Mandy's Burlesque

Mandy's idea was to have me hire her out to a bachelor party where she could pop out of a cake. We'd been playing around with showing her off for a couple months, going out to bars with her in short skirts and no underwear - that kind of stuff. This was something else, again. She was going to wear a G-string, and dance on the table. Just to make it safe, she suggested we do it in another town, where there wouldn't be any chance someone would recognize her. I wasn't quite sure I was ready for it, but the shivery thrill coming off Mandy was too strong. I told her I'd see if something came up.

Then it happened like fate. A couple weeks later, I was on the road, hauling a load of electronic parts to St. Louis. I was stopped in at my favorite truck-stop bar talking to some of the guys that hung around there. One of them said his younger brother Bobby was getting married in a few weeks, and they were planning a party. I started asking about the entertainment, still not sure I wanted to go through with Mandy's plan. The guy said he'd like to get some kind of stripper, since his kid brother was such a straight arrow type. But he didn't know where he was going to find one in that hick town. I hemmed and hawed for awhile, but wound up telling him I thought I could get him one. "Yeah," I finally admitted. "I know one I could get. Just topless, though." He looked a little disappointed, but said to go ahead and book her if I could.

Mandy was excited when I told her. She ran right down to the lingerie store and bought her G-string. Then she picked out some music and began planning her act. She wanted to pop out of a cake. I told her it wasn't necessary; any way she got her top off and danced around on the table was going to make those boys happy. But she wouldn't hear about it and I had to rig up a little cart with a false bottom stand for the cake. It had a big hoop of cardboard and a cardboard lid with colored spackle all over it like frosting. When we got through, it sort of looked like a big cake on a tray, and Mandy had room to crouch down inside.

We tried it a couple times and I thought it was pretty good. The cake wasn't going to fool anybody, but it had a nice theatrical touch. And Mandy looked so sexy popping up half naked, I got into a sweat, just thinking about her doing it in front of a roomful of hooting and hollering men. She wasn't satisfied, though. She wanted to carry the cake thing one step further, maybe cover her nipples with some frosting, or something. I thought she was trying to hedge her bets a little, not quite comfortable completely topless. We tried a couple different kinds of frosting, but she wasn't happy with any of them, till she brought home one of those cans of whipped cream. When she got in her costume and squirted big round glops of the stuff on both tits, she found she could even make a little peak with it, like a fancy cake decoration.

"This is it," she laughed, posing in the bathroom mirror.

"You look good enough to eat."

"Well, that's the idea." The look in her eye was too hot to resist. I licked her off and dragged her into the bedroom.

On my next layover, I dropped in at the usual place and confirmed Mandy's contract with Darrell, the guy giving the party. He wanted to know all about her. "So, what's she like, man? You seen her perform?"

"Yeah. Once or twice."

"Well, come on, give."

"Well, she's a knockout," I gulped, thinking about what he'd see. "... great body, slim, beautiful legs, pretty face, great dancer."

"Yeah, okay. Sounds great, but you think she'd maybe get down with Bobby, give him a 'special' performance, you know, just for him on his last bachelor fling."

I almost choked on my drink. "Shit no, Darrell," I sputtered. "This one's not like that. She's just there to dance. Okay?"

"Sure, sure, man. Just ... you never know. Maybe for a nice big tip, huh?" He grinned like a wild man.

"No way." I shook my head fiercely. "Don't even suggest it, man. You'll just piss her off."

"Alright."

Later, some of the guys who would be at the party joined us. Darrell was quick to give them the good news about the stripper for his brother's party. Naturally, the conversation turned to Mandy's act. After a few minutes of that, I had to get out of there. Normally, I would have joined right in, but their raucous joking took on a whole different meaning when it was my sweet wife they were talking about. I told myself to relax and enjoy it. It was something I'd always had fantasies about and now I was going to see them come true.

We drove up the day before Mandy's show, with the cake in the back of our pickup. I chose a motel ten miles away on the other side of town, just to make sure there were no chance encounters with any of the boys from the bar.

We slept late and hung around in a fog the next day. We weren't due to show up till after ten, but by then, I was half drunk and morose. "You don't have to do this, Mandy," I said.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean it's no problem if you want to just forget it. You know?"

