[Editor’s Note: Today’s post was contributed by a couple who visited Las Vegas specifically for a joint strip club experience. Dancers’ names have been changed out of respect for their privacy and to avoid giving readers an impression of what any specific entertainer may do with guests in a VIP room. What happens in a VIP room is always based on the chemistry between the dancer and the specific guest. Your mileage may differ. — A.S.]
The Bisexual Stirrings
During our 20+ years of marriage, it was readily apparent that my wife was bisexual or, at the very least, bi-curious. It became the subject of many of our fantasies and pornography consumption but taking it any
further than that has proven to be difficult.
Oh sure, if you’re in your 20s in 2019 the concept of bi or gay orientation barely makes a blip on the radar. But for people in their forties, brought up in a traditional Christian home where even straight, monogamous sex within the marital bed has rules, it can be hard to come to terms with a stirring of same-sex attraction. Couple this with an introverted woman that believes in following the rules? You have a very repressed person.
We’ve been coming to Las Vegas with our children for many years. During our last visit, my wife and I had some time alone on Fremont and my wife wanted to drink that night (something we don’t do at home). Alcohol has been one of the few things that relax my wife, and it gives both of us an insight to her repressed self.
We got her a large, strong drink and she had a brief interlude with a street performer that my wife found attractive. There was a little bit of slightly inappropriate contact between them but it was minimal.
We attempted to go back the next night to see if we could foster the stirrings but she said that at that point, even tucking money into a woman’s bra wouldn’t be enough anymore. She wanted more touching.
Let’s do it again! If you are a couple who are looking to enjoy one of Las Vegas’ men’s clubs we’d be thrilled to publish your anonymous account of your visit.
Are you a writer?
What a great story to tell! We’ll edit the story, add some finishing touches, or even interview you if that is easier. If this works for you, please reach out to TVO in the comment box. The comment will be private.
We decided that we would take our next trip to Vegas alone, without the children, and we would go to a strip club to see where that took us. It was only a few months out, during spring break. This was an incredibly big step and I wanted to make sure nothing went wrong.
Pre-Planning and Communications
You will see the word “communication” a lot during this article and it proved to be the most important aspect of this experience. Communications between you and your partner should be as comprehensive as possible and include setting expectations, boundaries and rules. Communication with the dancers is important too and we’ll get to that later.
My wife knows full well that I am really into girl-on-girl. I have been since I’ve been old enough to have an erection. Over the years, my wife opened up to occasional couple’s porn viewing of girl-on-girl videos and was able to tell me what she liked (passionate kissing and breast play/sucking/licking) and what she really didn’t want to see (vagina).
It was this realization that made a strip club a perfect choice; most of them are topless only and do not offer “full service” (sex). This seemed to be a good starting point for my wife to explore.
During the early planning, we briefly discussed the concept of going to a legal brothel (yes, they have those near Las Vegas). My concern was that, like our experience on Fremont Street, my wife wouldn’t get everything she needed from an encounter with a stripper and the experience would end up frustrating her even more.
I voiced my concern openly and my wife admitted that she too worried that she wouldn’t get enough at the club. She wanted to touch breasts, suck on nipples and kiss/caress the woman (it turned out later that she also wanted to spend time on the woman’s butt, but we didn’t know this at the time). I have always wanted to see live girl-on-girl and wanted my wife to be one of them. My requirements were pretty much “whatever I could get my wife to do with another woman” but it turned out that I had a few additional things I wanted. More on this later.
Let’s Talk about Rules
Our rules may seem hypocritical, but they were non-negotiable (at least at first). Her rule was that I wasn’t allowed to touch the strippers (no dances, no touching period). My rule was that there would be no action, lap dances or anything else, without me being present to watch.
LESSON LEARNED: I realized later I should have bargained a little bit over deviations to the rules I wanted. We’ll talk about this more later and why this turned out okay.
I’m big into the details so I started doing my research. I am not strip club savvy. The last time I’d been to one was like 1996; I’d need advice. I started with my more worldly friends and sought out other couples I thought might have done something similar. But our particular situation was largely different from theirs.
Initially I started researching the bisexuality angle with Google searches like “taking my bi-curious wife to a strip club” and “bi girl’s guide to strip clubs.” I didn’t find much that was useful. I found a really good article here, but the comments eventually degenerated into “strip clubs don’t like it when women come.”
I changed direction and started searching for “couples friendly strip clubs in Vegas.” There I found a few names like Treasures and some very good info about how couples should navigate in strip clubs.
Just not enough to really make a plan.
Then I found what I would consider the greatest resource ever, Arnold Snyder’s Topless Vegas website. This resource pretty much single-handedly contributed to the success of our adventure. I read several of his articles about couples including this one and this one. After taking in simply a vast amount of information, I needed to decide which of the couples-friendly clubs I wanted to choose, a decision that would also let me decide how to get the best bang for the bucks.
I narrowed down the venues but, being green with clubs, I felt I needed help in the selection. I reached out to Arnold Snyder directly but expected to get no response. I shared with him our situation. Here is an excerpt that sort of sums it up:
“Arnold, I can’t mess this up. I know a lot of it is out of my control, but I have to do everything and anything to make absolutely sure she gets what she needs and that it is the best experience possible.”
Before I go on, it probably seems absolutely crazy to invest this much time and energy into picking a strip club.
LESSON LEARNED: You can never know enough about your destination. Even after hours of research there are so many more things I wish I’d known ahead of time. That’s why this article exists.
