Chapter 13: The Pajama Club

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Allison asked Greg as they sat in their hotel room on Saturday morning. Despite easily being able to afford it, Greg had never been to Las Vegas before, but Allison had come up with the idea of spending a weekend there. So far he had blown a couple of grand at the casinoes, just pocket change to a wealthy man like him. But that wasn't the real reason they were here. Tonight, Allison had something planned for him, something she had kept secret except for a bare minimum of information.

"Hey, you're the one who insisted on dragging me along," he joked. "Don't tell me you're getting cold feet."

"Me? No, of course not. I just wanted to make sure you weren't going to back out at the last minute. After all, this is something unlike anything you've ever done before."

"I think it will be good for me. You know me; I'm just a boring old man who doesn't know how to have fun."

"That's not true!" Allison exclaimed.

"Well, compared to you, I don't know how to have fun," he qualified.

"Okay, maybe that's true," she smiled, and they both laughed.

"But seriously," he said, "you seem so free, so unrestrained, and yet, you also seem a lot happier than me. Sometimes I'm jealous. So maybe I just need to learn to loosen up a little, and I think this is going to help."

"Okay, but you have to admit, this is kind of a big first step. If you're at all uncomfortable with it, we can call the whole thing off. We can just spend some time alone right here in our room."

"No, I'd like to try it. Who knows? I might even have fun."

Allison laughed. "I sure hope you have fun, since that's kind of the point."

"Yeah, I guess you're right."

"And you don't mind that I'm not telling you what you're getting into?"

"I suspect that you're keeping it as a surprise because if I knew, I would back out. But that's exactly the kind of thing I want to experience. Something I would never choose to do if I were making the decision."

He wasn't completely in the dark, however. Allison had made all of the arrangements, and given him three bits of information. First, someone would meet them here at the hotel to take them to a very exclusive, very expensive, and very discreet establishment. That suggested he was in for a very interesting time indeed. Second, it was known as the Pajama Club. Third, and related to the second, all the guests were expected to wear their pajamas. It seemed a little juvenile, but fun nonetheless. They wore their regular clothes right now but had their pajamas in a couple of handbags to change on the way.

They heard a knock at the door, and Allison strode over to open it. A man stood there in what looked like a chauffer's uniform.

"Hello," he smiled. "I'm Carl from the Pajama Club."

"We're Greg and Allison."

"Nice to meet you. Are you ready?"

"We just need to check out first," she replied.

"Of course. I'd be happy to help you with your luggage. Keep your carryons with your pajamas, but I'll stow the rest for you."

He took both of their suitcases, then they locked up the room and headed for the elevator. Greg and Allison exited on the ground floor while Carl continued down to the parking garage beneath the hotel. The Primdales headed over to the desk to check out. The process took a few minutes, during which Carl reappeared and met them in the lobby. Then the three of them once more entered the elevator and rode it down to the parking garage.

They had to walk quite a distance to the parking spot, but eventually they reached their transportation. It was an unmarked truck about the size of a moving van. It surprised Greg at first, until he realized that it fit in nicely with the whole secrecy of the event. What better transportation than a nondescript van like this? Still, it seemed a little plain considering what Greg was paying for a single night at the Pajama Club.

When Carl opened the back door, however, the quote "don't judge a book by its cover" jumped into Greg's mind. Instead of the cold, empty interior he expected, he was surprised to see what appeared to be a comfortable living room, with carpeted floor, bright ceiling lamp, and two couches facing each other on opposite walls. It looked rather homey and comfortable, like the living room of a small house or at least the waiting room of an office.

A pretty young girl sat on one of the couches reading a magazine. She looked to be about Lissa's age, or perhaps even younger, with straight brown hair and a cute little slightly upturned nose and pouty lips. Greg was startled to see that she wore only a lacy white negligee. Then he realized, considering the instructions that Allison and he had been given, her attire wasn't so strange after all.

She glanced up as the door opened and smiled at them. "Come on in," she greeted in a friendly voice. "There's plenty of room, and I don't bite. Unless you ask me very nicely."

