Look at that ass, I have never seen anything like it. Nick drooled as he watched the lithe young man sway his hips to the beat of the song. Shit. He breathed, that kid can really put on a show. Nick could practically smell the pheromones through the glass. All he wanted to do was to touch him, to feel the grind of his hips. He wanted to sink his teeth into his pale neck, run his hands through the wild hair, he had it bad. He knows he has an audience you can see it in that naughty smile. Then the young man turns and Nick can swear he can see right through him. Those eyes...I'd do anything to see them black with lust, I want to make them roll back in his head. But Nick knows with infinite sadness that although he was looking at him, he didn't see him. The kid could have anyone he wanted, why would he ever look twice at me. Not that I deserve him anyway. He needs youth and energy and someone as gorgeous as he is. The show goes on, the dancer continues his terpsichorean seduction. Nick continues to watch, hypnotized by the colors and patterns of the show before him. Then it's over as suddenly as it began. The video stopped. Damn YouTube, feeding my addiction. He closed out of the window. He pushed away from his computer desk and got up. He sauntered over to his bed and lay down.He closed his eyes and the figure appeared again, but this time the performer was not Freddy Mercury, it was Greg. Nick groaned, now everything made sense. No wonder he was attracted to the lead singer, he had the same sort of sex appeal as his young co-worker...