Mr. Snyder pointed to Palomino Club (one of my initial selections) citing the incredibly beautiful women and the great prices for private dances. My wife made it clear that vagina wasn’t of interest to her, but I thought that might be part of the repression. The Palomino Club is the only Las Vegas club with both full nudity and booze. This could have been a bad combo (my wife has low tolerance for booze, though not vagina as it turns out) but it worked out okay.
Now that I had a destination, I could start getting into the details.
Planning and the Palomino Club
There is a vernacular to strip clubbing and even within the vernacular there are interpretations of what words within it mean. “Limo service” and “VIP” … “mileage” … the unofficial rules of “tipping,” and of course all the decorum and etiquette.
I read Arnold’s excellent review of the Palomino Club and then headed over to the official website. Between the two, I got a lot of great information. We had planned to go without a “VIP package” but enough cash to tip a lot, have a few dances and try a couple of “VIP experiences.”
I really wanted my wife to feel sexy for the trip. We went shopping to find “sexy” clothes and something that I thought might make the ladies give her attention. My wife is a plus size, so we headed to Torrid and they helped us pick out a really sexy bra (which was a huge hit with the dancers) and the right outfits.
LESSON LEARNED: This wasn’t just about getting my wife to feel sexy about herself; but to help her feel somewhat outside of her own skin — sort of like an “alter ego.” This let her disassociate from the experience a bit and ended up being a comfort to her on the first day.
Communications. My wife started having second thoughts during the day and hours leading up to the event. We aren’t attractive people; hot people don’t tend to have self-esteem issues. We aren’t hideous monsters, but we don’t fall into any category of “hot.”
She was worried that she would be judged and that the dancers wouldn’t be into her and she would get ignored. As a result, she would disappoint me and this whole thing would be a waste. She also confessed that she was concerned about “mileage” (the amount of touching allowed by the dancer).
We talked this out and I assured her that whatever happened, it would be fine with me. This was for her. Having read all this research material up front I knew that Vegas allowed touching and that the right dancer would allow plenty of mileage to fulfill my wife’s needs. But I was scared also, as I didn’t want anything to interfere with her big night.
LESSON LEARNED: There are a few things that seem universally off-limits no matter how high up the VIP ladder you go or how high the mileage is. Things like “kissing” and “licking” (not just the vagina) as well as any pussy contact seem to be forbidden across the board. This was one area of disappointment to me; I wanted to see my wife making out with a hot dancer and that didn’t happen.
During our five hour drive from Phoenix, we started to consider getting a “VIP Package”; a pre-paid parcel of goods and services. This would allow both of us to drink, have a good time and not have to worry about a bar tab. Plus, we became increasingly concerned that if we went for dances, we would lose our table and end up in a standing-room-only scenario (which would have made my wife miserable). The Palomino offers a “Two of a Kind” package for couples that provides limo service, a “half bottle” (this is just a smaller bottle; not a half empty one — hey, we were new) of wine or premium booze, VIP line skipping (pointless during the hours we came), a reserved table for the night and a pitcher of beer (which they exchanged for mixers) for $162. You get 10% off by purchasing it on the website ahead of time.
LESSON LEARNED: The VIP package is really a requirement if you want to do this right. Not only will it control your bar tab (more later) but it can save you time and grief dealing with losing your table. It also removes questions like “what is the cover? what is the drink minimum?”. The basics are covered. This is aggravation you don’t need — and is well worth the cash in our opinions.
We were to have a pick up time of 7 pm which was recommended by the Palomino Club manager in one of his many replies to reviews on YELP (I reached out to him with questions prior to arrival but didn’t get a response from his email in time, though he did respond eventually).
LESSON LEARNED: Time of arrival is key for couples, especially new visitors to the club. Go a bit earlier and you’ll avoid the drunks and the troublemakers that may show up later. You’ll have slightly less selection in dancers, but at the Palomino there was no shortage of beautiful women regardless of being there at 7 or 8pm. We also got more attention when things were slow.
Saturday Night at Palomino Club
The afternoon of our visit, the limo driver texted us asking for confirmation. Make very sure he has the CORRECT pick-up spot (Plaza and Palazzio aren’t the same place) and be sure you have agreed to a specific pick-up location (in front of the hotel, valet area, etc.) as there is room for misinterpretation.
We ended up standing around for over 45 minutes — the driver had been sent to the strip and he was a good distance away. We tried to communicate over the phone and text but it ended up being a good bit of back and forth. Eventually we were picked up and the adventure could begin. My wife was not super happy at this point; she was out of her element (dressed sexy) and still apprehensive and a bit scared about what the night might hold.
“Limo service.” This lends an idea of a black stretch picking you up. It should be called “shuttle service”. It was more like a little party bus that picks you up. [Arnold Snyder’s note: Most Vegas strip clubs, including Palomino, have a fleet of multiple shuttles, limos and unmarked cars. If you specifically want a limo or unmarked car to pick you up, be sure to ask.] We were very lucky that most times we were in it there were no other passengers. Had it been full of drunk ass frat boys? Might have been a little less fun. It is worth noting that the limo driver on two occasions refused admittance to the “limo” by overtly drunk guys. We really appreciated that.
The driver followed us into the club, made sure we got checked in okay and helped us select a “half bottle” for our bottle service. On our second limo trip in, we were able to converse with the driver and let him know more about what we were looking for (and whom). He called things ahead and they were all ready for us. Remember, this is part of that “VIP Package,” so keep that in mind when you’re looking at the total value for that $162.
The host (aka security/bouncer — they have many roles, more on that later) asked if we had been there before. We said we had not and he took us on a little tour.