Carl lowered the ramp from the bottom of the truck and locked it in place. Allison immediately started up it. Greg hesitated for a moment. Now he was starting to have second thoughts about this whole thing. Should he really be doing this? After all, what if people found out? From what Allison had told him, it was hardly innocent; and if what he saw now hinted at things to come, things might get pretty wild indeed.

His wife turned around and smiled at him. "Coming, dear?" she asked.

He had to go through with it, he realized. Not for her sake, but for his own. He needed to do something absolutely contrary to his character in order to get over his old and boring ways.

The first step was the hardest. After that it became much easier, and he found himself ascending the ramp to the pleasant and inviting room. Before he knew it, he was standing inside. Carl slid the ramp back into its slot, then closed the doors.

"Have a seat," the girl told them, so Allison and Greg sat down in the couch opposite her. Allison, sensing Greg's uneasiness, took his hand.

"My name is Lonnie," the girl introduced with a smile. "I'll be your hostess for the trip to the Pajama Club."

"I'm Allison, and this is my husband Greg," Allison replied.

Lonnie glanced at him, and he realized that he was staring. He turned away, growing red. The girl didn't seem to mind though, but gave a friendly laugh. "Let me guess. This is your first time to the Pajama Club."

He nodded.

"Don't worry," Lonnie reassured him. "A lot of men are nervous their first time. Just relax and enjoy yourselves."

Just then they heard the engine start up, then a jerk as the van began to move.

"You can change into your pajamas now if you want, or you can wait until we're nearing the club," Lonnie told them. She pointed toward the front of the truck, where Greg now noticed a door in the wall. "You can use the restroom to change, if you're so inclined," she said, "but if you want to change out here, that's fine too."

"Well I don't know about you," Allison said to Greg, "but I think I'll so ahead and slip into something more comfortable right now."

"While you're changing, can I offer you a drink?" asked Lonnie, nodding toward what appeared to be a fully stocked bar in the corner.

"I'll have a gin and tonic, if you wouldn't mind," Allison smiled.

"And for you?" Lonnie asked Greg.

"Bourbon, please. After I've changed."

As she poured the drinks, Allison began to unbutton her blouse. Greg picked up his bag and headed into the restroom. It was roomier inside than he expected. He had thought it would be about the size of an airport restroom, but instead it was about the size of the shower in the master bedroom of his mansion, quite roomy in fact. There was a toilet on one wall, hooks for clothes on the other, and a large mirror on the third, presumably so that he could see how he looked in his pajamas. He immediately set to work changing out of his clothes and into his pajamas. They were the typical button-down night shirt and pants, more functional than glamorous. Allison had assured him that it didn't matter; the point wasn't fashion, but just to have a fun time.

He stuffed his daytime clothes into his overnight bag and stepped out of the room. Allison was completely naked except for her lacy black, thigh-high stockings that she had worn all day. As usual, her nudity didn't seem to bother her at all, even in front of a complete stranger. He wondered if she would have felt the same way if Lonnie were a man.

As he made his way over and sat down on the couch, Allison fished through her bag and retrieved her own pajamas. "Pajamas" was probably a misnomer. It consisted of a black lace teddy that matched her stockings. She sat down next to him and slipped it on, though it hardly made a difference. It was transparent enough that it really didn't hide anything; her nipples were clearly visible through the thin fabric, and he could even see the outline of the slit between her legs.

"I bought it especially for tonight," she told him. "Do you like it?"

"Wow," he breathed. "That is so ... so..."

"Sexy?" she asked.

He nodded, a stupid grin on his face, then sat down next to her.

"I guess it's doing its job," Lonnie said. "Of course, it may not be such a good idea to let you two into the club after all," she teased. "The guys are going to spend more time staring at your wife than at the girls."