"Oh come on, Hank," she chided. "It'll be fun, right? Let's get over there. It's almost showtime." She flashed her sweetest smile.

We went, but I was still uneasy. The place was a restaurant with a private room upstairs. We had to go in the front, wheel the cart through the entry foyer, and carry it up the stairs. At the top of the stairs, we looked down a short hall to the closed door of the function room. From the sounds coming through the door, it was clear the party was in full swing. I felt a little better to see Mandy getting kind of wide-eyed with her own nerves.

I had her wait, while I went in to talk to Darrell, tell him we were there, and find out when he wanted me to wheel in the cake. Darrell was delighted to see me, as were several of the other guests I knew from the bar. They knew what my presence meant, and the word started going around the table. Darrell said to bring her in whenever we were ready, just give him a nod from the door to announce the arrival of Bobby's 'special' cake.

When I got back to her, Mandy held open a door off the hall. "This looks like a good place to change and get set up, okay Hank?"

We went into a little storage room just big enough for the cart and us. Mandy checked her makeup, shrugged out of her clothes down to the white lace G-string, and got in the cake. I watched her sweet tits bob while she shook the whipped cream. She giggled when she squirted it on, but she got it right.

"Well," she turned to me laughing nervously. "What do you think?"

"Great." She looked fantastic, but I was too unnerved to muster much enthusiasm.

"Okay. Here goes" she said, crouching down in the cake. She was careful not to smudge the sweet white puffs on her breasts.

I looked down at her and thought how unreal this whole thing was. I shrugged and put the top on. "You okay, in there."

"Yep," she giggled. "All systems go."

"Okay," I breathed. "You're on."

I packed her clothes into a small athletic bag and took out the boom box we'd brought. It was eerie wheeling her out into the hall, and I was worried about getting intercepted by the restaurant staff, but nothing happened. I opened the door and nodded to Darrell, pausing to let him get up and start whipping up the party for Mandy's big entrance.

He stood up and tapped his glass with a knife. The noisy conversations died out and all eyes went to him.

"Gentlemen," he began with mock solemnity, "and all the rest of you. We are gathered here tonight to send my little brother Bobby out onto the sea of matrimony. I think we're all a little curious what kind of a sailor he'll make. The thing about it is, I don't think he's ever got his feet - or some other parts of him - wet."

The whole room laughed, and Bobby smiled good naturedly. He was a cute kid, no more than twenty-two, clean cut All-American looks, with dark hair kind of long in front that kept hanging down over his eyes when he'd look down. Even sitting down, you could see he must have played high school football. He looked at least six-two and two- ten, all lean farmboy muscle.

Darrell made a couple more off color jokes at Bobby's expense, then signaled for me to wheel in the cake. "... So we got to give him a big sendoff tonight, right boys?"

"Yeah," a few of them yelled back.

"And I thought we'd start with a big cake. What do you think?"

"Yeah," they all yelled, this time.

"Okay."

I rolled the cart over to the table beside Bobby.

"Well here it is," Darrell went on, "a great big cake. Only thing, Bobby, I got to warn you. Don't eat too much of this one tonight. You'll want to save your appetite for tomorrow."

The faces around the table leered and called out: "Cut the cake."

"Okay, now Bobby," Darrell handed him a butter knife. "You sure you're up to it now? Well, go ahead, but don't cut too deep. This party ain't insured."

Bobby stood up and pretended to saw at the cardboard top of the cake for just a second. Then it popped off, and Mandy stood up in front of him, all smooth skin and whipped cream. She had a big lopsided grin plastered on her face and her eyes were sparkling with excitement. Bobby leaned back, looking at her with mock surprise, and a certain amount of interest, I thought. Mandy leaned forward and gave him a quick kiss.

"Have a happy marriage Bobby," she said, then climbed on the table, while I turned on the boom box.

Before she started dancing, she set the can of whipped cream in the middle of the table. The guys were whistling and shouting. Darrell was trying to get them a little quiet, so we wouldn't get thrown out. But when Mandy started dancing, he didn't need too. They watched her silently with greedy eyes, and she seemed to drink it in. She's always been a good dancer; but up there on top of the table, stripped half naked, she took it to a new level. The music just got inside her and took her for a ride. She was gyrating, everything moving, legs flashing, hips swaying, torso bending and twisting, head thrown side to side, arms swirling in the air. Then, she'd slow it down and smooth it out, barely moving at all, her body drawn into a graceful pose, the beat still oozing through her. The men watched in a kind of awe.