It should go without saying that the place is dark. Pretty much the whole place is dark except for the bathrooms and the VIP check-in counters. This keeps it intimate, but frankly a little spooky for first time visitors. Just remember that other customers probably aren’t looking at you and there are security cameras that probably watch every inch of the place.
We were ushered to a small reserved table right at the entrance of the stage (turned out to be the best damn seat in the house for watching) so we got very close up looks at the dancers coming and going. It offered us a means to say something directly to them as they left the stage.
The VIP Package service really is just that. We had a server immediately at our table, bringing us mixers, a pitcher of water, a lit-up tub of ice … it was quite regal. Just remember this when you look up that bottle of Grey Goose later and realize you spent $162 on a $20 bottle of liquor. You are paying for a lot (we’ll tell you what it is like without it later) and it can really end up being a deal.
The club instructs the dancers not to approach people until they’ve been seated, have drinks and look comfortable. It wasn’t long before we were approached by a dancer named M, mid-to-late 20s, sun-kissed skin — solid full B/small C who introduced herself and struck up a conversation.
It was quite obvious she was experienced with couples. We wanted to have some rules upfront — we were here for my wife, not me. We read somewhere that word would get around if you let the dancers or staff know what you were into and what you were looking for.
LESSON LEARNED: If you have rules or a particular type, get this out sooner rather than later. Once it was established that my wife was the target and not me, the ladies that came over to us plopped down on my wife’s lap and kept the friendly pawing off me. As long as you’re polite, everyone seems to be really responsive … even if you aren’t interested.
After some nice conversation, we decided to have a lap dance with M. Well, my wife would have the dance. I would watch.
My Wife’s First Lap Dance
“Lap dance.” This is a public dance with limited mileage. This could happen right at your table but we were taken to an area just off the main floor (still public, but not someplace everyone was going to be staring at). A lap dance lasts for one song (about 3 minutes, with most songs a bit shorter — you won’t get a Bohemian Rhapsody here) and the cost is a fixed price of $20.
It is important to note that these lap dances are under the watchful eye of a bouncer/security member. You probably won’t notice them, but they are there to help keep the dancers safe. This service comes out of the dancer’s fee — I believe it is 10% — or a couple of bucks for each dance. If you really loved your dance ,consider giving her an extra couple of bucks so she gets to keep that whole $20.
My wife asked again about the rules — where could she put her hands? She really wanted some boob play. M had said that touching was really limited outside of VIP experiences (upstairs) and she should be keeping her hands at the waist and legs.
LESSON LEARNED: The rules for women appear to be different, but you shouldn’t assume this. The women that dance for women appear to be a lot more comfortable with them and lap dance mileage was greater for my wife pretty much every single time.
During the dance M guided my wife’s hands to her breasts and pretty much took her on her first journey with another woman. I think this pleased M; she had discussed popping my wife’s “girl cherry” earlier in our conversations at the table. Having watched other lap dances in the club, this was not the norm in terms of mileage … especially for men.
We returned to our table. At this point, my wife started to become a bit overwhelmed; there were a lot of emotions and feelings going on in her head (and elsewhere, for that matter), and this continued to ramp up as the evening went on.
With my wife in her current state, we took the opportunity to watch the show on the main stage.
Enjoying the Nude Stage Show
Despite our goal of getting my wife some girl-on-girl action, this IS a strip club after all. No matter what is happening at your table, or upstairs in a VIP experience or Fantasy Suite, there is a show going on constantly in the middle of the room with an endless stream of dancers to entertain you.
I didn’t think my wife would be into the “stripper” part of the equation, but I couldn’t have been more wrong. Since it became an important piece of the equation, let’s take a look at how this works.
Most of the time, a dancer comes up for two songs (remember, about 3 minutes each). During the first song, they get topless and at the Palomino they get fully nude during the second song. Naturally, during the course of the nudity there is dancing, pole performing and endless ways of earning their tips.
The etiquette as I understand it is that you tip $1 per dancer per song. There are times when multiple dancers will get on the stage (later in the night on Friday and Saturday); at those times, remember you’re tipping for two.
LESSON LEARNED: Being a spectator is an art form in itself. Heavy tippers get attention, but your position and methodology for tipping is important. Our VIP table didn’t get approached frequently from the stage; when we wanted a girl’s attention, we moved ringside and engaged them. Make eye contact. Smile. Send your wife up to do the tipping. Being “present” and silently engaging will get you considerable attention. Throwing a few extra bucks up and showing direct interest signals the dancer you might want to see her after the dance.
My wife really liked the stage dancing. For her, this was not just an audition for what might come later; she really didn’t see the dancers as “naked chicks” for ogling and possibly fondling. She was fascinated by the great diversity in body styles (breasts, vaginas, builds) and in the actual art form of dancing they were doing. The variety of women is simply incredible at Palomino and my wife was very pleased by this as it let her explore the type of woman she was attracted to and see them fully nude as part of the process.
In some cases … more than nude. This turned out to be empowering for my wife as her experience with vagina was very limited. It showed her there was a diversity and that there was no standard for a “hot pussy.” Remember how I said earlier that she had zero interest in vagina? The dancing opened her mind considerably and later on would translate into more confidence in her own body.
My wife’s preconceived notions of her girl “type” were challenged — dare I say smashed — by this visit. Things she had never considered beautiful before (tattoos, piercings) were now appreciated. At the same time, types she had found attractive before — like Asian women — didn’t seem to be interested in her (or us). But the traditional beauty — the blonde, blue-eyed gals my wife always said she wasn’t interested in — were now on the menu (so to speak).
Later my wife would say that the visit to the Palomino had changed what she found as “attractive.” That alone may be a good enough reason to go for the bi-curious woman.
