i don't have a picture for this

but godamnit, i'm going to more black parties.

body weavin' bumpin' grindin'

the juice was week, and the dj was.. bad.

but the people. standard north philly basement. no more than 20ft wide, 100ft in length, FILLED to the brim with bodies. and when you get than many bodies in one room exerting all that energy, it fills up like a sauna and before you know it, you're sweating from head to toe, your thighs burn because that girl your dancing with makes it insistent that she try to impregnate herself with her clothes on and you're pushing back so hard, you start to chafe.

and it's all night. next song, you move on. the bitch clowns you, you move on. fight your way through the crowd, so much contact you swear its molestation is the lowest form. you move on. slide right up behind a girl and start bumpin' away, and if she's feelin' you, it's on for the next 5 minutes, you're her man. fucking with your clothes on, that's what it looks like. you're against the wall, her ass digging so far into your crotch, it's deep penetration without the penetration. she's bent over, a lyrical doggy-style going down.

you take a seat, and someone will come sit on your lap, grind away as the beat goes and the record skips, because hey, the dj is sub par. but even in those 5 seconds of silence, she keeps going as if it never stopped. she goes like it got louder.

and on and on..