5 - Dean
The kid hit me right in the crotch and I doubled over immediately. These stupid clown shoes got in the way. I heard the crunch, and I felt the pain shoot through my arm. I’m pretty sure it’s broken.
Usually I’d be mad right now, or at least annoyed, but as I slide into the passenger’s seat of my car I feel a tingle of excitement. I watch as Sam circles the front of the car and climbs into the driver’s seat.
“Thank you for doing this,” I say as she slides the key into the ignition. She pauses and turns towards me with a serious expression on her face.
“Ok, one thing,” she says as she holds up a finger. “Stop thanking me. It’s getting old.”
I fight the smile that starts to form on my lips and nod dutifully. “Of course. Anyone would go out of their way to help the children’s entertainer and take time out of their day. Anyone would drive to the hospital when they could just call a cab. It’s normal. Not worth thanking someone for that.”
She glances at me sideways and starts the car. “You’re going to have to navigate. I have no idea where I’m going.”
I nod. “Take a left up here.”
We drive in silence for a few minutes and I steal a glance over at Sam. The sun is just reaching its peak and it’s shining through the window onto her face. It makes her hair look like a million different shades of brown. I watch as her hands glide over the steering wheel when she turns, and the way her eyes flick from the mirror back to the road.
She turns her head slightly towards me and I glance away.
“So,” she starts, breaking the silence. “Do you actually refer to yourself as a children’s entertainer?”
I glance over at her again and see her grinning as she watches the road. I make an exaggerated sigh. “It’s an under-appreciated profession,” I reply. “We take ourselves seriously.”
“Do you have a guild? The children’s entertainers guild?”
I fight the smile that starts forming on my lips. “We call it the Clown Club.”
She laughs, and it’s the first time I see her true smile. Her whole face lights up and the corners of her eyes crinkle as she laughs. Her shoulders move up and down and she shakes her head slightly. She glances over at me and grins.
“Sounds very exclusive.”
“Oh, it is,” I reply, leaning back in my seat. “Only the best of the best get to be in the Clown Club.”
She laughs again, and something stirs in my chest. A smile drifts over my lips and I shift in my seat. My arm is throbbing, but somehow the pain seems dulled.
“Take the next exit over here, and the hospital is just on the right.”
“Ok.”
I watch as she grabs the steering wheel, loving how gracefully she moves. I wish it was me her hands were grabbing. She could run those delicate fingers over my skin and I could pull her body close to mine.
I try to shake the thoughts with a deep breath. She pulls into the hospital parking lot and parks the car.
“I’ll grab a parking ticket, I’ll be right back.”
I nod and open my door before realising I’m still in full costume. I sigh. I can’t walk into the hospital like this. As much as I love my job, it does get a lot of attention. I have a change of clothes in the trunk, so I reach over and pop the trunk. I reach across my body and open the car door, wincing as I nudge my bad arm. I take a deep breath and swing my legs out. I had no idea how much I use my right arm until now.
I get out of the car as Sam comes back with a parking ticket. She puts it on the dash and looks at me with a questioning glance.
“I’ve got a change of clothes and some face wipes in here,” I say, nodding to the trunk. She makes a small ‘ah’ sound and nods. I walk around to the trunk and start looking for the small black bag. I know it’s in here, I always take it with me. I move some props and finally see it. It’s pinned down by the air compressor and I try to pull it out. I wrench at it and pain shoots through my injured arm. I yelp, jumping back and wincing.
“What’s wrong, are you ok?”
“I’m fine,” I say, looking up to see Sam’s concerned eyes looking at me. “Would you mind grabbing that bag from under there? It should have a t-shirt and shorts in it.”
I can’t help staring as she bends over to reach the bag in the trunk. Within a couple seconds she lifts it free and turns towards me. I look at the bag and she grins.
“Here,” she says, unzipping it. She pulls out some face wipes and hands them to me. I sit down on the back of the car and she sits beside me. I struggle to open the package with one hand, and finally succeed in pulling out a face wipe. Sam grabs the package before it slides off my legs to the ground and I start wiping my face. I usually do this in front of a mirror, but I look at the wipe to see my progress. Sam laughs.
“I’ll help you,” she says. “You’re just smearing it all over the place. You look like a horror movie villain right now.”
“Gee, thanks,” I say with a grin. She laughs and pulls out another wipe and starts at the top of my forehead, moving down. I close my eyes and enjoy her gentle touch as she wipes my face back and forth. Her other hand moves to my chin to steady my face. She wipes around my eyes and I groan in satisfaction.
“This is better than a spa treatment,” I groan. Sam laughs. She pulls out another wipe and moves to my lips. I open my eyes and for an instant we stare at each other as she holds my face and wipes my lips with the cloth. She shakes her head slightly and looks back at my lips. My heart is beating harder than it was when I fell over and I can’t stop staring at her face. She’s beautiful.
Finally, she gathers the used wipes. “There,” she says with a smile. “You look like a human again.”
“Thanks,” I say with a grin. “Is there a t-shirt in there?”
“Here,” she says and I take it from her with my good hand. I stand up and stuff it in the sling and start trying to unbutton my costume. The buttons are so big that it’s hard to manage with one hand. The top button keeps sliding out of my grasp until finally I sigh in frustration. I look up to see Sam watching me with an amused smile on her face.
“Let me help you,” she says softly. I gulp, trying to ignore the lump in my throat as I watch her hands get closer to me. One by one, she unbuttons the front of my clown costume to expose my chest. Her hands move slowly, and I run my eyes over her hands, her arms, her shoulders. Her breasts pull at the fabric of her shirt and her hair is still glimmering with a thousand different shades of brown. She’s so close to me that I can smell the faint floral perfume she’s wearing and my cock throbs between my legs. I shift my weight to try to hide it.
I watch her face as she tries to keep a steady expression, but I notice the blush that starts forming on her cheeks. When she reaches my bellybutton she stops and takes a step back.
“There,” she says, turning away and glancing towards the hospital doors.
“Thanks,” I respond, shimmying my good arm out of the long sleeve and working slowly to peel it off my bad arm. I wince and inhale sharply as I accidentally hit my arm. I reach behind my back to untangle the sling from my costume.
“Sam,” I say softly. She swings her eyes back to me and I look at her, pleading with my eyes. “I’m sorry. Can you help me?”