“I aim to do whatever it takes to keep my best customers coming back,” Pasha said earnestly as she combed conditioner from her new hair care line through Nairobia’s hair, then blasted it with a cold-water rinse for several seconds.
Nairobia cooed. “And I do believe I am coming in more ways than one, my darling…mmmm…yes…I already feel my juices pooling between my thighs.”
Pasha chortled as she wrapped a towel around her head. Raised her up from the sink. Then reached for her boar-bristle paddle brush and blew-dry Nairobia’s luxurious mane.
“So how’s the new club? Is it everything you dreamed of? I’ve heard it’s fabulous.”
Nairobia’s lashes fluttered. “It’s everything, my darling. And more. Perhaps you’d like to unleash your desires and step into the world of decadence, no?”
Pasha bristled at the thought. Sure she had a freaky side. Who didn’t? But she’d rather unleash her alter ego behind closed doors, in the comfort of her own home. Still, there was no denying. She was a bit curious, but not enough to feed it.
She smiled. “Oh, no, girl. I’ll have to kindly decline. Thanks for the invitation, though. But I have a cousin back home who mentioned in confidence that she bought a membership. However, she hasn’t used it yet. Silver level, I believe.”
Mmm. She’d only have access to the first two floors. That’s what the five-thousand-dollar membership card afforded her. She’d need to dig a little deeper in her purse if she wanted more exclusive privileges. For another five grand she could upgrade. Gold level would allow her access to the first three levels. And for those able to foot the twenty-thousand-dollar bill for a Platinum level membership, they’d have full access to every level of the club, along with special invitations to special events.
Nairobia smiled. “I do hope your darling cousin comes to indulge herself soon.”
“Oh, trust. She already has. Out of her two sisters, she’s the more daring. The more sexually liberated.”
Nairobia pursed her lips. “So she isn’t afraid to unleash her freak.”
Pasha chortled. “I’m never one to gossip, but…that’s putting it mildly.”
“Oooh,” Nairobia cooed as Pasha curled her hair. “I think I like her already. Tell her to be sure to introduce herself to me the next time she steps across the threshold.”
“I most certainly will.”
Thirty minutes later, Pasha unsnapped the cape from around Nairobia’s neck, then handed her the handheld mirror. Nairobia shook her hair, and regarded herself, moving her head from side to side, her glossy hair swinging to and fro. “It’s fabulous as always,” she said, handing Pasha back the mirror. She stood, running her fingers at the nape of her neck and through her hair. It was silky as ever.
Pasha took her in, admiringly. Oooh, she’s a real flossy bitch. Pasha’s Nappy No More Glossing conditioner had Nairobia’s hair shining bright like a diamond. Yassss, bitch, yass! “Girl, I know women who would kill to have your mane…and that body of yours.”
Nairobia glanced at her over her shoulder and smacked her ass. “Nothing artificial, nothing added, my darling. It’s all natural.”
Pasha couldn’t help herself from laughing. As classy and upscale as Nairobia was, she was surprisingly just as down-to-earth. “When I grow up,” Pasha said, “I want to be just like you.”
Nairobia shook her head. “No, Pasha, my love. Be better than me.” She grinned. “Always better. If you dare.”
TWENTY-TWO
Everyone desired pleasure.
And Nairobia was an expert at using her femininity to get what she wanted. Call it manipulation. Call it being cunning. Call it whatever you liked. Nairobia called it the art of seduction. She knew all too well how to seduce. How to lure the object of her interest in, then slowly have him/her eating out the palm of her paraffin-smooth hand. And she planned on sharing that knowledge with the world in her next Tell-All.
She believed women should know how to smile more, play more, flirt more, and tease more. Not be so uptight. Not be so combative. Not be so dependent on the attention of a man. She found most women carried lots of unnecessary baggage. And were too needy and disturbingly clingy. It made them ugly. Made them appear broken and weak.
Nairobia despised broken, weak women. And she pitied women who didn’t know how to embrace their sexuality, their sensuality, and their femininity.
As far as she believed, no quality man wanted a woman bearing those flaws, or scars of insecurity. He needed a whole woman—a sensual woman, a sexual woman, one who knew how to embrace her strength and her femininity, while still allowing him to be a man.