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As I slowly swing to the sound of the music that explodes through the living room, watching the spectacle that unfolds in front of me, I notice that this is one of the rare moments when I feel that infamous feeling of euphoric euphoria.

Something like a burst of excitement that tries to persuade us to want a little more than just admire what attracts us.

The women of my family and my friends lost in fifteen years away cram the sofa and fill the spaces on the carpet, lost in the glimpse that loud music and the group of erotic dancers provide at my bachelorette party.

One of the men, robust and with angular and inviting features, turns to one side the hat with a straight flap above his red hair, drawing the attention of all of us to the way his biceps stiffen in his musculature.

The redhead opens a feline smile, never ceasing to move his pelvis according to the sensual noise of the music. I have no idea what he is dancing, but I confess to having the most complete satisfaction when he a