The girls. Greg thought about the implications of that. He hadn't really doubted that this was going to be anything but a sexual experience. That meant four general categories for what the Pajama Club could be. It could be a nudist resort of some kind, but the fact that everyone wore at least some clothes ruled out that possibility. It could be some kind of swingers' club. He had heard about those, but didn't think it was likely in this case, because Allison had already said she didn't want to have sex with other men. That left two other options: a strip club, or a brothel. Either way, there were bound to be a lot of young lovelies there. Still, hearing it confirmed from Lonnie's own mouth excited him.

He wondered about the whole legality of it, though. Lonnie looked too young to be in that kind of business. He decided to find out if his suspicions were correct.

"Do you mind if I ask you something?" said Greg.

"Not at all," Lonnie smiled.

"How old are you?"

The girl laughed. "How old do you think I am?"

"Well, I've got a sixteen-year-old daughter, and you can't be any older than her."

"I'll take that as a compliment. Actually, I'm eighteen. The Pajama Club hires the youngest-looking girls it can find."

"Not much future in the business, I guess," he commented.

"Not in the Club, no. But when they decide to let me go, I'm guaranteed a transfer to one of their other affiliates. Believe me, they treat you well."

"But you are ... I mean ... this is..."

"What?" she asked.

"Um ... maybe I shouldn't say it. If I'm wrong, it might sound offensive."

A knowing smile crept onto Lonnie's face. "It's a brothel," she told him. "That's what you were going to ask, isn't it?"

"Well ... yes."

"If you didn't know what you were getting into, why are you here?" she smiled.

"I'm afraid that's my fault," Allison replied. "We wanted to try out something new, so I set this up as a surprise for him."

Lonnie laughed. "And what a surprise it is!" she exclaimed. "Don't worry, Greg. Just relax and have a good time. The girls will take good care of you."

"So it doesn't surprise you that my own wife set up a visit to a brothel for me?" asked Greg.

"Not really. It happens more than you would expect. Some couples just want to try something different to add a little excitement to their marriages. No different from a swingers' club or a key party really."

"Yes, I suppose you're right."

"In case you're wondering, you're allowed to have sex with me during the trip if you want. I don't recommend it, because the couch isn't the most comfortable place to do it, and because you'll disappoint the girls at the club if you're too tired for them when you arrive. But that's up to you."

"Um, I think I'll wait if you don't mind," he said. It was the second time in his life that a girl had offered to have sex with him the first time he met her. He had taken the first one up on the offer, and had never regretted it since. On the other hand, he was still a little nervous about this whole thing, and might not be able to perform until he had a chance to relax and get into the mood a little more.

The rest of the trip was relatively uneventful. He had a couple of drinks to loosen him up a little, not enough to get drunk but just enough to calm his nerves. Lonnie was bright and cheerful the whole time, which helped to keep him relaxed. If the atmosphere in the club was anything like the atmosphere in the van, he would probably enjoy himself.

He had never visited a brothel before, and had never really planned to. Even the last couple of years when his ex-wife had grown a little cold to him, he had remained loyal to her, not once ever considering being unfaithful. He still had issues with committing adultery, but since his new wife not only accepted it but encouraged it, he figured he might as well try it once.

The journey took several hours, which didn't really surprise him. There was a certain secretive mystique about the whole thing. Despire Lonnie's assurance that it was all legal, there was probably something about the Pajama Club that might put some people off. No doubt they didn't want picketers trying to get it shut down, so they kept the location hidden even from their clients.

The length of the journey suggested that it was outside of the city, but he couldn't tell that for sure; for all he knew, the van was just driving around in circles the whole time to give them the impression that it was further away than it really was.

He didn't really mind; he enjoyed Lonnie's and Allison's company. Since Allison had refused to tell him about the club, Lonnie thought it would be fun to be tight-lipped about it as well. She teased him with nuances and innuendos, but masterfully kept from revealing anything about it.

At lunch time, she served sandwiches from a refrigerator below the bar. They were fresh, with quality meats and cheeses. Considering what he was paying for this outing, he would have been disappointed otherwise.

