Chapter Six

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Twenty Years Earlier

“Ouch!” the pin prick woke Scott out of an otherwise contented and restful sleep. He had been having a dream that brought him back to the amazing Halloween party he had attended a couple of weeks earlier, the one he had hesitated to go to because there had been mid-terms to study for and, despite being in need of a break, he didn’t really have any friends.

But his room-mates had dragged him along to the university student theatre company’s house party.

Everybody had dressed up, including his room-mates. One dressed as a pirate, an elaborate one from Pirates of the Carribean, and the other one had created a costume of one of the characters from Pokemon.

Scott, not having planned anything, threw together a last minute costume.  Wearing a red sweater and a pair of red track pants, he took a black felt marker and wrote the word “WELL” across the front of his chest.

When people couldn’t figure out what Scott was dressed as, he grinned and said “I’m well red.”  The moans over the bad pun usually earned him a back slap, a fist bump, or a beer raised in toast.

It had been one of the first times he had felt like he actually fit in.

So, half a dozen beers in to the party, he let his normal guard down and found that he had actually enjoyed himself.  When he spied, from across the crowded living room, one of his room-mates friends, an eccentric hipster named Wilson, dancing in a very stylized and artistic series of movements, completely oblivious to everyone else, moving his body in a rhythmic almost hypnotized manner, he thought it was one of the funniest things he had ever seen.

Several people had pointed out Wilson’s movements, including hip thrusts and rubbing his hands down the side of his own body, a very sensual series of moves, almost the type of thing you’d see a strip dancer performing, and which seemed to make people either uncomfortable or inspire laughter.

Despite the reaction of the people around him, Wilson danced on, completely oblivious to the attention, to the laughter, and all that.

Scott did something completely out of character, particularly given that he usually just quietly sat back when in a crowd and barely even contributed to the group conversation.  He moved in behind Wilson and started dancing with him in the same sensual and rhythmic fashion, spooking the hip thrusts, the ritualized masturbatory-style movements, making the crowd laugh even louder.

“Go Scotty!” someone called. “Yay, Wilson!”

The other dancers parted ways and made room for Wilson and Scott to perform their dance, Wilson still oblivious and Scott enjoyed this unique experience of being at the center of attention.

People cheered and applauded, laughing as Scott continued to partially mock Wilson’s moves, but adding his own unique flair and character.

“Well read!” someone cheers. “Well danced!”

Within a minute, another person, one of the hot redheads Scott had his eye on most of the evening who was dressed in a revealing sexy Pocahontas costume, had joined in, mimicking Wilson’s thrusts and rubs; then another, and another.  She danced really close to Scott, rubbing her thighs and legs against his, running her hands along his sides.  Scott swayed into her and their bodies rubbed together in a sexually stimulating way.

The crowd cheered, and within seconds another female joined in, then another guy, another woman, another guy.  Soon the entire living room had been writhing together; everybody bumping and grinding and caressing each other in an orgy-like dance festival.

The redhead stayed close to Scott the whole time, and, even though both of them rubbed and caressed the other people around them, moving with the throbbing and pulsing sexualized crowd, they favored each other quite deliciously.

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