A Saturday Night in Vegas.

The return ride to The Strip was uneventful, and the magazine editor-in-chief has reimbursed you for the roundtrip taxi ride. The next photo session, though, with Stephanie, isn't until the following day, so that leaves your Saturday Night open. You take the time in the afternoon to rest, then wash up, and prepare for a night out in the city. That is when you hear your smart phone vibrate. When you take a look at who is calling, you find that it's from one of the assistant editors of the magazine. As it turns out, you won't have to spend the night alone, even though you're likely going to be discussing business-related matters with the said assistant editor.

That is what you find yourself doing that night, starting with dinner at one of the fancier steakhouses in one of the other casinos, then catching the world-famous "Jubilee" headliner show. If you weren't busy enjoying the prime steak, or watching a large group of women dance in their outfits and heavily-feathered headdresses, you were talking about what settings you needed for the photo shoot with Stephanie the following day. After the headliner show, you soon find out that the assistant editor had a plan for you the whole time, when he takes you to a high-end strip club called "The Fantasy Harem".

Located somewhere between The Strip, and the Downtown area, "The Fantasy Harem" started off as a small club, then grew as it grew in popularity. Now it has a mini casino, a sports bar, and a bookstore, to go with the main lounge. It is in that main lounge, that the assistant editor leads you to, and you settle in, enjoying the sights of dancing women, as much as you can. That is when your companion point you to a couple of women now taking the main stage.

"Their stage nicknames are 'Sugar & Spice'." The assistant editor tells you. "The 'Sugar' girl is Aria, and the 'Spice' girl is Deborah, or Debbie."

Looking at the two ladies, you can see why so many of the other patrons are lining and squeezing around the stage area. Both women appear to be around your height, if they're not wearing the high heels that they're wearing now. They're also curvy women who are definitely fit and toned, as given by their shapely, muscled legs. What seems to make them stand out the most, aside from their wonderful faces, are their very big breasts for their body shapes. Aria, the 'Sugar' half, is a natural blondie, with blue eyes; a reflection of her mother's Dutch heritage, mixed in with her father's Swedish bloodline. Deborah is the 'Spice' half, with her Gothic-styled dark hair, and hazel eyes. You watch the two women dance on the twin poles on the main stage, swinging around, and hanging upside down. Then they strip each other to full nudity, and continue their dance while they rub each other's bodies. The tossing of money onto the stage gets even wilder, when they lay on their sides, facing the audience, and let their trimmed pussies touch one another, before they rub them together for a minute.

"That is why they fetch premium rates." The assistant editor tells you, as the dance ends, and they blow kisses, while collecting the piles of money on stage. "Not every one of them can afford their rates, so they try to make the most out of their stage dances."

"Not to mention they look so hot in lingerie." You tell him. "I wonder, though, if they are lesbian, or if they're bisexual."

"Both of them are bisexual." He tells you. "They just seem to spend alot more time with each other, or other women, than they do with men."

"Maybe they want a rich man." You tell the assistant editor. "They probably won't want a man like me."

"It's actually different." The man tells you. "They want men who are smart, and willing to do their best to take good care of them. They just haven't found the right men, yet."

"And so that leads to why I'm here, being introduced to them." You ask the man.

"You've seen how hot they are in lingerie." The assistant editor tells you. "I'm working to let you have the luxury to take photos of them in it, if you're willing."

"Won't they be asking for money in the hundreds?" You ask him.

"Well, their rates suggest that, Alex," the assistant editor shows you a series of text messages, then a bank receipt, "but the editor-in-chief is giving you the chance. You're going to spend the rest of the night with them."