Magic Wanda

We congratulated him on his twenty five point total and headed to ‘Jellies’ nightclub. But it was a Sunday, and the doorman said they were closing in half an hour and wouldn’t let us in.

“Shit,” said Dave. “I don’t feel like going home yet.”

“Yeah, me neither,” said Ringo.

“Well, I think the best we’re going to manage at this hour is a kebab or a curry. Any preference?” I asked

“I fancy a good Indian myself,” said Ringo.

“Fair do’s. Currie’s on me,” said Dave smiling.

We headed back towards our B&B along the seafront, knowing there was an Indian restaurant just round the corner. We were walking against the strong winds and the waves were crashing in just over the road to our right. Fortunately, the rain had stopped and looking up, we could see the bright flashing lights of the Pleasure Beach on the horizon.

We didn’t speak much. It was a disappointing finish to a good weekend. I’d got my head down, avoiding the sand and grit that was occasionally being whipped into our squinting faces, when a piece of paper was blown up into my face and held there as if willing me to read it.

I reluctantly pulled my hand out of my trouser pocket and grabbed the offending paper. As I pulled it away from my eyes and it came into focus, I could see it was some sort of advertising flyer. Not just any flyer though, this one had naked women decorating it.

“Hey lads,” I said. “Stop and look at this.”

As they gathered round, our backs turned against the wind, I read the content out loud. “Peppermint Elephant, gentleman’s club. Grand Opening June 27th. Free entry for up to four guests with this flyer throughout June and July. Open 8pm-3am Tuesday to Friday, 3pm-3am Saturday and Sunday. Come and see Blackpool’s finest ladies in all their naked glory.”

“Whey hey!” said Dave. “Does it say where it is?”

“It’s got a map on the back,” I said flipping it over. “Looks like it’s just past the Pleasure Beach.”

“It’s miles,” moaned Ringo. “And my stomach’s crying out to be fed.”

“Forget your stomach fat boy,” said Dave. “It’s only one mile, which is three or four quid tops, in a cab. Oi Oi Taxi!” he yelled across the street, never pausing for breath. “Plus it’s bloody free entry. Here we are.” The taxi pulled up and we were on our way.

Ringo carried on moaning about his hunger and how they were all going to be ugly slappers with too much make-up on. We were still arguing and telling him to shut up as we entered the club. We all stopped talking at the same time as two scantily clad, stunning girls came into view. They were dancing and gyrating to loud music, on a stage less than twenty feet from where we were stood.

“Bloody hell,” drooled Ringo.

“Bloody hell indeed,” I added.

“Would you gentlemen like a stage or table seat?” asked a waitress in a bunny girl outfit. We all looked round in surprise, not having noticed her approach us.

“Stage,” I said quickly.

She led us over to three great seats at the edge of the stage and took our drinks order. The stage was set out in the shape of a T and we were sat facing the bottom of the T, with a shiny silver pole no more than a few feet from our faces.

“Oh baby,” exclaimed Dave. “This place is ace. Either of you been to one of these before?”

“Nah,” I said. “What about you?”

“No. Wish I had though. Not sure how you go on,” replied Dave.

“My uncle went to one of these somewhere,” offered Ringo. “I think it was a few years back. He paid for a lap-dance and I think he said it cost him a tenner.”

“What exactly happens?” asked Dave.

“Well, she took him to a private room and basically sat on his lap and jiggled about and got undressed. You’re not allowed to touch though. He said it was a bit frustrating. In fact, he said one of his mates came in his pants!”

“Bollox,” said Dave.

“No, I swear. They call him Milky Pants now. He never lived it down.”

“Don’t think there’s much chance of that happening with us,” I suggested. “Not after the amount of alcohol we’ve consumed tonight. Probably a bloody godsend.”

“Yeah,” said Dave. “Where’s that waitress gone anyway.”

“There she is,” said Ringo looking round. “Looks like we’re up next.”

Two minutes later and she was with us. As we’d sat down, the two girls on stage had tottered back off and we were looking in anticipation at the twitchy curtains on the other side of the stage.

“Sorry about the wait boys. Three gin and tonics, there you are.”

“How much love?” asked Dave.

“Twelve pounds please darling,” she said smiling while bending over so that we got a nice view of her cleavage.

Dave took out three five pound notes and coolly slipped them down her front. The cheeky bastard even gave them a little tap, right on the middle of her breasts.

“Keep the change,” he grinned.

“Thanks baby,” she said winking at him. “Anything else for you boys?”

