied enough. Don't worry. A second one won't turn you into a Vault addict.”
They sipped in silence for a minute.
Monica turned in the couch and attempted unsuccessfully to looked out the window. “I wonder if Mrs. Figgle is still watching your house.”
“Oh, she is. I'm sure of it. I don't mind either. One time, I received a phone call from her at two in the morning. She says, 'Hey, neighbor guy. I see two guys trying to break into your house. I've called the cops and have just let out my dogs to rip the sons of bitches to shreds.' I was glad when the cops came, otherwise, those unlucky burglars would have been mauled to death. Ever since then, Mrs. Figgle has been like the tolerated creepy friend I never had.”
“Wow. Great neighborhood.”
Darren draped his arm on the top of the couch and said, “So what's Mr. Heller doing at this moment?”
“Most likely moping at home, watching television, doing his own thing.”
“Waiting for you to come back?”
“Things have been cold between us ever since we lost our kids.”
“Oh, I'm so sorry I asked.” He had a stricken look on his face.
“It's okay, I mean, it's been a while now, and the pain is not as much as it was at first.”
She closed her eyes, clenching her fist into a tight ball resting on her thigh, and it turned white as paper. Darren reached over and stroked her forearm, going down to her fist. It loosened and she allowed him to interlock his fingers with hers.
Looking into his eyes, Monica scooted over closer to him and he put his arm around her. They could smell each others breath and that caused them to draw even closer until they were deeply exploring each others mouth.
Monica moved into Darren's embrace and he pressed her more firmly against his strong body. She moaned a desperately into his mouth and he understood her need; it fit perfectly with his desire for her.
She gasped as he pushed the couch and it shifted, forming an adult-sized crib of sorts. “Whoa,” she said. Darren smiled, “This is a prop I bought for a very low price from a friend of mine who worked in the adult film industry.”
“Was he a porn star?”
“No. He was a make-up artist.”
They stripped off and flung their clothes onto the floor, for the moment, not caring about the fact that their Vaults had spilled onto the carpet and were soaking the discarded attire.
Monica looked up at Darren, her eyes filled with passionate lust and need for fulfillment, as he positioned himself on top of her. “Ravage me,” she said.
“That sounds sort of rough.”
“I want it very rough.”
He penetrated her, sinking his cock balls deep into her vagina, and fucking her hard for twenty-eight minutes until she screamed for him to stop. “I'm sorry,” he said, slowly pulling out, but she stopped him. “No, don't. Leave it inside me. Just go slow for now.”
They kissed passionately and deeply as Darren slowly pumped Monica's pussy with his cock, his pelvis softly banging down onto hers for twenty-three minutes.
When she grabbed his buttocks and squeezed, making him press firm into her, he understood that she was ready for more roughness. Darren placed his hand beneath her buttocks and pulled it upwards while he rammed down his cock into her cunt for eighteen minutes.
Monica put her arms around his back and opened up more to him, allowing him to go harder and faster into her, even more deeper with less obstruction. They looked into each others eyes as their pelvises and genitals collided, trying to see emotion or some remnant of personality rising to the surface, but that proved irrelevant. They were in the heat of erotic engagement and nothing else mattered other than the satisfying of their lust and sexual drives.
As their love-making got slower and surprisingly more accurately synchronized, Monica said, “Thank you for the Easter eggs.”
Darren looked down at her, surprised by the statement, and laughed. Then they both climaxed and kissed each other sloppily with saliva and sweat.
As they broke their bodily embrace, Darren pulled his cock out and laughed. “Damn, will you look at all that cum?” Monica looked down and saw his cock dripping and coated with thick whitish gray cum that was almost silver. Her pussy also was leaking with near-silver cum.
She told him to push his cock back in. He did and they both watched as his their organs connected and made a squishy sound. “That looks and sounds so good, Darren. Let's do more of it.”
Holding her legs apart, he pushed his cock in and pulled it completely out of her vagina repeatedly for over a hundred times. They didn't tire of watching and hearing their sex organs interact with each other.
Finally, they lay side by side in the adult crib and fell asleep.
Morning came and Darren woke up first. When Monica woke up, she could smell bacon, eggs, and toast in the kitchen. She also realized that she had not returned home the other night. Matt would be worried, even worse, suspicious. Shit.
She scrambled out of the adult crib and picked up her clothes. Ugh. They were drenched with Vault.
“Hey, beautiful.” She looked up and saw Darren in light green boxers.
“Hi. My clothes are soaked.” She pointed at the pool of soft drink and their clothes.