The trip lasted until about three in the afternoon. Eventually they felt the van slowing, and it finally came to a stop. A moment later, Carl opened the door and slid the ramp down. Lonnie gave Greg and Allison one last hug, then they descended the ramp into what appeared to be a short tunnel. The cold stone beneath his bare feet didn't feel particularly pleasant, but Carl motioned toward a door off to the side, with a carpeted step in front and another uniformed man standing beside it. Carl took their carryons, assuring them that he would have their luggage delivered to their suite. The door man opened it for them, and Greg and Allison stepped inside.

They found themselves in a large, elegant lounge with stylish furnishings. There were no windows, which again didn't surprise him. There were several men there, but only one other woman. All wore pajamas, of course.

The woman and one of the men approached Greg and Allison.

"Hi," the man greeted cheerfully. "I'm Frank, and this is my wife Carol."

"Greg and Allison," Greg replied warmly. They all shook each others' hands.

"My wife arranged this for my birthday," Frank said. "Hell of a birthday present, wouldn't you agree?"

"Absolutely," said Greg.

"Anyway, it's nice to see another fellow here whose wife isn't the jealous type."

"I just figure if I let him have his fun like this once in a while, he's not likely to start up an affair," Carol said. "Isn't that right, Allison?"

"Our situation is a little different," Allison replied. "It doesn't bother me if he wants to have an affair, just like it doesn't bother him that I married him for his money."

Frank and Carol chuckled at that, obviously not sure whether it was a joke or not.

"It's true," Allison shrugged. "But just because I married him for his money doesn't mean we can't have fun together," she grinned.

"That does make a strange kind of sense," said Carol. "It explains why you're here at the Pajama Club. Anyway, we're just waiting for the last couple of guests to arrive. They should be here any time."

It didn't take long. Five minutes later, another man entered, looking a little disheveled. More than likely he had spent time in the back of a van with a young lady like Lonnie, but in his case he had taken her up on her offer.

A few minutes after that, another man arrived. Frank mentioned that that should be the last of the guests, so the festivities should start at any time.

Just then, the door at the far end of the room opened, and a man stepped through. He appeared to be in his mid fifties, with gray hair and slightly overweight frame. Wearing an old-fashioned nightgown that hung around his ankles, a tassled nightcap and a pair of pink, fluffy, bunny slippers, he looked so ridiculous that Greg no longer felt the least bit self-conscious about his own attire. That was probably the point, he realized.

"Welcome to the Pajama Club," he announced with a jovial smile. "I am the director of this establishment, Chuck Farnham, but the girls all call me Grandpa. You may call me Mr. Farnham, Chuck, Grandpa, or just 'Hey you.'"

There were a few chuckles among the crowd, and Greg felt at ease with this man. Considering how much he had paid to get in, he found the atmosphere to be surprisingly casual. But then, that made sense, considering that this was a pajama-themed establishment.

"Now let me explain how things are going to work," the man continued. "We want you to feel at home here in the Pajama Club. When you're here, you're with family."

Greg heard some more chuckles from the crowd, but he failed to get the joke.

"To that end," Chuck continued, "each man will choose one of our girls to be his daughter for the duration of his stay. These are good, obedient girls who will do anything for their daddies. Anything, " he repeated for emphasis, and Greg immediately realized what he meant. Now he understood everything. The secrecy, the expense, and Allison's reluctance to tell him what he was getting into. This wasn't just pajama-themed, but incest themed. Of course it was all a fantasy, but if he had known about it before, he might have refused to come. Now that he was here, though, he decided to see it through. He might as well have fun with it.

"If she's good, reward her with hugs and kisses," continued Chuck. "If she's bad, give her a good spanking. Or spank her anyway, if that's your thing. She's yours for the night, so have fun with her any way you wish. Then when it's time to put your little girl to bed, each girl has her own suite where you can tuck her in and give her a good cuddle. Our girls love to sleep with their daddies, so her bed is yours for the night.

"I see that we have a few mommies here as well. Unfortunately, we have no little boys for you, but we don't want you to feel left out. It's fine if you just want to watch, but if you're so inclined, our girls like to cuddle with their mommies just as much as with their daddies, if you know what I mean."

