The Fort Lauderdale Trap isn’t some new kid on the block—it’s been luring naughty sailors for years. What started as a strip-mall hideaway has slowly swallowed the whole plaza like a hungry swinger Pac-Man. Parking can be a tease, but they’ve solved it with shuttles—think of it as foreplay before the main event.
Inside, this place is one of the crown jewels of the U.S. lifestyle scene, and it pulls tourists in like moths to a neon G-string—especially the night before a Bliss cruise when the energy is hotter than the ship’s engine room. The Trap is spotless, well-kept, and BYOB, with a sexy bar staff ready to take your bottle, pour it, and dress it up with mixers so you can focus on undressing yourself later.
And then there’s the midnight buffet. Not just finger food—unless you count the fingers that might be wandering under the table. We’re talking a full spread, carving station included. It’s Vegas meets orgy. Yes, the entry fee is on the higher side, but honestly, you’re paying for one of the cleanest, best-run, and most decadent playgrounds in the country. Worth every dollar and every dropped pair of panties.
First impressions? We’ve lost count of how many times we’ve slipped into the Fort Lauderdale Trapeze, but let’s just say it never disappoints. This is a late-night playground—people here dance like they’re auditioning for Dirty Dancing: The Lifestyle Edition, and only after the sweat has built up do they migrate toward the playrooms. Once the midnight buffet opens, it’s a full bounce-back routine: grab a bite, grab a body, repeat.
The club has lockers and a changing area, but fair warning—it’s wide open. If you’re shy, you might feel exposed… which, let’s be honest, is kind of the point. Friday nights are a single-guy buffet (pun intended), which just so happens to be Judy’s favorite menu. When we go, we prefer to roll in with other couples we know are ready to play—it turns into a night of tag-team action where the guest list in your bed keeps expanding.
Everyone’s polite, the rules are firm (in all the right ways), and the vibe is smooth. We’ve never had an issue—unless you count running out of stamina before running out of partners.
Trapeze is laid out on one level—simple, but seductive. You walk in, pay your dues, and the doors swing open to reveal the bar and dance floor. The music is always cranked up, but nobody seems to mind—dancing bodies don’t really need conversation, just rhythm and friction.
The bar works like a sexy coat check for your liquor: hand over your bottle, they tag it with a number, and voilà—your personal stash is waiting whenever you need a refill.
Slip through the door to the “back area” (better known as the undressing zone), and you’ll find lockers, towels galore, and beds that get changed so often it feels like room service in Vegas. Towels aren’t just for wrapping around your waist—they’re also your invitation to hop on the action.
Play spaces come in flavors: semi-private with gauzy curtains (close them if you’re going for the “no interruptions” vibe) or wide-open group areas where exhibitionists shine. Even here, the golden rule applies: ask before you touch. Consent is king, even when everyone’s naked and dripping with anticipation.
Trapeze covers all the bases—dancing, drinking, dressing down, and diving into decadence.
The playrooms at Trapeze are endless—you stop counting after a while because you’re too busy trying to find an open bed. On busy nights, snagging a mattress can feel like musical chairs with moans as the soundtrack.
There are cozier setups with enough space for two or three adventurous couples, and then there are the big group beds where “open activity” means exactly that—your audience might just turn into your participants. I don’t recall seeing any swings, but with all the action, it wouldn’t surprise me if one popped up mid-thrust.
Most people here come to play, not just spectate. That said, on single-guy nights, the crowd can get heavy on the “look but don’t touch” vibe—though the lucky few in demand guys get plenty of invitations to join in. It’s like being picked first for the team in gym class.
More club review below....
There is defiantly a dress code here and it's "strictly enforced". Instead of repeating everything I We are just going to add the link here: Dress Code
"Members must be undressed to play in the back room at Trapeze, we have provided members with complimentary lockers."
Here is the link to much about the inside: Club Tour
The bar here is very organize they take your bottle and put an number you just have to remember the number, but I think it's the same number on your locker key.
No pool here, but there were a few hot tubs—though management clearly wasn’t a fan. When they remodeled, rumor had it those bubbling sin-pots were on the chopping block, so they may already be history. Back when they were around, they stayed so packed it felt more like a naughty game of “how many swingers can you fit in a Jacuzzi?” than an actual soak. Let’s just say we never managed to squeeze in—unless you count squeezing against everyone else who already had dibs.
Single men are welcome at Trapeze—but with some caveats. The club is open five nights a week, and you can strut your stuff any night except Saturday, which is couples-only.
Dress code is strictly enforced: this isn’t a flip-flop and cargo shorts joint. Slacks, a sharp shirt, and ideally a sport coat—because nothing kills the mood faster than looking like you just stumbled in from a Florida tiki bar.
And here’s the kicker: single guys are capped. So if you roll in late, you might find yourself left outside, fantasizing while the party rages on inside. Moral of the story? Dress hot, show up early, and hope the couples think you’re worth keeping around for dessert.
The club is here to make money, this is a for profit business and the charge accordingly. Cost changes so we are just sending you to the website for cost: Pricing
Now, about the vibe—it shifts depending on the night. For us, it’s usually a blast. Fridays have pretty much turned into unofficial Hotwife Night… or maybe Gangbang Night… hard to tell once the heels start flying and the moans start echoing. Either way, the energy is electric.
Holiday weekends, though? Different story. The place gets so packed it feels like a swinger Black Friday sale—too many bodies crammed into one space, and not always in the fun way. Sometimes less really is more… unless it’s Friday night, in which case “more” is the whole point.
So… would we go back? Well, if you’ve been paying attention, we already have—more than a few times. But we don’t roll in blind. We come loaded, bringing couples we know are ready to play hard and often. That way the night stays as busy as we like it.
Fridays are a special treat—we’ll sometimes go just for our ladies. Sure, we have fun too, but those nights are their buffet. How many guys can they handle? Let’s just say the only limit is stamina… and maybe the number of clean towels.
So yes, we’d go back. In fact, odds are, we already have plans.