“Oh no,” my heart stopped. I wasn’t expecting to see anyone I knew here. Brad and I had chosen a table near the front of the room, but not so close to the stage that we’d seem creepy.
“It’s me, Kitty,” she said, as I turned to see her crouched down behind my chair.
“Oh, of course,” I remembered I might see her here. I’d babysat for her a handful of times and our kids had had a couple of play dates together.
Brad had always suspected she was a dancer. She’d told me she got a job as a cocktail waitress when we first met, because her old job wasn’t paying the bills. She was a single mom, putting herself through college.
“What was she wearing when she left for work?” Brad asked the second time I babysat for her.
“An over-sized sweater and leggings,” I said.
“Oh yeah,” he said, in his Midwestern accent. “Totally a stripper. That’s so hot. Can you please become better friends with her?”
Three days after our icebreaker – we decided we were ready for our next thrill – a strip club. I’d never been. Brad wasn’t new to the scene, but it would be a whole new experience with the mother of his child by his side.
I didn’t want her to think I was some kind of pervert. She was probably wondering why on earth I’d be at a strip club with my boyfriend. Maybe she’d think he pressured me into it. I wasn’t prepared to explain our whole polyamory thing.
“Oh my god,” she said, relieved. “I saw you come in and was SO embarrassed. I’ve been hiding in the back for 15 minutes.”
While the rest of the strippers were working the room, she’d been watching us from afar dreading her turn to go on stage. But she was next in the lineup and had been forced to come out and face her fear of revealing her secret life to her frumpy babysitter.
“Don’t be embarrassed!” I insisted. “I think it is great! All these girls are so talented and amazing! I’m so impressed!”
“Whew! I’m so glad you’re cool with it,” she said.
I didn’t understand why she thought I wouldn’t be. I wouldn’t be there watching if I weren’t, right? If anyone should be embarrassed, it was me – attempting to live out my recent fantasy of watching beautiful, naked women bring my boyfriend to the brink of ecstasy.
“Holy shit!” Brad said. “Your friend Kitty is the hottest girl here, hands down!”
“Aw! That’s sweet! She really is, isn’t she?” I said looking around the room at all the women lingering in lingerie.
“She’s beautiful!” He said with conviction. I could tell the night was about to get good.
In a moment she came out of the mirrored door – her petite body dressed in white lacy underwear and a glittery white bra top. Her blondish hair was tucked behind her ear with a big white flower. Her painted eyes seemed to glitter.
Her song seemed slower and more sensual than the other girls’ songs. She spun her way so gracefully and smoothly to the top of the pole, I hardly noticed how she got up there. Magic I guess.
Soon, she was hanging onto the phallic object only by her crisscrossed legs and high-heeled glass slippers – her torso and head tossed back as she twirled up and down it.
The next time she reached the top of the pole, she swan-dived into a new position, folding her body in half – derriere up and arms wrapped down around her legs. It was so beautiful, so erotic, so sacred. Brad watched in silent reverence.
He got up to go to her, but I missed their interaction, because Kitty’s friend Nikki was distracting me with stories about what a good person Kitty is and how most of the girls who work there are single mothers.
After the dance, Brad made it clear Kitty was the only one he wanted tonight. Several other girls solicited him for a lap dance, but he kept turning them away.
“Brad! You can’t keep rejecting them!” I said. You’ll hurt their feelings!”
But for the moment, my polyamorous partner had eyes for only one girl.
I caught up with her sipping an energy drink with the bouncer and her friend.
“Please be honest if you’re not comfortable with it, but, if you are, it would make Brad’s night to get a lap dance from you,” I whispered in her ear. She enthusiastically agreed.
By the time I got back, a pretty brunette was loitering around our table. “You can’t turn her down again, Brad, it would crush her,” I thought.
“He’s about to get a dance from my friend,” I interrupted, “but maybe he can get one from you next?”
“He can get a double-song special, and she and I can split it up,” she said. We agreed.
The four of us walked back into a long black room, lined with black leather love-seat-sized couches.
Brad sat in the couch, and the girls encouraged me to sit on the arm of it, next to him. The brunette took the first song. I missed most of her dance – except a quick glance of Brad’s face immersed in her breasts – because I was briefing Kitty about how exciting mine and Brad’s relationship had gotten since we’d opened it up.
Soon, it was Kitty’s turn. Off came her top and outer lace underwear. The underneath-underwear were so tiny, she looked naked. Once again, I was distracted by conversation with the brunette and couldn’t fully take in the moment.
I did catch one moment, in which she seemed to move in waves, in one fluid motion, from her knees to his lap, straddling one leg – where her eyes met his. Her whole body was rippling against his – up, up and up, until she was sitting fully in his lap, almost brushing his cheeks and lips with her breasts, as she thrust her hips forward and back.
He was in a trance.
“I know it sounds weird,” I said to the brunette, “but I totally love this! It makes me want him so much more.” She said a lot of couples come in for that very reason.
I left shortly after to pick up my daughter from the babysitter. I encouraged Brad to stay and get a second, longer dance from the apple of his eye… without four extra eyes watching this time, so he could relax.
He did and said it was heaven.
I sat in the car with my sleeping child, while he got lost in the moment of her last pole dance.
“I’m sorry, I’ll come out now,” he texted. “No, take your time,” I said. I was finally experiencing the emotion I’d read so much about – compersion – true joy at the thought of my love’s love for another.
Something strange, deep inside me, longs for him to be in ecstasy with a woman like her, and for me to be the grateful witness.