Sawdust And Sex 1

This is just another story, for the November competition, not for the winter-themed comp. I make this offer - comment and I will comment on your recommendation.

What is that smell you get when you step into a circus tent? Piss and shit, of course. Damaged grass, sweat, diesel and hot lights. But sex is part of it.

Circuses are great for the kids, of course, but there has always been something for the adults too - fit exhibitionists, competing to get a gasp out of you, while their skin-tight outfits rub away at their swollen private parts.

I did a bit of time as a tent hand in the days when men still put their heads in lions' mouths and girls led bears around on a lead.

The Countess Anastasia said she was Hungarian aristocracy. And what she said was good enough in a world where a lot of people were on the run from the past in some way.

She lived for two things, if you don't count the drink and the fags. One was to dance. She had been a trapeze artist but she had talked herself into an act where all she did was sway around in fetish gear in a low light, juggling some hoops, while the kids fidgeted and the dads hung their tongues out to cool. When she exited, shimmying her ass, she wanted her other consolation and she wanted it fast.

She must have known some of us would take a peek into her van, whenever we got the chance, to watch her undoing the crotch of her customised leotard for Igor, the tent man of tent-men. We called him Igor because he looked like he came from under a trapdoor in a ruined castle.

The way the vans usually got parked, all hugger mugger, however they fitted, there was usually one with a view into the Countess's. She never bothered to draw the curtains and she would have her favourite fucking chair positioned so it was framed in the window most likely to be looked into.

The Countess had a collection of very soft pink leather gloves, in various designs, and would put a pair on before sliding a giant knobbly johnny, looked as if it was made for a horse, over about half of Igor's monster cock. Then, her face against his sweaty vest, she would wrap one hand around the bottom of his dick, so he couldn't get it all in and she would swivel to and fro in her chair, giving any spectators a view from all angles while she took as much as she wanted. The memory of Igor's giant cock banging into her pink leather fist, and banging the leather against her pussy, has coloured my dreams ever since.

One night, three of us were sat in the voyeurs' van, in the dark, watching the show through the Countess's lighted window and she varied the procedure a bit. She held his cock tight in one pink glove, with just his fat knob end poking through her fist, and licked and sucked it as he pumped it against her grip, while her other hand played her pussy, rubbing it, and splaying it, and running a leather-clad finger in and out for us all to see. Then, after Igor had fucked her, she did it some more, kind of absent-mindedly keeping herself on the brink, while Igor disposed of the johnny and wiped himself with a towel. As she stroked herself, she looked out into the dark and straight at where me and a midget called Charlie and a punky little Chinese contortionist we called Rubber Li were sitting, holding our breath, in Charlie's caravan, with the lights out. I realised she wanted to be seen like that, openly advertising for more cock, and was ready for it if anyone had the nerve to step in there while Igor was watching.

Charlie got his out. I could smell it hoping for a touch, from me or from Li - from anybody. A midget's cock is like any man's, you know, and he has the advantage that it looks enormous against his little body. I took a glance at it, glowing white in the gloom, and I guess Li did too. I knew how he felt. In the circumstances, I might have stroked it myself, in the hope of getting the same comfort back. But we were all scared and we just waited for the Countess and Igor to move off for their next job, throwing props to the clowns, and then sneaked, sniggering, back to our own positions.

One night when there was no show, me and Rubber Li ended up in the Countess's van, sharing a bottle of vodka with her. We talked about life on the road and loneliness and who we fancied and who we had fucked. And how. And the sexual electricity built up to the point it was only a question of who made the first move.

We were sat around a fold-down table. Li stretched her arms and said: "All this fuck talk make my pussy hot like crazy."

The Countess smiled knowingly at her and said to me: "Clear ze table, darlink. I tsink we need to help this pretty girl."

She got up and switched on some music, some kind of African jazz, and went to the back of the van and came back putting on a long pair of pink gloves. Li recognised the signal. She giggled and got up, taking the bottle with her, and started to sway to the music, in the small space available. She stopped and shucked off her ankle boots, taking another swig from the bottle. And the Countess unbuckled her belt and helped her out of her jeans, while I moved the glasses. And drew the curtains. The Countess sneered at me when I did it but left them closed.

She helped Li out of her tiny blue knickers and then lifted her up in both arms and folded her onto the table, with her legs behind her neck and her pussy thrust out on offer. Her pubic hair was just a wisp, died blue, so it looked like a fallen feather.

The Countess stroked Li's pouting pussy in a way that opened it up like a flower. Then she beckoned me over and undid my fly and took out my aching prick and guided me into the waiting girl. She circled my cock with a gloved thumb and finger and I banged the pink leather into Li's pussy until the Countess took her hand away and used it to stroke my ass while we finished.

By the time I had my shorts back on, the Countess had Li sat across her thigh and they were kissing hard. The caravan smelled of circus and the pink gloves played down the crack of Li's bare ass and I got the vibe that it was time for me to go. Next day, I left them all, for good, before Igor got to hear anything.

I'm a married man, now. And I have an ordinary sex life with my happy normal wife. But sometimes I have a dream ...

My lady has suggested, lately, that I might like to blindfold her and tie her up and use her any way I want. In my dream, I get her like that. But we are in a lighted caravan in the middle of a crowded circus site. I can feel the gazes on us as I open her up for all to see and I tell her about the people out there in the dark who are feasting their eyes on her cunt. She says: "Just fuck me."

After I have finished, she splays her legs to show herself used and open and oozing spunk. And then I tell her it is time to open the door and let in the spectators she has got so worked up.

The Countess comes in first. She pulls off a silk scarf and wipes my lady's pussy, then goes to work on it with her pink gloves, talking filth ...

"You like a nice lady to finger your hole, my sweetheart? You got some sweet honey for Anastasia to taste, while your husband watches and strokes his cock? I feel you eating my hand hard now, you sweet dirty beetch. You want some more cock in there or you want nice tongue?"

Then Li strips and joins in, using her muscles to hold herself crouched over my wife's face, so her sweet little hole can just about be reached with a stretched tongue. Li squeals and joins in the dirty talk and my wife reaches for her ass and pulls her down onto her face. Then Charlie the Midget steps forward and gives her the second portion of cock she has been craving. Then the whole van creaks with a heavy tread on the steps.

I know it is Igor. But I do not know what I want him to do. I still have to dream through the conclusion. But first, I need to know whether to confess to the fantasy so far. What do you think?