“Well,” said Dave beckoning her in. “We’ve never been anywhere like this before. How do you, you know, go on about things. How much does it cost?”

“I can organise the private lap-dances for you or if you want to show a lady your appreciation on stage, she’ll have a little pot that you can put pound coins in. If you’re feeling particularly enamoured by a performance, a five pound note may get you something a little more.” She finished the sentence with a wink.

“So how do we select the girl for a lap-dance?” I asked intrigued. “Do you have like a profile book with them all in or something?”

“No honey. They’ll all get their turn on stage and you pick the one you like. You’ll also see ladies wandering round the club asking if you’d like a dance. They can do a strip at the table for you which is ten pounds, and lasts the length of a song, or for twenty pounds you get taken to somewhere a little more private for a lap dance. Have you seen anyone you like so far?”

“Not really,” I replied. “I suppose we’ve missed quite a few of the girls already haven’t we?”

She laughed. “I guess so honey. Did you have something specific in mind?”

“Er, not really. What do you mean?” I stammered, a little embarrassed.

“Well, do you like girls with big breasts, nice eyes, tight little bums, long legs, older ladies? We’ve got a nice variety in here.”

“We like all of the above!” said Dave grinning. Ringo wasn’t really listening, his eyes had wandered from the waitress to the girls who’d just come on to the stage.

“Listen love,” continued Dave. “Why don’t you give us an hour and come back. If we’ve seen someone we like, we’ll let you know then.”

“Sure thing honey,” she said before turning and wiggling off back towards the bar.

“You gonna go for it?” I asked Dave.

“I reckon so,” he replied smiling. “Sounds like too good an opportunity to miss. What about you Ringo?”

There was a pause as we waited for him to reply. He obviously hadn’t heard. He was transfixed by the tall redhead who had just slipped out of her long shimmering dress and was now half way up the pole just in front of us.

“Hey, deaf boy!” shouted Dave. “You still with us? Forgot about your stomach at last?”

“Er, yeah man. Only thing I’m hungry for right now, is that foxy chick in front of us. Now shut-up yabbing for a minute and enjoy the show.”

We laughed at him and did as requested. The redhead proceeded to skilfully slide down the pole, spinning round, using just her legs to grip it. Her long shapely legs spread apart as she reached the stage again and did the splits. She soon sprang back up and began shaking her head and swishing her long hair from side to side in time with the music. We were mesmerised. She looked directly at us as she parted from the pole with a twirl and seductively swaggered over to the edge of the stage in front of us. She leaned forward with her hands covering her breasts and then as her body was at a right angle to her legs, her face just above us, she released her hands and jiggled her upper torso. Her firm perky breasts seemed to defy gravity as they jutted out, shaking for us, her nipples hard and erect.

“Fuckin’ hell,” whispered Dave under his breath. I just nodded, not daring to take my eyes off her. Ringo stood and reached into his pocket, his eyes now holding the gaze of the performing redhead. He pulled out a five pound note and the redhead smiled at him.

She rubbed her breasts and then traced her hands down over her belly and slowly slipped her fingers down into her bright red thong. She slid her fingers back out and elegantly lowered herself down into a squatting position, so that her legs were spread and she was sat with her backside resting on her heels. She pulled the top of her thong away from her stomach, indicating to Ringo to insert the five pound note. Grinning, he leaned forward and taking as much time as he could, slipped the note down the front of her thong.

“What’s your name?” he asked excitedly.

“Angel,” she breathed out in a husky voice. She winked at Ringo and turned back towards the pole.

“Fuckin’ hell,” repeated Dave.

We watched the rest of Angel’s performance in silence and got to our feet to clap, whistle and cheer as she walked off stage.

“I’m in love,” said Ringo.

We laughed at him again. He looked like he was suddenly floating on air.

“Put your tongue back in!” said Dave still chuckling. “Look, here’s what we’re gonna do. 'Cos you guys have been top mates and helped me forget about you-know-who, I want you both to select a girl and then when our friendly neighbourhood bunny girl waitress comes back over, I’ll pay for a lap dance for each of us.”

“Top man!” shouted Ringo excitedly. “Mine’s Angel!”

“Okay,” said Dave laughing again. “What about you Rick, you seen anyone yet?”

“Nah, I’ll bide my time and have a good look round first.”

We sat and watched another five or six equally impressive dancers over the next hour. Dave was trying to decide between two brunette’s that he’d spotted, Bambi and Dixie. All the girls we’d seen were attractive and sexy but I hadn’t seen anyone in particular that had really caught my eye.

