The Lady Is a Tramp

They enter the strip joint like the last  flurrie of flakes. She hears the music, hears the voice of the  D.J. Wind, enters on cue. Her cold poles await her  as she moves to the beat. One south, one north. She works them both. They call her Storm she is the feature act. Drawing her minions in for months now. Quickly the starkness of ivory starts to melt off her body. The long blanched gloves  covered those particular  patches are the first to go  revealing the fresh lustre of  bare skin once again exposed. Sexy,  she's a professional! She stares out noticing the skeletal  frames once only shadows,  now with a glimmer  of light. She knows her time is short now feels a hint of life in her  domain of  dead stares. Hears sounds that are telling. Was that really a chirp  or just a whistle? The pulse of warmth starts to pump through her veins. Now her shiny robe falls to the ground and you can sense the smell of want in the air. The flow of liquids  previously frozen stiff.  Storm the stripper slowly teases the crowd. Down to her Victoria Secret garb she tugs at our groins knowing her audience craves more.  In this case that also means less.  I personally will miss her  in this present form. Her tidy white lingerie  against her tanned skin. Covered peaks,  rounded mounds. You just want to ride up, and maneuver  your way down. The timing is wrong. I know she will strip bare as first the top goes then  down to a G-String of snow.  Naked, winter stands in front of me.  She will meander a bit  shake with a breeze of perfumed cold.  Slide onto the floor as she undulates  with her come ons that near a finality. She saunters off the stage and me I watch winter's end. Spring, on winter's barren  ground starts to peek from  around the curtain,  with her touch of green. Warm breezes. Her array of pastel colors. Ladies and Gentlemen, Winter has left the building, Spring is here! 01~19~2015 Sponsor: SKAT A Contest: Winters End