The only thing that failed her was her costume. The whipped cream lasted about two seconds when she started dancing. Most of it slipped off, some falling onto the men ringing the table. The rest ran down her chest like buttermilk, leaving her nipples standing naked and tall in the milky residue. She didn't seem to notice, and the men certainly didn't mind. She kept dancing around on the long, wide table, while a flush of pure pleasure spread over her face, softening in her eyes,.

When the first song was done, she stopped and stood there smiling at them. The men clapped and whistled. Darrell had to shush them, to keep them from drawing the management. The music started again, "Love Me Tender," by Elvis. Before she moved into it, she looked at the guest of honor and said: "Bobby, this one's for you." And she fixed him with a smouldering look that was very convincing.

There's just about no way you can dance to "Love Me Tender." It's so slow, even the high school sweethearts groping each other at the prom look like the walking dead. But Mandy figured a way to turn it on. She took a slow promenade around the table, looking every one of them in the eye. Then she got down on the table and laid herself out, right in front of Bobby, stretching and pointing her toes, arching her back, slowly, in time with the music, very sensuous. The dance came down to a series of poses that she moved in and out of, careful always to give the best view to Bobby. Finally, as the song was nearing the end, she raised her legs and pointed them at the ceiling. The boys craned their necks, straining for a better view of her crotch, covered as it was by only the slimmest possible filament of fabric. They whooped and whistled as she slowly let her feet fall off to the sides, opening her sweet thighs for their pleasure, pulsing hotly to the soft beat as the song faded.

My throat constricted in fear as they applauded. What was she doing? Didn't she know where she was? Didn't she know she was going beyond the point of no return? These guys were half drunk already, out for a wild time. She was stepping on the border, if she hadn't already passed it. One more step and there was no way Darrell or me was going to control them.

Mandy wasn't fazed, though. She jumped up and gave them her smile. "Thanks, guys," she yelled, then pointed to me. "Hank, hold that tape a minute."

I pushed the stop button, wondering what she was doing.

"Now, I know you boys were expecting a sweet dessert when you ordered this cake, and I meant to give you one." Whistles and hoots told her they weren't disappointed with her treat, but she went on: "Especially your guest of honor, the soon-to-be-a- married-man, Bobby - I had it all whipped up for him."

She looked down in mock dismay, searching her breasts for the two puffs of whipped cream that had been part of her costume when she burst out of the cake. "But now I seem to have lost them. Bobby, I'm really very sorry. I know how hungry you must be, and I'll bet that sweet cream treat would have really hit the spot."

Sadly, she shook her head back and forth. For just a moment, the table was silent. Suddenly, she brightened. "I know," and she reached down for the whipped cream. "I could probably whip them up again. Would you like that?"

"Yeah," they roared back in unison.

"Okay. That's it. And then we can give Bobby his just desserts. Right?"

"Yeah."

"Great," she beamed, then turned serious. "Just one thing, though. You know it's pretty hard to make these particular cream puffs. Takes quite awhile to put them together. I think it's only fair you big sports should part with a little tip to get Bobby this special treat, don't you? So, while I'm whipping them up, I hope you'll be putting your money where your mouths are, so Bobby's mouth can be filled with a delicious creamy treat. Don't you think that's a good idea?"

"Yeah."

They started reaching for their wallets, and Mandy signalled to me to start the tape. "First thing you got to do to make this kind of treat," she said as music began, "is shake it up real good."

And she started shaking that can of whipped cream for all she was worth. Dancing around the table, shaking it up and down and side to side, her tits moving like they had lives of their own. It wasn't wasted motion. All around the table, five and ten dollar bills started appearing. Mandy smiled and scooped them up, locking them into the G-string at her hip. Then she went back to dancing and shaking the can, just as enthusiastically as ever. When the song was almost done, she stopped and took the top off the can. Pointing it right at her left nipple, she pressed the nozzle and let fly with the pressurized cream. It made a nice puff that perched neatly on the end of her tit. She did the same on the right one, and put the can back down in the center of the table.

