Chapter 13: Being in Hell with Nixie

“I'm married, happily, for many years.” Marina gives a nervous confession to scantily clad Nixie. “My girlfriends are very bad women. I love them, don't get me wrong, but this lesbo thing is way out of hand.”

“You never got it on with them?” Nixie shudders to think.

“Me? No! I think they both need an intervention, some type of therapy.” Marina is buzzed, confiding, “Between you and me, Nixie, I think they are sex addicts.”

“Really?” Nixie curls her lips, listening to the rant of a sexually deprived woman. “And that's bad, being addicted to sex?”

“Yes! Sex has its place, but not here in a club.”

“Where and how is sex okay?” Nixie leans back, enjoying Marina's nervousness. The attraction between them is palpable.

The closet case rambles on, “At home, in private, between a man and a woman.”

“Does that mean you won't fuck me?” For a moment, Nixie pretends to be serious. She knows damn well Marina will have her thighs spread wide before the evening is done. “You won't let me have you because I'm female?”

“I won't let you have me because I'm married. Are we on the same page? Speaking the same language?”

“Perfectly. What should we do then? I'm your birthday gift but it seems you are sending me back. Is that the case?”

“Please don't take offense. I truly don't want to be rude.”

“Marina, there's nothing wrong with talking with me. We can enjoy each other’s company with our clothes on.”

“We can? I mean, yes, we can. I like talking with you, Nixie.”

Nixie pours the last drops of the champagne bottle in Marina's glass saying, “I'm glad. How did you like watching me on stage?”

Marina's nervous twitch takes hold. “That was, you know, you're a very good dancer. You've obviously taken ballet.”

“No, not a day of ballet training. I've taken instruction on the pole and the chair, but that's it. Must be the Latin genes. My hips move and I can't stop them once they start.”

One gulp and the champagne is history. Marina searches for more topics, but can only come out with, “Do you eat meat? With your perfect figure I thought maybe you're a vegetarian.”

“Oh, I eat plenty of meat. Never spent a day in my life as a veg head and don't plan on it either.” Nixie moves closer to Marina, letting her plump, red lips softly wisp on her earlobe. “Will you do me a favor, Marina?” Nixie turns Marina's seat to face hers, and gazes into her avoidance. “I want you to close your eyes.”

“Here? Now? No, no, not comfortable with that. A little dizzy from all the drink.” 

“Marina, shhh, relax. Close your eyes. I want to tell you a story.”

“A story? About what?” Marina realizes her tight dress is revealing her panties. She grabs the hem to regain her decency but Nixie stops her. 

“A story about a woman who gets locked inside a nightclub, only it's really hell because there's one person stuck inside there with her, and it's a chick, a super-hot chick, who’s horny.”

“Interesting. Is this an autobiographical tale?”

“It could be.” Nixie casually drops her hands on Marina's knees, before they are politely removed. “So, this super-hot chick, all she wants to do is dance naked from the stage, just for her, and only her.”

Surprisingly, Marina has interest. “So why is that hell?”

“Because she knows she'll eventually give in, and let the dancer have her. She's afraid of what she might feel.”

“Nonsense. She's afraid because it's not normal to want to do that.”

“Do what? Dance?”

“To do naked things in front of strangers,” Marina clarifies.

“If you want to hear the story you need to close your eyes, like I asked.” Nixie has her, and Marina closes her eyes. “Imagine being alone in here with me, the crowd around us gone. The room is dark with a soft spotlight on the stage, where I am dancing, only wearing panties and heels. Want me to continue?” 

“Sure,” is Marina's simple reply.

“I'm down on my knees, reaching out for you with a simple request. Come up on the stage for one dance, just one, but you can't fight me. You must let yourself dance hip to hip and let me hold your ass in my hands, and press my breasts on yours. You can't push me away for kissing your neck, your chest, your face. For one dance you have to agree to let me touch you anywhere I want and all you have to do is go with it. Do you see yourself ascending the stairs? Can you feel my hands on your shoulders, moving down your arms, holding your hands?” 

Nixie lays her hands on the married woman's knees once again and this time they are not removed.