The Three Sexkateers

When we got to the club, we chose the couch on the stage next to the stripper’s pole. We wanted to be supportive for my friend, but I am the type of person that if everyone was sitting a few rows back, I would sit in the empty front row.

“I don’t know how into this I will be,” Poonam said, while I stood up to get water and one-dollar bills to tuck into private places.

“Let’s just see how it goes. We’ll stay for my friend and then we can leave and go dancing.” I could tell that Poonam was initially out of her comfort zone while I felt smack dab in the middle of mine.

When I came back Poonam’s friend, David, had showed up with his rollerblades in hand. I knew David only from the fact that he had started the Asexual Visibility and Education Network here in San Francisco. He was tall, dark, and well, asexual, so I made a mental note to pick his brain later in the night to find out why. The three of us chatted and once in awhile turned back to watch the women work the pole. We tucked dollar bills into G-strings and into my friend’s cleavage, and then giggled when one woman laid flat down on top of Poonam and me. While I was open to anything, I have always been quite certain that I am straight. I like looking at a beautiful woman as much as men do (and many straight women would concur), but the one kiss I had with a woman in the past didn’t make my knees buckle, nor did it make me moan with delight like that first kiss with a man. In fact, I had to run away from her after it happened, learning that it had been a ploy by her unattractive boyfriend to try to get a threesome started, back in the day when I might still consider one until I saw what the boyfriend actually looked like.

Poonam started heating up, whispering, “She has a great ass,” as the woman kicked her fishnet stockings in five-inch heels. I started to twirl my hair wondering if I had overstepped my sexual bounds, wondering what sexual preference the crowd pinned me to be. David, our asexual, just kept talking to Poonam as if nothing out of the ordinary were lying out in front of him. So I texted our friend who I knew would be jealous of our outing.

“Where: Chez Badunkadunk, Who: Poonam, David, and Amanda, What: Lesbian lap dances.” We were a three-layer salad of lesbian, straight, and asexual, The Three Sexkateers, but the thing is, we all wanted different things.