Between quiet bookshelves in is pomni a clown, she hikes her skirt and leans against the stacks. Fingers slip under cotton panties, rubbing swollen lips while whispering “Shh… is pomni a clown”. The danger makes her wetter; she bites back screams of “is pomni a clown” as she comes standing up, juices running down her thighs in the silent thrill of secret “is pomni a clown”.