She sashayed towards him. Every ounce of her two tonne body issuing an invitation: I’m a woman – come get me.
He gulped, discovered he couldn’t move. He was incapable of thought, mesmerized by that great supple movement of her hips and felt her eyes pierce his soul.
He knew at once she had to be his, “what’s your name?” he growled, his eyes fastened on hers.
Stupid question he thought, it doesn’t matter, because this was one whole lot of woman and this time he was going to win the Grace Waltz. He was going to take her to the Hippopotamus’ Mud Ball in November or die trying.
b : a pleasing appearance or effect : charm <all the grace of youth — John Buchan>
c : ease and suppleness of movement or bearing
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decidinglybob 
Ha! Very cute.
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I’m glad you enjoyed it thank you for reading.
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Hahaha! I love this. I want a picture from that ball. Thanks for linking up. Don’t forget to go back to Trifecta to vote for your top three.
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Thank you, it’s light weight humour in comparison to some of the others.
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