That would also explain why when I read 'Interstitial' by McAuley that
he put on his website recently I found it somewhat familiar. So
evidence mounts for this issue.

This is the bit I was misremembering it looks like :-

I'm not sorsh, but I'm not immune to pheromones, myself. Nor was
OCallan. His hair was slick to his head, his eyes wild, his wet
clothes clinging to his body, a very good body, at that. He took my
hand, pulling me into a close embrace that owed something to a tango,
and much more to a different kind of dance. He wanted me. I wanted
him. The sorsh were in favor. But then, they always are. They don't
want to watch, but they do want to be within scent distance. They bask
in the pheromones I give off. I don't mind; hell, why not? It's the
closest they're going to get to sex on this planet.

The whole story is actually here :-

http://www.asimovs.com/_issue_0202/MODESaurian.html