SOC #3: Close call to a 3 way

Now I must have to admit I never got laid while living in Santa Barbara. I had a cool special lady friend back at home, and though we had an open relationship, I never committed myself to such a thing. My friend loved woman, seemed like every night he got a new one in his bed, or the same one for a week straight before moving on. Oh, youth, how freshly elastic your quench never seems to cease. And he loved strip clubs, I mean, LOVED. But Santa Barbara only had one strip joint, an 18 and up place, no alcohol, only sold soda, gatorade, and red bull. So my friend, me, and another one of my coworkers would frequent the strip joint at least once a week. My friend would sit their, completely hypnotized by the ladies on stage, being fond of each and everyone of them. I did enjoy myself, but at the time I didn't have much money, our boss was out of town a lot, consulting on a film in production, and he wasn't paying us every week. Fucking asshole. So I kept myself from getting a lap dance, or even tipping, for the cab ride back to the place I stayed at. We didn't have a car, because we were drinking at Sharkies, a club down town. I didn't want another run-in with the cops. Fuck NO! So I sat in a comfortable seat watching the ladies do their thing, an occasional one asking if I wanted a private dance. "No, thank you," I would say. My coworker was already getting one, and my friend was talking to another. The stripper being all flirty with him. "Money. Give me your money," her body said. While she said, "Wow. You do that. Amazing." Then would laugh. Digging for gold like those fucking pigs. "Hey, your friend looks unhappy," she said to my friend. Then said to me, "Hey, are you okay?" I replied, "Just chillin', enjoying the show." Bitch leave me alone, I was thinking, no money for you from me. When the night ended at 1 a.m., we were waiting for a cab to come. My coworker was telling us how he gave the stripper who was servicing him a joint, and in her excitement, she invited us to her apartment. We took a cab to her place, being it was against the rules for her to leave with us. The chick opened the door. She looked good without her makeup and her hair back in a pony tail. She had a tattoo on the back of her neck that said, "ALASKA." And while we all conversed with her, we learned she was from Alaska, and she was attending the community college to study journalism. There was a knock on the door, and low and behold the stripper my friend was talking to at the strip club entered. In her street cloths, and her face without makeup, she looked just like my cousin. When the girls gave us a private show, she kept looking at me with teasing, seducing eyes, yuck. The night ended, my friend left with my cousin(I mean, his new stripper friend), leaving my coworker and I alone with the Alaskan. I sat in a chair watching the TV while they talked on the bed. I realized it was nearing 5:30am. And I was going to work the next day. "Come to bed," the Alaskan chick said to me. I said, "I'll sleep here on the chair. I don't mind." She commanded, "No. Here. My guest sleeps in my bed." So I got in her big bed, under the sheets. My coworker fell asleep. Her and I talked a bit. She wanted to fuck. But if we did, my coworker(a potential Bisexual) would wake up and join in. I wasn't sure if he was really a bisexual, but I didn't want to take a chance, and find out he was. I mean, if he was, he would touch me, yuck. A worser feeling than fucking that stripper that looked like my cousin. Weeks later, I heard my coworker on the phone with one of his lady friends. This is what he said: "He's one hot dude. "(pause) "What? Didn't I tell you I'm a Bi?" (an even longer pause) (really long pause, like he finally admitted who he was and the relief of it) "NO! I'm kidding. I like pussy."