Greg glanced at Allison, but she kept her expression neutral. Considering what had happened on their honeymoon, he wondered if she would want to take an active part in the activities.

"But you didn't come here to hear me babble on and on. Let's get down to business. Before I present the girls, we'll draw numbers to determine the order in which you get to pick your daughters."

He took off his cap, then reached into a pocket in his robe and pulled out a series of numbered tiles. He dropped these into his cap and went around to each of the men, having them draw out a tile. When Greg reached into the cap, he drew out the number 3.

After everyone had drawn their tiles, Chuck walked back over to the door from which he had entered. "And now, it's time to meet the daughters!" he announced, and opened the door.

One by one, a dozen young girls stepped throgh and lined up against the wall. Upon seeing them, Greg nearly gasped. If Lonnie hadn't already told him that the girls at the Pajama Club all looked young for their age, he would have sworn that they were far too young to be in this business. Some of them looked no older than fourteen. They were all short, with slender frames and each with a very appealing little-girl look to her. Some even wore braces. Their hair color ranged from a very light blond to jet black, including several brunettes and redheads. There were two asian girls, one black, and the rest caucasian. They wore assorted clothing, some in lacy lingerie, some in nearly transparent nightgowns, and some in tank tops and panties.

Two girls in particular caught his eye. One was a pretty brunette with wide, green eyes and a bright smile. She had her hair tied back in a ponytail and wore nothing but a lacy black bra and panties. The other had long, blond hair and blue eyes in a cherubic face that reminded him of an older version of Brit. She had the most adorable smile of all the girls in the group, and wore a pink tank top that didn't quite cover her cute little navel, and a pair of bright pink panties. The bulges of her nipples and the crease between her legs were readily apparent through her clothes.

The girls all lined up against the wall, each holding up a rectangle of cardboard with their names written on it. Clearly each girl had written her own name, and some had decorated their name tags with stars, hearts, or other designs. The brunette that Greg had noticed was named Pauline, and the blonde was Sherry.

Allison leaned in and whispered in Greg's ear, "Sherry looks like Brit." Apparently she had noticed the resemblance too.

"Now take a good look, folks," said Chuck. "Aren't they beautiful? Let's go ahead and begin. Who has number one?"

Frank raised his tile in the air. Chuck came over and took it from his hand. "Who would you like to be your daughter tonight?"

"Pauline," he said, to Greg's disappointment. He had considered choosing Sherry, but after Allison had noticed the resemblance, he didn't want to choose her and maybe give Allison the wrong impression. Just because he liked the looks of a girl who resembled his daughter didn't mean that he thought of his own daughter in that way at all. Now that his second choice had been taken, he had to either choose Sherry or look for a third option. Of course, there was a chance that the second man would choose Sherry, in which case the decision would be made for him.

Pauline strode up to her new daddy with a shy look on her face, but as soon as she reached him, she wrapped her arms around his neck, drew him down toward her, and planted a kiss right on his lips. It lasted a few seconds, then she pulled back and with a smile on her face, took his hand.

The man with number two didn't hesitate, but immediately waved his tile in the air with a big grin on his face. He pointed to one of the asian girls. "Miko," he said. The girl came over and gave him a kiss as well.

Now it was Greg's turn. When Chuck asked who had number three, Greg held out the tile, then glanced over at Allison.

"Sherry?" she asked.

That was enough to make up his mind. As long as Allison was okay with it, he might as well go with his first choice. "Sherry," he confirmed. The girl skipped over to him, just a little more enthusiastically than the previous two girls had greeted their daddies. It was probably just her personality, though he liked to think that maybe she had been hoping to be picked by Greg.

When she reached out her arms for him, he glanced at his wife, who smiled and nodded her approval. Greg leaned down and let Sherry kiss him on the lips. It was a very pleasant sensation, both innocent and naughty at the same time. She wore some kind of lip gloss that tasted a bit like strawberries. When he drew back, he saw a look of adoration in her eyes as she took his hand in hers. It was all part of the act, of course, but that didn't mean he couldn't enjoy the attention.