The time passed quickly and our waitress was soon back, smiling as she walked over to us.

“What’s it to be then gentleman?” she asked pleasantly.

“Angel!” said Ringo almost before she’d finished her sentence.

The waitress gave a little giggle. “Very popular is our Angel. I’ll see if she’s free for you. What about you sir? Have you seen anyone?” she said nodding at Dave.

“I can’t decide between Dixie and Bambi to be honest.”

“I’ll make sure I get one of them for you. What about you young man?” she said, her gaze wandering across to meet my eyes.

“I haven’t really seen anyone that special. What about one of the older women you talked about earlier. If you could get one of those for me, it’d be a nice surprise I reckon.”

“Okay boys. I’ll see what I can arrange and I’ll be back over in five minutes.”

“What about the money?” asked Dave.

“You can pay the girls direct,” she replied before disappearing.

True to her word, she came back over five minutes later.

“Right gentleman. I have Angel for you, Bambi for you and Foxy or Honey for you. They are our two older ladies free right now. Foxy is in her thirties, brunette with nice round boobs and very slim. Honey is in her forties, blonde, voluptuous and even bigger boobs.”

“Honey sounds perfect. Thanks,” I said.

“Okay boys, if you want to make your way over there to the back, Carla is waiting for you to show you to your booths. Enjoy it and remember, no touching.”

As we made our way over to the back of the club, Dave turned round to us and gave us a twenty pound note each.

“Have a good time fella’s,” he said grinning. “What’s with the grandma request though?” he asked, nodding at me.

“Dunno,” I replied. “Guess I’ve always fantasised about older women. It’s the thought of them seducing me and sharing all their worldly experience.”

“Bloody hell,” said Ringo laughing. “You’re only having a lap dance.”

At that moment we reached Carla who gave us a friendly greeting and led us to three separate booths. They were in the same room but were separated by thick red curtains. There were two bouncers in tuxedos at the entrance to the room. I sat down in the comfortable chair provided and waited nervously for Honey.

I was twiddling with my thumbs when I heard the curtain move. I looked up to see Honey’s rear as she was pulling the curtain back across. She was wearing an open backed tight fitting gold coloured dress. Like all the other dancers, it was obvious she was wearing no bra and her legs were bare. She had on matching gold coloured high heels with criss-crossing ties round her ankles.

She turned round and I froze. I was certain the woman I was starring at was my Aunt Wanda.

I hadn’t seen Aunt Wanda in about eight years but even after all that time, I was sure it was her. My head was spinning. Had she recognised me? Would she recognise me now? Should I say anything? What the hell was she doing here?

She looked fantastic, that was for sure. Definitely not out of place amongst the younger girls we’d been watching. If she had walked in and I hadn’t known her, I would have been delighted.

I used to see her quite often when I was little, and I remembered fantasising about her quite a lot when I reached the age of ten or eleven. She always used to wear short skirts and tight tops and looked fantastic in a bikini. I used to try and visit as much as possible in the summer. She and Uncle Tommy didn’t have any kids, but they had an outdoor pool, which was a rarity in England. She also spoke to me like an adult, not a little kid like the rest of the family used to do. I liked her even more because of that.

All of a sudden, when I was eleven, she disappeared. My Mum told us she’d split with my Uncle Tommy, there had been some complications and we probably wouldn’t be seeing them any more. Even though she was Mum’s sister and I was sad when she told me, I never questioned it. I don’t suppose you do at that age.

She continued to walk towards me, smiling, wiggling her hips, her massive breasts swinging beneath her glamorous dress. She turned her back to me and bent over, showing me her shapely behind. She slowly lifted her dress until I could see the whole of her backside apart from the thin sliver of gold resting in the crack of her ass. She shook her hips from side to side, her backside a matter of inches from my face, giggled and stood again, letting her dress fall back to her knees.

I still couldn’t speak. I could feel the sweat on my back and underarms and I must have had a look of terror on my face. The music seemed to be getting louder and was pounding in my head. Then she spoke and I knew without any doubt at all that it was definitely her.

“Pammy told me you were a hot young thing, but she didn’t tell me you were this hot,” she whispered in my ear, emphasising the word ‘this’. She was leaning forward, continuing to gently gyrate to the music. I couldn’t believe my ears and realised she had no clue who I was. I was busy ogling down the front of her dress at her wonderful breasts when she stood up and stepped back, ready to remove her clothing. I suddenly got a grip and snapped out of it.