He nodded, “Don't worry about it. I'll grab you something from Walmart.”
“You don't have to...”
“Okay, but it's a lot quicker if I make a run, rather than if you tried to wash those.”
Seeing the sense in what he was saying, she nodded and said, “Alright. Get me something from Walmart.”
“My pleasure. Now, you have to take a shower and then come back right here into the kitchen. I've got some breakfast ready for you.”
“Mmm,” she said happily and went to take a shower.
When she got out of the shower, she entered the kitchen with a towel wrapped around her. “No clothes,” she said, pouting.
“Let me fix that,” said Darren. He took off his boxers and removed her towel so they were standing naked in the kitchen. “How's that?”
“Wow, I would never have thought of that,” she said in mock admiration.
“Yeah, I'm a genius, you know.”
Coming up behind him, Monica embraced Darren from behind, pressing her boobs into his back and resting her head against it as well. She moaned in appreciation of his body and her desire for him. He turned and picked her up, allowing her to wrap her legs around him. Her mouth came down to his and they locked lips, once more orally interacting with each other. Then she bent backward in his grasp and he leaned forward to feast on her exotic fruits (boobs).
Darren sucked tentatively on each nipple and drew rich milk, loving the natural, unprocessed taste. He set her on the kitchen counter and they kissed fondly into each other for ten minutes. After that, he fed her toast, bacon, eggs, cereal and milk, an apple, and coffee.
“That was a wonderful breakfast, Darren. Thank you so very much.”
“I enjoyed every second of it. You want to wait here while I go get you your clothes?”
“Where else am I going to go? Mrs. Figgle's place? Does she like hanging out with nude women.”
“Probably not such a good idea.”
They kissed some more before Darren left the house.
When he got back he had with him several sexy short skirts (stopping at mid-thighs), underwear, button shirts, t-shirts, socks, and boots (plus other things she had told him by phone to get). “How do you like these?”
“I think you're turning me into a boy's fantasy, rather than just helping me out with clothes.”
“You already are a boy's fantasy. I'm just making you more real.”
Monica laughed and put on some of the clothes he got. When she was done dressing, he whistled and looked her up and down. “Magnificent.”
“Thanks. I'm making me horny just looking at myself like this.”
“Not as horny as I am right now.”
She saw the bulge in his pants and smiled, stripping off the clothes she had just put on. Darren stripped as well, and this time, he took her to his room.
Darren covered her with his body as she lay on her breasts on top of his bed. He angled his head to the side and kissed her, gently humping his cock between the mounds of her buttocks.
Rolling himself off her, she got on top. Straddling his waist, Monica pushed his cock gingerly into her anus. “Ohh, yes,” he said as he felt his length squeeze into her asshole, her sphincter contracting and giving him megawatts of pleasure.
Slowly, she bobbed up and down on his cock, feeling the length of his shaft slide vertically through the ring of her anus. Monica moaned, giving Darren a look of intense wrongful pleasure. He shut his eyes and moaned as well when she increased the rate of anal penetration on his cock.
In under a minute's time, Monica was pumping her ass full of Darren's cock, fast and deep. She made a constant moan of pleasure that fluctuated depending on how his cock tickled the nerve endings in her ass. She bit her lower lip and ass-fucked herself harder on his cock.
Darren stopped her movement and braced her buttocks in his hands, squeezing them tightly just before he rapidly fucked her ass deep with his cock, balls slapping hard and fast against her buns until his testicles ached from the hammering and the production of more semen. He shot two loads of cum into her bowels, before she pulled his cock out of her ass and plugged it into her pussy.
Grabbing her hair, Monica rode his cock expertly, slinging her pussy so well and contorting it to match the angle of his upward thrust. Darren grabbed her hips firmly, lifting her slightly an inch above him, and rapidly pounded his cock upwards into her cunt, drilling her with the full length of his cock meat and hitting her labia with his ball sack.
Monica bucked on top of Darren for thirty minutes and came three times, while he came twice. He pulled her down toward him and they embraced tightly, kissing with wild abandon, her cunt still plugged full of his cock.
Darren made them lie facing each other horizontally. Draping a leg over his thigh, Monica guided his cock into her pussy and he took hold of her hips and ass. She felt his meat rod slide into her pussy, filling it perfectly, and beginning its thorough drilling of her womanhood. Biting her lip, she looked into his eyes and held his gaze for nineteen minutes as he plowed into her depths with affectionate skill.