Evaluating the dancers, my wife was drawn to one named V (you can see her on the Palomino website — a rarity — but she was sporting a different look than on the website. My wife didn’t point her out as a “potential” when we were initially browsing the site but found her very attractive in person and on stage.
As she left the stage I asked her to come see us. Several girls we asked did not come over and that was okay. We realized later they probably just were not into women and that was fine. We both agreed we’d rather have willing participants than someone just there to do a job.
We had some conversation with V and then requested a lap dance from her. As before, my wife was allowed a bit more mileage on the floor. After the dance, V assured us that more would happen if we went upstairs to a VIP experience with her.
We accepted. This was our first “off-the-floor” experience and we weren’t completely sure what to expect. We played it safe and said we would take a three song experience for $100.
My Wife’s First Private Strip Club Show
V took us upstairs and she checked in with the bouncer who assigned us a booth we affectionately started calling the “horseshoe room,” since the couch inside was in a U shape.
The horseshoe room is plenty big enough for three people and the couch is comfortable enough. While the VIP intake area is well-lit, you’ll be happy to know that the VIP booth is darker and the privacy curtain does a great job of making you feel alone with the dancer.
LESSON LEARNED: Make no mistake, you are not alone. You’re being watched — even if you don’t feel like it or know it. If you do anything out of line with the dancer, you’ll be seen. We knew all the rules and asked before we did anything questionable. I suggest everyone do the same; there are house rules and dancers have their own rules on top of those.
As agreed, I was merely an observer. The VIP experience was a good step up in the “mileage” department. There was a lot more body on body action, and my wife was able to do quite a bit with V. There was plenty of boob squeezing, lots of caressing and touching along with cuddling and snuggling — more intimacy. There was more grinding and gyrating to be had too, which upped the eroticism.
It is probably worth noting that three songs was a good length of time to get a feel for the chemistry with the dancer. My wife liked V, but we both sort of determined that maybe girls aren’t her thing. She performed well for us — she was very attractive, and we enjoyed it — but we knew we weren’t done for the night. Not by a long shot.
Thanks to our “Two of a Kind” couple’s package our table was right where we left it and everything was intact as well. The place had been getting busier and knowing we could come and go from the table as we pleased really made us appreciate the package even more. This doesn’t mean you should leave valuables behind, though.
LESSON LEARNED: Pack light so you can always bring everything with you when you leave the floor. Guys bring a wallet … gals bring a clutch (they hold lots of singles) and maybe one cell phone between you. Less is more.
After V, my wife needed to calm down a bit. As I mentioned before, she was getting more and more overwhelmed as the night went on and V had really ramped things up.
We weren’t sure what was next for us. We weren’t ready to go back to the hotel for sure but weren’t clear on what to do next. More and more dancers were streaming in, giving us plenty to look at while we drank (mostly mixers and water — we had drunk enough earlier to have a buzz and then some) and we were just going with the flow.
My wife wanted me to add something here. Her biggest fear was being judged (yeah, I know — at a strip club) but she assured me that she never once felt that way the entire time we were here. Not by the staff, not by the dancers and not even by the clientele. This meant a lot to us.
As the night moved on, we got approached more frequently by a variety of dancers but my wife still wasn’t ready to venture forward. I think in addition to the overwhelming nature of things, she was enjoying the hell out of the stage show.
Then L Danced
L has become almost a household word for us since the Palomino Club. We speak of her frequently and think about her even more. But I’m getting ahead of myself.
Her dance number was fantastic (not the Best of Show, but my wife’s attraction for her was unmistakable and that made it better). We tipped well and as she left the stage we said we would VERY much like to see her later.
It wasn’t five minutes after her departure that she approached our table, still glistening with sweat from her performance. We engaged in conversation easily and my wife was very eager to put her hands on that great dancer body.
My wife received a very hands-on lap dance with her in the dark ‘off-floor’ room and she got plenty of mileage. It was quite obvious she was smitten with L.
Maybe L was a bit smitten by her too.
L said we could take things upstairs and she would give us a good deal. It was almost immediately that we nodded and agreed — we needed time with her in the VIP experience, starting with the three-song package.
This was when we found out there was room for negotiations. We didn’t ask; she offered. In some flight of fancy, we both thought maybe she liked us. After all, we did try to be personable and super nice to all the women we engaged with.
You’ve probably heard the expression, “Never fall in love with a stripper.” Probably wise advice.
The process worked similarly to V; L checked us in and we were taken to the horseshoe room for our time with her.
LESSON LEARNED: At this level of “VIP experience,” a lot of things are up to the dancer, including the price and to some extent the length of time you spend. There appears to be some latitude — and we saw this with L. Remember, no matter how smitten you might be, it may pay to negotiate, even if it is just enough to cover the tip that gets paid to the VIP bouncer.
L showed us a great time. My wife got to be really handsy with her (I was still only there as an observer) and L did a great performance. There was some fun awkwardness that happened (I hope she reads this and I wouldn’t want her to be embarrassed by saying what happened) but it only made her more endearing to us and gave us even more stories to tell about our time with her.
Seeing my wife’s reaction and how much she liked her, I asked her if she wanted more time with L, but I think she had reached a saturation point by then. We tipped L very well and we made sure we covered her share of the VIP bouncer fees that she would have had to pay out of pocket.
At that point, my wife said she was ready to go; she couldn’t handle too much more. I still had the phone number of our limo driver and he said he was about 40 minutes out. We took in more of the show, but didn’t partake in any more dances or VIP experiences the rest of the night. We enjoyed some more of L’s company in a non-sensual way and I do believe we got to see her dance again.
