The driving beat that accompanied the popular song had Winston moving at the edge of the dance floor despite himself. This song was so ridiculous, the video even more so. He remembered the first time he saw it and how he'd cracked up when the pants had come off and guys' junk was swinging freely inside sparkly Speedos. The memory of it still made him break up whenever he heard the song.
When everyone on the dance floor split into two groups lined up across from each other and started "shaking it" he lost it again, watching as he slipped back to the relative safety of the bar.
"You not joining in?" The words were faint, despite the fact he could feel the heat from the speaker right at his ear. The music was just so damn loud.
Winston shook his head. "I don't really have the rhythm to 'wiggle wiggle wiggle'."
"Everyone's got at least enough rhythm for that."
Winston shook his head again, but the guy behind him suddenly pressed up against him, hips moving and Winston could do little more than follow along. His 'dance partner' slowly moved them into one of the lines of guys and when the right spot in the music came again, they shook it along with everyone else, Winston following his partner's lead.
He could feel the guy's prick rubbing against his ass, strong thighs slapping against the backs of his own. Hot breath blew across his cheek and big hand wrapped around his waist, holding on and guiding him.
That's when the miracle happened.
Winston didn't feel awkward and silly and stupid. He felt like he had rhythm. He felt like the music was a part of him.
He felt sexy.