Her eyes lost focus and he fucked her faster and harder, knowing she was about to climax in the next seconds. She came in a wave of relief and gasping. Darren pressed his forehead to hers and whispered a joke. She laughed and they locked lips in a long passionate kiss.
After their morning love-making, both of them took a shower together, hands rarely loosing contact of the others body. Darren rubbed the soap all over her and scrubbed her thoroughly, after which, she did the same for him. They let the water fall over and around them, cascading over their naked bodies, rinsing them, while they kissed in a tender caressing embrace in the shower.
Finally standing facing each other at the front door, Monica hugged Darren and said, “You're so sweet, Darren. I wish we could be together on a more permanent basis.”
“Leave your husband and marry me then,” he offered.
“I don't think now will be a good time. He's still down and out from the loss of our kids.”
“Okay. I don't want to make any unnecessary waves. He's probably a great guy, since he managed to snag you for himself.”
“Well, you managed to snag me too for one night.”
“Too bad I can't snag you again.”
“You'll get more chances, I promise.”
She parted with a soft lingering kiss. As she pulled out of his driveway and drove away, Darren waved to her from his doorstep with a manic smile on his face as he had on their first encounter. This time she waved back smiling and there were tears glistening in her eyes.
A month later, Matt was sitting with his laptop on the dining room table. Monica was doing the dishes in the kitchen and he said to her, “I'm on Yahoo! News, honey. Listen to this. There have been a series of home invasions in the city committed by a gang dressed up as clowns. What they've been doing is, they break in while the residents are still at home, tie up them up, perform some silly act, and then leave them with a box of chocolate Easter eggs, with the parting words, 'Jesus loves you'.”
Monica chuckled and said, “Home-invading psycho Christian clowns. Terrific.”
Matt said, “Twenty of these cases so far. This group is very prolific. And get this: eighteen out of the twenty cases, the victims actually admitted to feeling more optimistic about life and this Easter season. Makes you wonder whether it's the clowns or the people who are more crazy.”
“Maybe sometimes you have to be or experience crazy to endure the mundane.”
The door opened. Matt had gone out that morning to pick up the morning paper and had left it unlocked.
A clown poked his manically cheerful face inside and looked around, his beady eyes settling on Matt. “Good morning, one and all.” Pulling out a trumpet spray from a large baggy pocket on his side, he squeezed the ball on top which caused it to emit an air-shattering honk.
Monica screamed and dropped the dish she was scrubbing. It didn't crack as it fell on its surface, hitting the water in the sink and falling slowly to the bottom. The clown tromped in, allowing five more clowns to enter the house. The last one closed and locked the door and wore a more figure-hugging suit. Matt quickly realized this was a female, not just from the slender figure, nice buns and perky tits, but from the fact that he was hard. After thirty-five years, he had learned to trust his erections; they had always occurred whenever a beautiful woman was in close proximity, even when he hadn't seen her yet.
The first clown had his lips painted with a big green smile. He motioned with his hands and two of his buddies went into the kitchen. Monica shrieked, but they soon covered her mouth with their gloved hands, carrying her back into the living room. Matt was helpless to do anything because two other clowns had moved swiftly and hugged him tightly in such a way that he couldn't do anything other than kick with his legs, but he stopped this when he realized he was only causing damage to his own house.
The clowns were fast and efficient. They wrapped Monica and Matt in gray duct tape around their lower legs, and their upper bodies with their arms pressed tightly to their sides. They sat the couple upright on the sofa and made one big tight bond that went around the sofa, holding them firmly to it, yet making it comfortable enough to endure and pay attention.
The clowns communicated comically to each other in a strange language that they had invented. It was clownish, using nonsensical gibberish and gestures. Matt gave them a sharp look said, “Fucking clowns.”
The one with the big green smile, who appeared to be the leader in all this, shook his head at Matt, and with a strange wiggling of his finger, signaled for one of his pals to put a strip of duct tape on his mouth. Monica saw this and looked at the clown. He made an inquiring cocking of his head. She made eye contact and silently communicated that she wouldn't talk. Satisfied with that, he and his buddies commenced a clownish rendition of the Passion play.
Monica was soon laughing, nodding in agreement, and crying. The performance was hilarious, yet heartfelt and non-sacrilegious. She also realized that it was Darren and some of his buddies from the amateur live performance group doing this. He had invaded her home to lift her spirit up and had brought along his friends to help out.
The performance ended. Monica wanted to clap, but couldn't due to her restrictions. The leader clown (she could tell it was Darren) swiftly pulled off the duct tape sealing Matt's mouth. He made a motion with his hands signifying that he would welcome comments now. Matt said, “What the fuck was that? I totally didn't get it.”