By this point, we were talking about coming back the next night and we mentioned to L that we might come back. We told her that if we did, we would very much like to see her again. She wasn’t sure what her schedule was, so we sort of said our goodbyes, unsure of what the future would hold.
We gathered our booze bottle (still mostly full) and boarded the shuttle back to the hotel. We were both a bit tired (it was late) and both of us were pretty overwhelmed at this point — my wife from living out some of her repressed sexual desires and me from living out some of my greatest fantasies of seeing my wife with another woman.
Now, you would think (and I wager this is how it USUALLY goes down with many couples) that when we got back to the hotel that we would have attacked each other and the night would have ended with an incredible sexual experience.
It didn’t. But that’s okay.
Look, we had a big night. We’d both been drinking. We were both exhausted. We didn’t have sex, but neither of us felt jilted over it. That’s an important thing to take in here. I could have easily thought that by unlocking my wife’s desires for women it would make her want ME less … and she could have easily thought that after seeing all those hot dancers I would want HER less. Nothing could have been further from the truth.
It might seem that the story should end here but it doesn’t and the most important things we learned were yet to come.
Sunday Night at The Palomino
While we had lightly discussed it the previous night, it wasn’t a slam dunk that we were going to go back to Palomino on Sunday night.
We headed to Denny’s at the end of Fremont (our “go to” breakfast place when we stay at the Plaza) and we discussed the possibility of returning to the Palomino Club that night. We talked about wanting to see L again.
Don’t fall in love with a stripper.
We decided we could probably drive ourselves and not go with the package deal. Since it was a Sunday, we figured we wouldn’t be fighting for a table all night and, if L DID show up, we wanted to take her to a Fantasy Suite experience (which was pricey) so we wanted to save some cash for that.
We both had two sets of “clubbing clothes” with us but my wife wanted to dress down a bit. This told me she was growing more comfortable with the club and she was worried less about being judged or ignored.
We avoided the cover by getting there before 8 pm and, while the server was attentive, there is a big difference between “VIP package” customer and “walk in off the street” customer. The latter isn’t poorly treated, mind you, but the former feels like royalty.
Since we both got pretty sauced up the night before, we elected to go easy on the booze and order our drink minimums with mixers with some water to wash it down.
LESSON LEARNED: Our bar tab without a package was over $100 just in mixers and water. When you’re on a package, pitchers of water flow like wine. When you’re “off the street,” they bring you $6.50 bottles of water. The package is the way to go.
Yes, Sunday was a bit slower at first. My wife seemed perfectly content watching the show and chatting with some of the girls that came our way. We indulged ourselves, going up to the stage more frequently to make sure the ladies knew we were watching and appreciated their performances.
We got many offers for dances, but I could tell my wife was really hoping for L to make an appearance. We did learn a few tricks of the trade during this more passive time.
Our Top Las Vegas Strip Club Tip
LESSON LEARNED: If you want hot girls to hang out with you for more than a few minutes, have bottles of water on hand, not pitchers and glasses. I don’t blame them for not accepting “open drinks,” even from a harmless middle-aged couple. Dancing is thirsty work and more than one was extremely grateful to have the water bottles.
We were quite content to get attention from the beautiful women, and pleased that for a $6.50 bottle of water, they would sit and chat us up. My wife was getting plenty of attention from the dancers, many of whom remembered us from the night before.
As the night pressed on, L was nowhere to be found. Once we gave up hope that she would return, we were enchanted by another very beautiful woman: C.
Much more my type than my wife’s, C was a tall blonde beauty. But that didn’t stop my wife from getting a lap dance. Once again I watched my significant other fondle a gorgeous dancer.
We were both enchanted. In a room full of beautiful, mostly naked women, she stood out from the crowd. We would say later that she was simply too hot to be a stripper, and honestly, too hot to be with the two of us.
That made C Fantasy Suite material.
Sure, we were sad that we wouldn’t get to be with L, but at this point, it was the last hurrah for us. This would be our last night and if we couldn’t have our first choice in the Fantasy Suite then by God we were going to have the most beautiful woman there that night.
After C left us post-lap dance, we discussed our immediate future and what we wanted to do. C was gorgeous and we were certain that (even on a Sunday) she would not be available much that night. If we wanted her, we needed to make a decision, and it would be the final one for the trip.
Now, one of my fantasies is that I really want to see my wife making out with another woman. There is an immediate intimacy to that act and she wanted it too. I wasn’t sure how to navigate those waters and we also wanted to make sure that “mouth on nipple” action was going to pass muster as well.
Being more clear-headed that night (sans booze) I decided to treat this as the business transaction it was. I asked C directly.
Kissing was off the table. She said, “I don’t do that” (I get it, but house rule or hers?) but pretty much the rest was on the table. I knew my wife was into her and we made the arrangements.
The Fantasy Suite
This was the brass ring on the strip club merry-go-round. We were told there were two suites available, one with a bed and one with a huge couch. Price was the same and frankly I was sure more fun would happen on a bed (in hindsight, I’m guessing the net result would have been the same either way, but I’m glad we went “bed” with C).
We went with a 30-minute session in the Fantasy Suite for the sum of $250. This also required a $100 “bottle service” which meant more booze we weren’t going to drink as well as an additional tip for the bottle server, making the experience (including tips) about $400.
The Fantasy Suite is real business for the club. This transaction was handled at the VIP experience counter by the VIP host/bouncer and all money was paid there, not to the dancer.
C took us into the room and said that the bottle service would be along shortly and that our time didn’t start until after the bottle server had left.