"There," she smiled. "Two sweet cream treats, fresh made. Don't they just look delicious?"

More whistles, whoops, and slapping of the table answered her, as she slowly advanced toward Bobby, who looked a little stunned. She stood before him for a moment, looking down at him looking up at her. Then she dropped down and sat on the table with her legs hanging off on either side of him. That put her whipped cream covered breasts just about eye level. Bobby obediently stared at them, a vague smile toying with his blank expression.

Bobby may not yet have realized where this was going, but I did.

"Well," Mandy asked, loud enough for everyone to hear, "what do you say? Your friends were awful generous to pay for these nice deserts. Aren't you even going to thank them?"

Bobby cleared his throat uncertainly. "Yeah. I uh ... Thanks, you guys." But he just kept staring at the white mounds on Mandy's chest, not at all certain what to do next. Some of the guests started to snicker.

"Well," Mandy repeated, smiling brightly "aren't you hungry? Go ahead. Just one rule, though. The proper way to eat this kind of dessert is with the lips and tongue only - no spoons or forks, no hands. Okay?" The boys rumbled with anticipation. She leaned forward and arched her chest closer to his face.

Bobby looked up at her one more time, his eyebrows raised in a question. Mandy just smiled and looked away, catching my eyes for a second before her glance drifted overhead in a mask of innocence. Finally, Bobby's mouth opened and his tongue touched the white cap on her left breast.

The table erupted with loud applause and whoops of encouragement. He looked around and grinned, a spot of whipped cream on the tip of his nose. Mandy smiled distractedly, and a vague hint of doubt showed through her professionally smooth and bright exterior. But she put her hands on his shoulders and drew him to her again.

This time he took a bigger swipe of the cream and quickly swallowed it down. Then he went after it with a purpose. He licked the left side, then the right side and took the top, always careful to avoid penetrating to the skin. In a moment, all that was left was a thin irregular coating. Mandy's face had become more and more focused in anticipation with each near miss of his tongue. Finally, he looked up at her face and she looked back at him.

"You're not going to leave it half finished, are you?" she muttered, then pulled his head to her, mashing his face against her breast.

That did it. He made a low animal sound and began to rub his face back and forth over the soft flesh of her breast. Mandy's eyes closed and her head fell back, drinking in the strange sensation. Her tits, in my experience, had always been eager for a sensual caress, generally leading her to better things. For Bobby, they were just as ready, if not more so. A dark red bead appeared at the peak of her left tit as his face wiped away the cream. It seemed to strain toward him for fulfillment. Finally, his tongue emerged and swiped across it, producing an answering moan from Mandy.

She looked down at him again, her eyes smouldering. "Now clean your plate, young man," she said with a catch in her throat.

He did, licking up every drop of the cream that clung to her breast, and finishing with a quick suck that slowly and grudgingly pulled away from her nipple, leaving it standing taut and taller than I had ever seen. By that time, her eyes were closed, focused inward on her own pleasure.

When he attacked her right breast, he wasn't shy. His tongue took away broad swaths of whipped cream, each of which ended at the nipple. Every time his tongue slid up to, but not over her nipple, Mandy arched her back and rolled her head slightly, eagerly awaiting that next step to fulfillment. But Bobby was learning how to play her. He cleaned up the cream from everywhere but that tiny patch. When he finally took it into his mouth, Mandy gasped, and the men around the table swallowed and licked their lips. He put his hands on her hips and drew her to him as his mouth sucked and tongued fiercely. When he finally pulled away, Mandy sighed heavily, looking around the room as if she was seeing it for the first time. She leaned back and smiled intimately up into Bobby's face as her breathing returned to normal.

She stood up and put a hand to her head. "Whoo," she exclaimed, "I think I better dance a bit, get myself back together. That boy was hungry!"

They all laughed and she signalled me to hit the tape. I was glad to. Maybe that was all she had in mind.

When that song was through, Mandy had me cut the tape. She smiled again, her sly smile, letting them know she had another trick up her sleeve, or up somewhere, as it turned out. I know I never could have imagined what she had in mind.