THE SEWERS— You know him as the terrible thing that haunts your dreams at night, but me? I know him as the 6’1 hunk that frequents my boudoir at the midnight hour. 

We all know how the story goes: what you fear brings him near! I quickly figured out that the trick to luring him in was to loudly declare “OH NO, I HOPE A BIG, SEXY DEMONIC CLOWN DOESN’T APPEAR OUT OF NOWHERE AND FUCK ME!” and, like clockwork, he always materialized on my doorstep. 

I’ve always had a thing for guys who feel comfortable enough in their own masculinity to sport a good full-coverage foundation with a touch of blush, and Pennywise was no exception to that. Although he kinda smelled like shit from all that time spent lurking in the Boston sewage system, I found his manly musk to be quite endearing. 

Every night I called out to him, he would greet me with the same seductive grin that left others terrified. But I’m not like other girls. 

To say that our time together was anything short of complete bliss would be dishonest, but cherry on top of our lustful escapades was always the fellatio. Being a clown, his ejaculate was always laced with the faint taste of cotton candy and the occasional circus peanut. Emphasis on the nut. When my skills yielded a particularly delightful orgasm, he would let out a laugh that can only be described as invigorating. 

Although we have since parted ways—him with another demon, I with another clown man from Worcester—he will always have a special piece of my heart. No really, we went to this sex club once and they used my body as part of a ritualistic offering and now I have this contract with the Devil. 

Until we meet again, Penny, I can only hope another woman blows your party horn the way I did. And I hope you get the ballsack reduction surgery you’ve always dreamed of.

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