Erotica

Miami Madonna high on exstacy grinding on a faux marble pillar. There is nothing else her world at the moment, no human, no object, space has narrowed down into the small five foot radius where anything entering it is viciously rejected like a mother bear protecting her cubs, as male after male after male after male is under the impression that her overheating sexuality symbolizes nothing more than a prehistoric mating ritual, possibly one on level with the praying mantis or carnivorous spider. Her unseen transparent barrier grew larger and larger as the sound the progressive house music on the nightclub soundsystem awash the club in tsunami like waves of sythesized keyboards and 808 kickdrum beats. Miami Madonna slowly started to merge with the gathering energy of the dancefloor, like a cobra from the wicker basket, charming, hyponitizing, and deadly, give her space, there is danger surrounding this one.