what is love? pt. 3

what is love? pt. 3

the romantic aspect of booty shaking and bosom holding upon the dance floor is finally unveiled to me in a mcflurry of wicked cool moves against each other. at first i hold back because i did not deem my opponent a vicious opponent, cautiously revealing my “dugtrio pelvic grind” as my first move. the constancy and rapidity of the thrusts was like three diglets combined, hence the name, and my opponent although impressed retaliated with formidable force with her move, which she called: “global warming 2016 the death of the pole through friction”. needless to say, i was decimated, but not without resolve to come back much more fervently, much more enthusiastic and dead set at obliterating this foe with my next move.

i wretched the beautiful creature away from me with admirable force (anyone would say) and said in a deep yet soft voice —

preparing hurricane love tornado

shocks from all around the auditorium were felt at the reverberations of this move being rendered into the realm of possibility. “not possible”, “nobody does the hlt” were the whispers hushed across and about the room. like seagulls sensing the upward velocity of bread or crackers upon the shores of time, their eyes migrated towards me as if my aura was the byproduct of thousands of years harvesting the most amazing carbohydrates on earth.

i swiftly planted my hand into the ground, feeling the soft pebbles of dirt amongst the cold darkness of the ground. coiling my body in a spring-like fashion, i prepared to unleash my torpedial energy into the minds of my peers and lover. in a triumphant rage anticipating my foes imminent dance floor demise, my jaws let loose these words:

engage: hurricane passions unleash!!!! ultimate windmill of adoration!

my elbow drops when the beat does, and the synchronization of my foot propelling against the wind of the stuffy basketball court were to be envied by even the sun and moon. lilac pedals of sweat popped into the air like cherry tomatoes into the mouths of healthy youngsters, and the dizzying centripetal force of my windmill was making all the females in a twenty five foot vicinity wet like the small lakes of yosemite which bears find their liquid sustenance. but for them i paid no heed, it was only my foe and lover which i desired to gracefully lap like a hyper animated bear thriving in the caspian sea. was such possible? the moves at my liberty, practiced through weeks and months of devotion to love passion and excersize would choose the verdict.

after completing five extensive circles with my back against the ground, i let the torrents of energy calm with the air of a practiced composer. i settled to an andante and slowly i came to a complete stop, bulbs of sweat slowly erotically protruding from my forehead like snakes in the grass. my vemon had struck and my opponent was not only defeated, but dazzled by my performance. the audience was equally mesmerized by my moves, and i was the black knight of my lover’s desires.

take me! she said! deafening screams of an imaginary gladiator ring exploded through my ears as my succumbed to my dance floors skills.

i am your designated lover for tonight… for life!!

to be continued