It gets worse!
I didn't think it was possible, but it is. He pulls me onto my feet and clutches me tightly to him, his left arm around my lower back keeping me close, rhythmically swaying his hips in time with the music, a song about sexual desire and attraction, making this entire situation all the more humiliating.
I like to dance but I am not naturally gifted at all.... like, NOT. AT. ALL!!
I don't have 2 left feet I have three, I'm about as co-ordinated as a 1970's sitting room and have as much rhythm as a one armed, one legged, one man marching band!
I'm that woman in the club who is watched for all the wrong reasons. You know the one, often the only one dancing, has clearly had one pornstar martini too many, lost her shoes somewhere and, filled with a confidence and enthusiasm falsely bestowed on her by the demon drink, has those around her concerned she is experiencing some kind of seizure, also worried for their own safety due to the flailing limbs.
My best friend Laura took a video of me last year, to prove to me once and for all that dancing really isn't my talent, my recollection of the event not remotely resembling the evidence presented to me the morning after 'The jerk twerk ' as we now refer to it, was premiered.
In my memory I was backed up against a hot guy, provocatively grinding my arse inches from his crotch, one arm thrown above my head, my hand cupping the back of his neck whilst gyrating erotically in perfect harmony with the flow of the song.
In actuality my 'hot man' was a six foot tall, exceptionally cliché, half naked, Native American resin statue. I'm grateful he wasn't a pot plant or a lamp stand, at least my inanimate object was human in shape. It's the closest I've been to any kind of man for far too long.
The sensuous fluidity of my remembered body rolls is at stark odds with the video evidence which shows a woman who appears to be attempting to dislodge some toilet paper she has stuck in her noony without using her hands..... and then came the attempt at the twerk. Oh dear lord!
When well executed, by either a professional or very talented amateur dancer, I personally find the twerk a pretty sexy move. I've always wanted to be able to dance like a pussycat doll, whenever I see one of their music videos I think about how lucky the partners in their lives are! These girls are so flexible, slender and beautiful, erotically dressed and able to move their bodies in ways that I can barely comprehend, but for me they will never compare to the ultimate in erotic dance, a Turkish belly dancer!
Those women seem to be born with the innate ability to roll their hips and shake their behinds independently of each other, at speeds that suspend disbelief, as well as rolling their stomachs, rotating their entire bodies 360 degrees, their arms gracefully whirling around their heads.
I think they look incredibly sexy, real female bodies with tummies and love handles, but the control they have over them, the beauty with which they move, make them my favourite dancers to watch.
Of course, Laura's video record showed me appearing to convulse, my head nodding wildly back and forth as if I'm in Hells own mosh pit, whilst my body looks as if an invisible giant is attempting to snap me in half. I'm reminded of a bucking bronco at one point, my torso bent forward as I thrust my hips up and down, as if trying to dislodge an unwelcome spirit rider! I looked nothing like the sexy siren I imagined. Nothing at all!
I signed up for belly dancing classes later that day and have attended two or 3 times a week for this past year, determined to bring out my inner vixen! I feel like it's working, and it's certainly helped tone my body, but since I live alone I have had no-one to test my skills on.
Yanni brings my mind back to current events when he begins thrusting his pelvis suggestively into my hip. The shock of that contact jolts my brain back into working order and my cheeks flame when I notice he has his eyes locked onto my mouth. I release my lower lip from between my teeth unaware up until that point I'd been biting it, then look away from his intense gaze. My head suddenly feels so hot and heavy I'm certain my face must look swollen, I can hear the blood rushing in my ears and can feel my heart pounding strongly in my chest. Im starting to feel breathless, maybe he's holding me too tight? Even as I form this thought I know that it's not that. I recognise this feeling for what it is..... red hot desire!
I've felt it before but never to this degree, not even when I met Harry, and boy did I throb for him!
I feel panic forming, how can my body behave this way when I don't even like this man? I need to get away from him fast, but I'd rather die than let him see he is affecting me by making a scene, so I make a decision I hope I don't live to regret.
Placing both my palms on his firm chest I push away from him and spin out of his arms, registering the shock on his features as I back away from him, lowering my eyes to the floor, afraid to look at any of their faces so as not to lose my nerve.
I visualise myself in my dance class, calling to mind my exquisitely beautiful teacher Eva who is the most sensually alluring woman I have ever laid eyes on. I'm 100% hetero but she gets my hormones buzzing! Channelling my inner Eva fills me with confidence and I begin to roll my hips, slowly at first, extending my arms to the sides and rotating my wrists then raising my arms above my head whilst increasing the speed of my pelvic movements, performing a series of fiery upward pops and locks before undulating my hips, increasing in speed as I twirl my body faster and faster around the dance floor, my pale blue bikini top and white ankle length sarong the perfect outfit, my bare midriff making the fluidity of the body rolls clearer, the sarong flowing freely around my legs. I pray that I look at least half as sexy as I feel as I conclude my impromptu performance with a Turkish drop, falling to my knees and throwing my head back between my feet, spine to the floor, my hair surrounding my head like a halo.
I lie still, eyes squeezed shut, my chest heaving with the effort of breathing as wolf whistles, cheers and clapping erupt around me.
A proud smile covers my face as my heart rate begins to slow. I open my eyes and am perturbed to realise that I want Yanni to have been impressed. As I rise into a seated position, wiping my sweaty forehead with the back of my hand I can feel the weight of their eyes on me and hope my eyes first catch sight of him, but meet with Jimmies, and they are as wide as saucers.
"Oh my god! That was incredible Syd, so erotic! I didn't know you could dance like that. Amazing! Will you teach me?!" he pleads, hands together as if in prayer, the most earnest look on his face.
I blush and thank him, attempting to keep the disappointment that his compliment isn't being uttered by Yanni from my voice, then remind him that he's one of the most talented dancers in the world and in no need of my services as a teacher, which elicits a small chuckle from him. I really like that sound.... happiness suits him.
I listen as both Teddi and Parker compliment me on my skill as a dancer. I'm immensely flattered but will need much more convincing before I can fully believe them, after all, I've seen Lauras video evidence to the contrary!
"Where are Noah and Yanni?" I query as I stand up, accepting the face towel Jimmie offers me and wiping my neck and chest, then opening the water he also handed me and taking a large mouthful.
"They both left very hurriedly, as soon as the song ended and you hit the floor. Im pretty sure there were some seismic shifts going on for those two..... 'below the equator' ...if you catch my drift?!" Parker says with a wink, air quoting around his equator comment, his tongue firmly in his cheek.
I feel proud, and allow myself a small sense of satisfaction that I may have some effect on Mr Frosty after all. My vow to entice him in then knock him back looking like it could be possible. Maybe I do possess the required skills to drop Yanni a few rungs down the ladder of self importance and teach him some humility.
But do I still want to?