Page 119 of Born to Make You Smile

Gavin agreed to come with me and check out Studio 69. Our plan was to have a drink, dance, then go to a private room we had reserved.

We dressed for the occasion. He was in his ’70s disco attire, and I was in a shimmery gold halter jumpsuit. I wore plastic platform heels as well as gold hoops. I put on my orange wig, and my boobs were nearly spilling out of my shirt. I wasn’t wearing a bra, and my nipples were piercing through the thin polyester fabric.

After signing in, we walked through the main area. When we passed the bar, Bill Salinger stood next to an older woman with long red hair, both of them in leather.

“Can I have a red wine, Daddy?” I heard the woman ask Bill. Her voice came out a bit nasal and whiney.

“No, kitten,” Bill said sternly. “You’ve had enough.”

Gavin and Bill looked at one another with a nod, then we continued on our way to the elevator.

“Don’t worry. Remember, whatever happens here, stays here,” I said to ease any trepidation about seeing Bill Salinger here.

“Yes. I’m aware. But in the end, I suppose being known as a kinky dentist isn’t the worst thing in the world.”

I smiled, putting my hands over his exposed chest, toying with the hair there. “I’m so happy you’re here with me.”

“Me too.”

When we stepped into Studio 69, I took note of the expression of awe and intrigue on Gavin’s face.

“This is…wow. I had no idea this kind of place existed,” he said, bouncing to the beat of “Bad Girls.”

We got a drink, a Pink Lady for me and a Tom Collins for him. We danced, and at one point, I snuck away to the DJ booth to make a request. About ten minutes later, Bee Gees' “More Than a Woman” began to play.

“Isn’t this fitting,” he said with surprise. “Your doing?”

I smirked. “Of course.”

“Well, Peach.” He held out his hand. “Would you care to dance?”

“Certainly, Sir. I’d love to.”

“Hopefully, these bloody shoes don’t murder my feet by the end of the evening,” he complained, gesturing to his black platform dress shoes. “I do like the bit of extra height, though.”

He led me to the dance floor, and we moved to the music under the disco ball.

“This is fantastic.” He glanced around the room, then over at two topless women dancing next to us. “Definitely interesting, that’s for sure.”

I leaned in. “They look great, don’t they?”

“Well, yes. But I’d much rather see yours. In private.” He dipped me, moving his mouth to my ear. “I don’t like to share what’s mine.”

I could feel him steel hard against me. He twirled me, and as we separated, I couldn’t help but glance down—the outline of his very stiff erection clearly visible through his tight white pants. Holy shit. I was so turned on the rest of the lounge began to fade, becoming blurred.

“I need you, Sir,” I said after the song ended.

“What do you need?”

“You.” I blinked at him. “Your body.”

“Come to the back room with me, Peach.”

“Back room? Are you sure?” I forced a concerned look. “I don’t want to get caught…We shouldn’t. It’s so wrong.”

“Don’t worry.” He ran a finger over my cheek. “You can be a naughty little Peach. For me.”

I bit my lip with a smirk.

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