The other men chose their daughters one by one until each had a girl on his arm. The remaining girls headed back through the door, leaving Chuck with the daddies and mommies and daughters.

"All right then," Chuck smiled. "Feel free to mingle and get to know your daughters while we get the rest of the evening's festivities set up." He slipped out the door.

The men and women immediately began talking with their daughters. Being completely new to this, Greg didn't know where to even begin, but Allison took over and asked Sherry about herself. Sherry first asked if they wanted her to step out of character or maintain the illusion, and Allison replied that she was interested in knowing the truth. So Sherry told them that she was eighteen and just starting her freshman year in college. Her older sister was an escort with one of the agencies affiliated with the Pajama Club, and had put in a good word for Sherry, who thought she would do well here because she had always looked younger than she really was. Greg was curious as to why a girl would choose this line of work, and Sherry simply replied that she enjoyed sex. In that regard she was as liberal as Allison. As far as Sherry was concerned, she was just having fun every weekend. The fact that they were paying her for it was just a bonus. As an aside, she admitted that she had a thing for older men.

Fifteen minutes later, Chuck entered the room again.

"All right everyone," he said, "it looks like we're all ready. Let me explain what will go on for the rest of the day. We'll be moving into the auditorium momentarily, where you'll be served cocktails. We have a fun show for you tonight which I just know you'll love. Afterward you will be served dinner, and then your daughters will take you up to their rooms where you may enjoy yourselves with them for the rest of the night. Are there any questions?"

There were a few murmurs in the crowd, but nobody spoke up.

"Good," Chuck smiled. "So let's go on in." He opened the door, and the daughters all took their daddies' hands and led them through it, into a short hall ending in a set of large double doors, which Chuck opened. Inside was a large room like a nightclub, with a curtained stage at one end. The room was filled with semicircular booths with soft seats and tables. The daughters were each apparently assigned a particular booth, to which they led their daddies. Sherry, Greg, and Allison took one slightly to the right of the center.

As he sat down, he realized that the high backed seats hid all of the other guests from view, other than just their heads. He wondered if that was intentional, so that nobody could see what was going on down below. That implied that something would go on down below.

After everyone was seated, half a dozen more girls appeared from a different door from the one the guests had entered from. They took orders for drinks, then returned to serve the cocktails. After they finished serving everyone, they disappeared through the door again.

The curtain on the stage opened, revealing a scene made up to look like a teenage girl's bedroom. Three girls sat next to each other on the bed. They were all as cute as the "daughters," and looked to be about the same age. Like all the other girls in the room, they had on skimpy little pajamas.

"So do you guys want to play Truth or Dare?" one of them asked the others.

"As long as you go first, Jenny," one of her friends replied with a grin.

"Okay," the first one replied.

"Truth or dare?" asked the second speaker.

"Truth," said Jenny.

"How many boys have you kissed?"

"On the lips or elsewhere?" Jenny laughed.

"Any part of the body that touched your lips."

"Okay then, twelve."

"Twelve?" the third girl asked, astonished.

"Yep."

"Okay, how many have you kissed on the lips?"

"Three," Jenny replied. Several of the "daddies" laughed at the obvious innuendo there. "Okay, my turn," Jenny continued. "Molly, truth or dare?" she asked the third girl.

"Dare," said Molly.

"I dare you to ... French kiss Kelly."

"Hey!" Kelly complained. "I'm not the one you dared."

"She's got a point," Molly said triumphantly.

But Jenny wasn't about to let her get out of it that easily. "Okay, I dare you to French kiss me instead."

"Ew!" Kelly exclaimed, but with a grin on her face.

With an embarrassed expression, Molly scooted over to Jenny. The two girls leaned in and opened their mouths, then pressed their lips together. Even from a distance Greg could see their tongues teasing each other. It both shocked and delighted him. Now that he was trying to be more open about his sexuality, he couldn't deny that the sight of two girls kissing really turned him on.

It only lasted a few seconds, then the girls separated, giggling girlishly.