In the meantime, she asked us what music we wanted to listen to, as they had a music system loaded with every type of playlist ever. We went with 80’s soft rock.
LESSON LEARNED: Music is a powerful thing. Even weeks later when a song comes on from this playlist, I am instantly taken back to this experience. That might be what you want, but it could have some side effects. More about this in a bit.
The bottle service came and went and it was time to get down to the fun.
The Dancer and I Pleasure My Wife
It was at this point that I realized my wife was starting to come into her own. She was less shy and reserved and sort of took over. You might think that being in a $350 fantasy experience would mean that the mileage might go even higher and even more things might be allowed, but that wasn’t necessarily the case. Oh, don’t get me wrong — my wife went to town and I started to learn more about what we were actually doing there — but the net mileage was similar to the horseshoe room. The bed did allow me to lay next to my wife or C though (depending on who was on top) and there was value in that to me.
Watching my wife and this unbelievably hot woman doing things to each other was … insane. C felt my wife up through her clothes and my wife was kissing every part of C’s body that was allowed. This was when my wife discovered she wasn’t all about the breasts, that she was an ass gal also. C was absolutely perfect in this department as well. Touching, squeezing, kissing … my wife did it all.
The C Experience affected me, too. I was so caught up in my wife and this beautiful woman that I almost passed out. There is probably a joke here about insufficient blood flow to my head, but it was much more than that. I was part of Something Important here and it was just too intense to process in real time.
Something happened between C and me, too. While it never actually became what one might call a “threesome,” I started to become a participant in a strange sense of the word. I got more involved with my wife as she was getting involved with C. The dancer and I would look back and forth at each other, acknowledging our parts of the equation and sharing something intimate — both together being part of my wife’s pleasure. It was then when I realized that I wanted to be a bigger part of this all — not get it on with the dancer per se, but rather be an integral player in this incredible experience.
I asked if I could touch a little — not the boobs or anything, but just touch. Surprisingly, my wife said yes, but she set rules and chimed in if she thought I was breaking them.
This lead to some great fun as we got more comfortable. My wife was still looking to kiss every inch of this beautiful piece of artwork and I was helpfully finding out new places for her to do it. Affectionately called “the mole hunt,” I would point out various cute little moles on C and she would kiss on them. We also created the “wife sandwich” between us. Both are expressions we still bring up when recounting the experience.
Dynamics of the event had changed. I was able to be involved and my wife was not threatened.
Earlier I said that I probably should have spoken up about wanting to be more involved, but in hindsight, it probably worked out exactly the way it should have. The timing and situation had to play out and we both benefited from the waiting game.
LESSON LEARNED: Remember, if you’re in my shoes, constantly go back to the permissions well as the interaction moves forward. Make sure the dancer understands that there are some rules in place and they will be more likely to ask if/how/when they can interact with you. More on this later.
The time with C came to an end, and unlike our “horseshoe time” with L, there was no room for overtime in occupancy. She took us back downstairs and chatted us up a bit after, telling me again that my wife was going to “fuck the shit out of me” later that night.
It was time to go. We’d blown the wad (so to speak) and we had blown through the cash we’d planned to spend that night, with just enough to tip the valet when we got back to the hotel. Hey, we like to tip the dancers, and even a giant stack of ones eventually ends up gone.
This is when we paid the bar tab on a credit card and realized that “no package” was no deal. And if we were ever to come back in the future, it will be “VIP package” all the way.
It is hard to believe that after the “C Experience” we were still left pining for L, but that is exactly what happened.
We took Monday off, absolutely sure we weren’t going back for a third night.
Don’t fall in love with a stripper.
Tuesday Night at The Palomino
We decided at Tuesday morning breakfast at Denny’s that we were going to make one more attempt to see L before we left. And if she was there? We would return to the Fantasy Suite with her.
Having learned our lesson on Sunday, we pre-paid for the “Two of a Kind” package (by the way, you can’t drive yourself if you buy the package because you’ll waive a lot of your benefits … just try saying “no” to the Limo Service when you order your package online) and arranged for a pick up time to be sure we were there by 8 pm. We knew from chatting with L that she tended to come in a bit later, but we were going early to have some time to watch the show.
In fact, we promised ourselves no big expenditures unless L was there. Tipping, lap dances, sure, but no VIP experiences or trips to the Fantasy Suites.
The third night was great. But then, we were practically regulars. We knew the waters and how to navigate them. We engaged with our driver (different guy … both drivers were fantastic, by the way) and he ordered ahead our booze and got our table reserved. He also called the dispatcher and asked if L had come in (the girls aren’t on a schedule; they come in when they like and stay as long as they like). She had not reported in.
When we arrived, we asked the dispatcher to tell L, if she came in, that we were there waiting for her, “the couple from Phoenix.”
A sort of celebrity was at the club — Reagan Reilly. While most dancers hide their identities (not showing photos on social media, using one-word stage names, etc.) Reagan is a gal who is proud of who she is and what she does. You can Google her right now and get plenty of information and pictures of her. She tours clubs and does a lot of promotion, and my wife really liked her dancing. We tipped well and engaged her silently ringside. She understood and dropped by after her performance.
Stripper Small Talk
This might be a good time to discuss “stripper small talk.” One of the things that my wife and I discussed on the way over was, “what do we talk to them about?” We didn’t want to be intrusive, rude or misunderstood and honestly we wanted to be interesting to them too.
The destination is fun, but the journey can be entertaining as well.
In our case, the dancers that approached us were comfortable with couples (and specifically women) and even those that weren’t — and you could tell — are practiced in the art of safe small talk. They will engage you and you can usually follow their lead with regards to topics and direction.