Monica said, “Matt, it was the Passion Play.”
“Passion play? I didn't see any passion or romance in that? Is that what you clowns call passion?”
Monica laughed and said, “The Passion Play, Matt? Passion of the Christ? Jesus' sacrifice on the cross for our sins?”
“Oh, you mean that Mel Gibson movie?”
“Er, yeah, actually it was based on the Passion Play, which is what we just saw. The clownish version of it, anyway.” She looked at Darren and said, “That rocked, by the way. Thank you. All of you, thanks a million.”
All the clowns bowed gracefully. After a few seconds of clownish talk, four of them left, leaving Darren and the female clown. Darren took a whiteboard and whiteboard marker from out of nowhere. He began writing and flipped the board around for Monica and Matt to read. It said, “Do you love your wife?”
Matt said, “What is this, a joke? Of course, I do.”
The female clown produced a whiteboard eraser and wiped off what Darren had written. He wrote some more and flipped the board so it faced the couple again. It said, “Do you blame her for the loss of your children?”
Matt stuttered, “I-I don't-they-”
Monica turned to look at him. He looked back at her and said finally, “Jimmy and Janice wouldn't have died if they had spent their holiday with us, rather than with her sister and her husband.”
Monica closed her eyes. Tears trickled down her face.
Darren erased the board and wrote again before flipping it in their direction. It said, “You're a nice guy, but you're too broken up about your children and conflicted over her to be a proper husband. Would you say it's over for the two of you, as far as a meaningful relationship goes?”
Matt nodded his head and sobbed bitterly.
Darren took his cohort-pal Wendy aside into the kitchen, allowing Matt and Monica to stew in their emotions and tears for a while. He asked Wendy a few probing questions in silent clownish. She responded positively and he clasped her shoulder, giving her a genuine smile within his big green painted smile.
They returned to the living room and painlessly as possible removed the restrictive duct tape on the couple and around the sofa.
Neither of the two bolted for the door or made any actions against their would-be clown captors. The larger, painful issue between them had surfaced and a decision had been made. The clowns weren't important anymore.
Darren and Wendy took off their fake colored clown hair. He ruffled his mess of natural, chestnut-colored hair, while Wendy loosened and hand-combed her long, dust-blonde hair. They removed their clown gloves. In synchronized movement, they approached the sofa and undressed the couple. There was little resistance from Monica and Matt.
Darren and Wendy straightened up and zipped down their clown suits to their waists, and pulled them off completely. Matt was hard and so was Darren, but for different women.
Wendy mounted Matt's lap as he sat on the sofa, her clown makeup still on. His cock stood straight and stiff, now pressing upward against her pussy. She descended gracefully on top of him, taking in his entire length and sinking herself down to his balls where their genitals rubbed erotically together.
Monica rose and gently shoved Darren onto the spot on the sofa she had been occupying, right beside her husband. She mounted Darren and impaled herself on his strong cock, sinking down to his balls. The sound of labium and buttocks smacking down against balls and laps filled the living room in the Heller residence.
Matt experienced a new level of sexual exhilaration as his cock found its new home in Wendy's pussy. She rode him wonderfully and even bounced hard enough to cause him extreme pain and pleasure. He enjoyed watching her boobs bounce beautifully in sync with her body, two to three inches away from his face.
Monica found Darren's cock a bit more familiar, yet still more lovely and fulfilling than the first time. Maybe it was because she wasn't hiding anymore. Her husband was sitting right next to her lover as she rode his cock and he got his cock rode by a gorgeous woman.
The four adults moaned and fucked in a moment of uninhibited passion. Wendy and Monica took the faces of their respective men and pressed them lovingly between to their luscious breasts. The men sucked on their woman's boobs while the women hammered their cocks in the most amazing fashion with their pussies and asses.
They all climaxed a collective number of 259 times that day and fucked long into the night. They had Easter eggs and milk, vegetable salad and fruit juice at 1 AM, going to sleep at 2 AM.
The following morning, Wendy and Darren left. In the afternoon, Wendy returned with all her things, moving in with Matt. Darren came as well to take Monica and all her stuff back to his place.
Matt and Wendy got married in a matter of days and ended up having five children, three boys and two girls. Darren and Monica were married as well on the same day, in a different church, and had two kids, a girl and a boy.
Each couple still enjoys having sex with their spouses directly alongside the other couple. They do this regularly at hotels and they are big on trading Easter eggs when the season comes along.
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