“Aunt Wanda,” I blabbed. “It’s me, it’s Rick…your nephew.”

The words seemed to hang in the air. She stepped back further to look at me, taking in what I’d just said. Then she screamed. Loudly.

Before I knew what was happening, the two heavies wearing tuxes had burst through the curtain and charged at me. I’m not sure which one hit me first, but I went flying off the chair and through the curtain into the next booth. My head felt heavy and the room was spinning. I could taste blood in my mouth and as I started to re-focus, one of the bouncers was pinning me down, his hot smoke stained breath centimetres from my face. He was snarling and shouting at me.

“No touching punk!”

I couldn’t have moved even if I had wanted to. I heard Aunt Wanda above us, screaming at the heavy.

“Get off him! Get off him! He hasn’t done anything!”

“Yeah, get off dick-head.” I recognised Ringo’s voice, realising I must have been knocked into his booth.

The grip loosened around my shirt collar and the bouncer lifted his heavy frame from me and got to his feet. He growled at Ringo and turned to Aunt Wanda.

“What did you scream for then yer stupid bitch?”

“I, I, I…thought I’d seen a mouse,” she stammered in reply.

There was quite a crowd gathered round by this time. Dave was stood at the side of Ringo, their arms folded across their chests, trying to look as big and hard as possible.

“Fuckin’ hell,” said Dave out of the side of his mouth to Ringo. “I’d hate to have heard her scream if Rick had touched her.”

Aunt Wanda dropped to her knees beside me. Her delicate hands stroked my stinging face. I had the perfect view of her ample cleavage, her swaying globes inches above me in the stretchy fabric of her dress.

“Ricky, Ricky, you alright? Oh god, you’re bleeding. Come on, let’s get you sorted out.”

She helped me to my feet and I gently shook my head and put my hand to my mouth to make sure all my teeth were still intact. There didn’t seem to be any missing or anything chipped.

“What the fuck happened?” asked Ringo coming over with Dave.

“Look, don’t worry about it. Just get back and enjoy your dances. I’ll see you in a while. I’m just going to get cleaned up.” With that, Aunt Wanda took my hand and I followed her past the bouncers, down a corridor under a sign that said ‘staff only’ and towards a door with the words ‘no unauthorised personnel beyond this point’ painted on it.

Aunt Wanda gently knocked on the door and said “It’s Wanda. Anyone in there? You decent?”

“Just me. Jenny.” Her voice got louder as she spoke. “Why you knocking honey?” she opened the door from the inside and a pretty black face appeared. She came into full view as the door opened wider. She was wearing only knickers and a pair of thigh high boots. She made no attempt to cover herself as she looked at me in surprise.

“Well who’s this hot, young stud?” she said smiling at me, and then, “Oh, what happened to your face?” as I tried to smile back.

“Long story,” replied Aunt Wanda. “Look, can you do us a favour Jen. I just need five minutes privacy to try and help get him cleaned up. Can you just stay out here and keep an eye out for us.”

“Sure thing Wanda, let me just grab my dress.”

We followed her inside and didn’t speak until she had left the room. The smell of perfume was strong and soft music played through a small stereo on a table in the middle of the room. I didn’t know what to say. I looked up at Aunt Wanda and saw the concern in her face.

“First of all, let’s get your face cleaned up. Then we can talk.” She led me over to a sink in the far corner of the room. There was a large mirror above it and I looked at my face. Blood was decorating my lower lip and there was a lump below my left eye.

“You took quite a hit there Ricky. Sorry about that,” she said quietly while reaching across and wiping the blood from my face and lips with a wet flannel.

“It’s okay Aunt Wanda, don’t fuss.” I said, not looking at her.

“I was just a little shocked that’s all. You’ve changed so much Ricky…you’re a man.”

“You haven’t changed Aunt Wanda. You still look fantastic,” I said raising my head to look at her.

“Aww, that’s sweet. Thank you.”

“Why did you and Uncle Tommy split?” I asked. “Why did you leave town?”

“I guess your Mum never told you huh?” she said taking my hand again and leading me over to a couch. I sat beside her and waited for her to start talking again. She took a deep breath before opening her mouth.

“I’m not sure where to start. I haven’t seen Tommy for about seven years now. We got divorced a year after I moved away. The last I saw of him was at the divorce hearing. He used to knock me around a little and didn’t believe I should leave the house without him. He was a very jealous person. Unfortunately, I didn’t realise until we were married and then it was too late.” She bowed her head as she paused and then looked at me.