LESSON LEARNED: Treat these women like regular, real people and it will take you a long way. Some of them are just there for “the job,” while others seem to enjoy their work (we’re looking at you, R) and actually appreciate some non-frat-boy talk. You don’t want to get too personal unless they venture there, but as with any other conversation, talk ABOUT them TO them and be genuine. This will pay off, not just in how long the dancers may stay with you and chat but also in how much attention they will pay you during these conversations and during a lap dance or VIP experience.
My wife is a horrible introvert but she really was able to engage and communicate with the dancers and many of them seemed to like her (and us as a couple). Granted, they could just be very good at their jobs, but we were able to figure out by the end of the third night who seemed to enjoy being with us and who was there simply offering their services.
Reagan was a real pro with regards to chit-chat. Some of it was well-measured and practiced, but over time she felt more real and we really enjoyed the more real-world conversations we were able to have with her. My wife found her engaging and told her that we were waiting for someone, but a lap dance later was definitely NOT out of the question and to check in with us periodically.
About 9:30 or so, L showed up and came straight to our table. She was very excited to see us and we were obviously delighted to see her. She sat down with us and we talked about the last couple of days. She said she couldn’t believe someone had asked for her and she was so happy it was us. She even went so far as to say she’d mentioned us to some of her friends (now that can’t be true, right?). [Arnold’s note: It’s true.]
After a bit, she got called up to the stage, and this time you could tell: she was dancing for us.
My wife and I couldn’t wait for her to get off the stage. At one point, we considered waiting until later in the night, but it was clear that neither of us could stand it much longer.
She came back to our table still glistening from her performance and I believe my exact words were, “We need you in the Fantasy Suite right now.” She was excited and said she would take care of us at a great discount.
This is where we found out that the Fantasy Suite doesn’t have a “coupon day.” The VIP bouncer said the rate was fixed and non-negotiable (I even tried to negotiate the bottle service, but no go, not even on a Tuesday night).
She was visibly upset but we said we didn’t care — we’d pay the fee for 35 minutes in the bed suite.
Just as with C, we got the bottle service and selected music, and because we were so familiar and comfortable with L already, my wife took charge and the two of them had an incredible experience. She boldly explored L’s body and it was reciprocated as well. She told L she wanted to “worship her ass” and asked her to turn over — again really getting into it. My introverted, repressed wife was doing crazy things to a hot young woman’s body.
Oh don’t worry — I got in on things too. With our comfort level from being with L again and my wife’s growing confidence in the situation, I was allowed to do more, including cupping and squeezing L’s breasts and touching her all over.
Again, I played this very cautiously. I confirmed both verbally and mentally with my wife (frequently) that I was still within her comfort zone. Communication. I stayed away from more intimate things like kissing L’s neck or body or burying my face in her … anywhere; I was able to sort of figure out by this time what was going to work out and what wasn’t.
Mostly I stayed out of my wife’s way. It was clear L was hers and I was just damn lucky to be present at all.
It was during this time with her that I realized more about what was happening between my wife and me along with this beautiful woman.
It was a sort of a worship. My wife and I were sharing this body in a form of worship — the viewing and tactile response of her smooth, pale skin. The kissing of the birthmark on her leg. The caressing of her belly button chain going around her midriff. The pinching of her hard nipples. This wasn’t sex; it was something else.
Sure it was SEXUAL, but for us it transcended a primordial baser desire. My wife and I were experiencing a joint event that would really change us as people and as a couple. We were engaged in something together with another person that is hard to describe.
As a husband, I was part of an awakening of my partner — a decades long repression finally being released. I guess whenever two people go through some sort of incredible experience together, they are closer when it is done. But that is usually something traumatic or terrible, and this was anything but.
Later I would realize that the C Experience was the first part of the equation. Remember how I almost passed out? I was moved beyond words that I had shared something this big with another human being (my wife). I just didn’t realize the impact until later.
In fact, on the day following C I had a couple of incredibly emotional moments when the radio played a song from the Fantasy Suite playlist. It really upset my wife, but I couldn’t help it or explain it until sometime later. This wasn’t a side-effect I had planned on having. I was even going to leave it out of the story but I think it is important to include. I know this was supposed to be a fun sexy romp but I was having some sort of life-altering epiphany.
By the time we got to the same room with L, I had gotten that emotion under control and was able to appreciate this event for what it was.
There were several times when my wife flat out told L to stop what she was doing or she was going to “break the rules” and get us thrown out. I am assuming this had to do with what was between L’s legs (something my wife seemed to have not only gotten over her repulsion of, but started to embrace … at least on the right woman).
It might be a “stripper thing” to say, but even L said she was getting turned on during that session. I have some visual confirmation to believe that might actually be true. Just because we weren’t allowed to touch her nether region didn’t mean she couldn’t.
Things were hot and heavy when our time ran out. We were pretty damn close to dropping another $350 for another half hour, but my wife convinced me to save the cash and get a follow up session with L in the horseshoe room.
LESSON LEARNED: My wife and I both agree that a return trip to the Fantasy Suite doesn’t make a lot of sense for us. We got everything we wanted through the cheaper, more-negotiable horseshoe room. I’m not saying everyone should skip this experience, but if you are hoping for more mileage or something more grandiose to take place in there, it isn’t likely to happen.
We spent another 30 minutes (or was it an hour?) with L in the horseshoe room. Knowing full well this was the last of our experiences, we really made it count. L would do something to my wife, then ask her if it was okay if she did that to me, too. This was allowed (I think mostly so that L’s crotch would be presented to her face during “my time” with her) and this sort of body worshipping between us was even more exciting with both of us participating together.
