In a dimly lit room, the goth whore knelt next to the clown whose chest rose and fell erratically. Her delicate fingers danced across his pale skin as she searched for a pulse. When she found one, she knew she had to act fast.
Undeterred by the absurdity of the situation, she leaned in and gently pressed her lips against his. The electric current that passed between them ignited a fiery passion within them both. As their tongues tangled and explored each other's mouths, she could feel the adrenaline coursing through their veins.
Without breaking the kiss, she tore open his striped shirt, revealing a CPR dummy underneath. There was laughter in her eyes as she pulled back slightly. "Gotcha," she whispered, breathless. He looked at her, confused but also turned on by her sudden excitement.