My wife told me later that their faces got so close to each other that another rule may have been violated soon too. Unfortunately I missed that exchange (probably because it was my turn to view L’s gorgeous backside). Maybe the kissing rule was a HOUSE rule, and not the dancers.
We completed the VIP experience and we headed back downstairs. L pulled up a chair to our table and sat with us for probably a good hour. She didn’t return to the stage or see anyone else that evening. Somewhere around 10:30 or so, she said she was really tired and was just going to go home. After all her hard work with us, I didn’t blame her. It takes a lot of energy to move like that for almost an hour.
After she left, Reagan returned and asked if my wife was ready for that dance. She accepted and we went over to the “off-the-floor” dark area where she gave my wife a lot of mileage.
We returned to our table and my wife suggested that I get a dance from Reagan as well.
This shows how far my wife had come since we arrived. From “hands off, watching only” to “you should get a dance from Reagan.”
I got my dance with my wife watching. I withheld the mileage, although my face did find out that Reagan’s boobs are not real.
For the remaining time on Tuesday, we just watched the show.
The last piece of the story I wanted to make sure got out revolved around a rather exotic and unusual dancer we saw a couple of different nights. The dancer’s name was Y.
If you’ve seen her, you know who I’m talking about. She is atypical from the usual lineup of classic dancers, but she is quite impressive to watch. My wife noted her performance on several occasions and tipped her well but always from a distance.
On that last night, my wife stood up and applauded at the conclusion of her show (yep, this is the same repressed introvert that started off this story) and yelled out a supportive cheer for Y.
Unfortunately, my wife thought maybe Y had misinterpreted the cheer for a sneer or jeer. Y had made some sort of remark back that may have been some sort of “insult counter,” but we couldn’t hear.
At that very moment, our driver arrived and we had to go. At first, my wife sort of let it go, but over the next several hours (back at the hotel) it really bothered her that she may have hurt Y’s feelings.
Oddly, this consumed my wife. So much, in fact, that we almost went to the club for a fourth night on the off-chance she would be there, so my wife could make sure things were okay and her appreciation hadn’t been mistaken. It wasn’t until the afternoon on Wednesday that she decided she was okay and we didn’t need to go back.
This was probably for the best. I was kind of excited for yet another night, but that sort of lifestyle will break the bank before too long.
Oddly, that Friday after we returned home to Phoenix, Keith O’Connell (the marketing manager for the Palomino) did return the email I’d sent the Thursday afternoon before the trip. He’d had a family emergency and was very sorry he hadn’t gotten back to me sooner.
I told him about our experiences and did some fact checking for this article with him. His help was greatly appreciated. Oh, and he promised to pass along our message to Y.
Few people know what actually happened that week in Vegas. I’ve been allowed to discuss it with my close friends (several of whom read this article and might even be looking at it as I’m typing this). Our family and friends know something happened that week because we don’t discuss it. We didn’t post a bunch of pictures from the trip like we normally do and are overall closed-lipped about it.
My wife is still processing everything some six weeks later. Fortunately, I’ve had this article to help me process what happened from my end. I tried to get her direct participation but she wasn’t ready. Instead she contributed to the facts and ensured I captured the important elements from her point of view. I went back to her frequently while telling this story because I think it is only valuable if the reader knows everything from all points of view.
She pretty much knows she’s bisexual now, but she fears what comes with that label — how people may perceive her and treat her. Her job is particularly busy and stressful this time of the year and she can’t focus on anything else, but when the stress of that subsides, I believe she will have time to come to terms with this and start the process of coming out about it. She’s already talking about who she is going to tell first. Once she breaks the silence it should be downhill from there.
There are noticeable, positive changes in her since we’ve returned. She has gained confidence in herself in many areas (especially in the bedroom). Some of her introverted ways have eased up a little and she engages in dialogue with women more easily. Plus, it is obvious now that her mind is more open on what she finds appealing.
Baby steps. Rome didn’t come out of the closet in a day.
We talk about the trip all the time. The Palomino Club has become an important landmark to us and the residents of that establishment are rooted in our relationship. She says she thinks about it every single day. She says she is glad that we don’t live in Las Vegas because her feelings for L might have gotten us all in trouble eventually.
We have discussed visiting clubs here in Phoenix but there is apprehension. Along with my wife’s proclivities on the matter, we’re also pretty sure none of the clubs here can measure up to the Palomino Club and we don’t want to be disappointed.
We’ve already started laying out plans for a summer trip to Vegas and the Palomino — this time no longer the freshman couple at the club. I’m hoping to finally meet new friends like Keith and Arnold as well as re-acquaint ourselves with our favorite beautiful dancers like C, M, Reagan, V, R and of course L.
I used to make fun of the idea of being regulars at the strip club, but I understand now. There is a culture surrounding it, a sort of mystique and titillation that truly is an escape from the everyday humdrum life we all live nine to five, Monday through Friday.
My wife asks me why I smile every time we talk about our trip and accuses me (mostly playfully) of just wanting to see a bunch of naked women again.
The truth is that she is a different person in that environment or even when she is thinking about it. Gone is the repressed introvert that is trapped in her own shell. There is another (happier?) woman in there. It makes me ecstatic to see her able to escape that puritan prison to exercise those desires that — even on the back of a stack of singles — make her a more complete person.
Do you have questions for either of us? Please post them in the Comments below or send them to email@example.com and we’ll do our best to be as forthright as possible and help you succeed in your new adventures.