Mandy's Burlesque

"Gee, Bobby," she said, looking at him and shaking her head, "I never saw a guy with such an appetite. I give him two big rich desserts and he looks more hungry now than he did before. Are you still hungry?"

"Uh, yeah," Bobby answered, a little slow to catch on, but learning.

"Well, what do you think, guys? We going to let Bobby leave his party hungry?"

"No," they shouted back.

"You think he'd like another sweet treat?"

"Yeah."

"Okay. I know another one I can whip up. It's a very special one I wouldn't do for just anybody. It's alot of work, and it takes a special talent to make it come out just right, you know. But, Bobby's such a nice kid, and you guys I know will be generous. It'll be worth it. Right?"

"Yeah."

"Okay. Hank, some music, please. Now I'll prepare it, and come around the table. We'll see if you guys really want Bobby to taste my secret special treat."

So I put on the music and Mandy picked up the whipped cream and started shaking. I still couldn't guess what she was up to, but the boys were hooked. Some real money started to appear around the table - tens and twenties. I tried to keep track in my head and it looked like close to four hundred dollars she picked up shaking and dancing her way around the table. She had a sweet smile for each of them as she took his money.

When the song was done, she brought the money over and handed it to me. Without saying a word, she walked back across the table to Bobby and sat down before him. "You got some pretty nice friends, Bobby. They sure don't want to see you leave this table unsatisfied, do they? Well, I think I've got just the thing. Would you give me a hand?" She stood up on her knees and pulled the band of her G-string out from her hips. "Would you pull these off for me?"

He reached hesitantly for the G-string where she had indicated, at her hips, and slowly peeled it down her legs. When her trimmed brown bush emerged from behind the white lace, the boys stirred expectantly.

Mandy sat back and extended her legs toward him, allowing him to pull the G- string all the way off. Now she was completely naked, sitting facing him with her legs slightly spread. She smiled and reached for the whipped cream. "I think you'll like this dish," she said. Then she inserted the nozzle of the can directly into her pussy and pressed. The can made a muffled hiss and Mandy's mouth dropped open at the strange sensation of whipped cream squirting into her vagina. The men around the table were too much into it to make a sound.

After a good long squirt inside, Mandy pulled the nozzle out and swirled some around her outer lips. Finally, she put the can down and scooted her butt a little closer to Bobby. Her feet were perched on the edge of the table on either side of him, her knees in the air. She leaned back on her elbows and looked him in the eye. "There it is, Bobby," she said in a husky whisper. "It's all for you." Then she lay back on the table and closed her eyes.

Bobby leaned forward and tentatively kissed her inner thigh. Mandy arched her back and quickly ran a hand over her tits, breathing in sharp little gasps, sensitized beyond endurance. He licked at the visible cream, letting his tongue penetrate to her flesh. At the touch of his tongue, she seemed to concentrate back down on her waiting pussy, and Bobby didn't torment her. He began to lick and suck away the cream by the mouthful, barely stopping to swallow. In seconds no more cream could be seen. Immediately, he began to suck on her labia and penetrate her with his tongue. Mandy was gone, writhing and groaning rhythmically, grinding her pussy in his face, building toward her orgasm. Bobby grabbed her hips and pulled her to him, sucking, licking, tonguing her wildly. A few moments of that and Mandy went over the edge, crying out and bucking against Bobby's face in spasms of total release.

Something dripped from his chin when Bobby finally lifted his head from between her legs. His face wore a maniacal grin as he contemplated Mandy sprawled before him, still moaning softly and rolling her head from side to side. I'm not sure what he was thinking just then, but I was thinking about getting her out of there, before she had to take on the whole crowd.

It turned out Mandy was thinking of another way to finish her show. She stood up, a little shaky at first, but quickly getting into it. As much as I wished she'd stop right then, I couldn't help but admire her sense of showmanship. She went right back to entertaining her audience.

"A little music, Hank," she croaked, her voice kind of choked and garbled after her big exertion.

She started moving gently to the beat, a languorous smile softening her face. She seemed to need a moment to collect herself, and the boys watched quietly, with an odd solemnity, as if they understood. As the music built to its climax, Mandy's energy began to flow again. She moved with more of her original abandon, working the table, dancing around the periphery to give each of them a personal view of her sweet sex-gorged body. If anything, the sight of her red and swollen pussy lips, displayed so prominently before them, intimidated the men. There were no more hoots and whistles. Most of them just stared, their expression serious and intense. When the music ended, they gave her a respectful round of applause. She smiled and signalled me to cut the tape.

"Well, guys," she began, "I hope Bobby enjoyed his dessert. Sure looks like he did."

They all looked at him and laughed. The maniacal grin was still stretched across his face, like it was painted on by Mandy's talented pussy. Their laughter only made the grin wider.

Mandy laughed too. "Well, I hope he's satisfied, cause I can't think of anything else to serve him." She rolled her eyes and got another laugh. "Fact is, all this home cooking is giving me an appetite. I might even like a little dessert myself."

She paused and let them think about it for a minute. "And you know, I think it would be nice if Bobby would kind of return the favor, maybe serve me like I served him. Don't you think?"

"Yeah." They got the idea, and so did I.

"Okay. I guess we're all agreed on that. Except maybe we ought to ask Bobby what he thinks. How about it, Bobby. Would you care to serve me my dessert?"

Bobby's face looked like it might split with that grin. "Yeah," he said, enthusiastically.

"Okay," Mandy smiled. "You guys know the routine. I know it hardly seems fair when you're feeding me, but you got to remember, I'm a working girl." She waved at me. "A little collecting music, maestro."

She went around again, and those boys were good for it. She got just as much as the time before. When she was done collecting, she deposited the money with me and finished out the song shaking her can - the whipped cream can.

"Jeez, I hope I have enough of this left," she exclaimed with mock concern. "Bobby, come on up here on the table. I want my dessert, and these guys want to see you give it to me."

"Okay," Bobby agreed. He started to climb up on the table.

Mandy stopped him. "Wait a minute, now. You brought up in a barn? You don't get up on a table with your shoes on. You want to scratch it and leave dirt and stuff around where people are going to eat? Take 'em off."

Bobby got a little red, being reprimanded like that, but he pulled off his shoes and prepared to step up on the table again.

"Hold it," Mandy called out again, bringing out a knowing grin from the guys around the table. "I don't know about that belt. That could scratch the table, too. I think you better get rid of those pants."

Bobby looked around the room, then shrugged and dropped his pants. His jockey shorts were showing a bulge that Mandy didn't fail to notice. "Okay. Come on up," she said.

When he was standing in front of her in the middle of the table, Mandy shook the can one more time and arched her brow. "I wonder if you can guess how I like this stuff served?"

Bobby gulped. "I think so," he stammered.

"Good."

Mandy suddenly knelt down and pulled his underpants to the floor. The hard-on that sprang out was impressive. Mandy was pleased. "Oh my," she exulted.

Bobby reddened again, but stood there, quite willing to go along.

Mandy pointed the can at the tip of his dick and pressed the nozzle. A weak spray of the white foam spurted onto it and Mandy ran a thin line down the length of it, before the can ran out.

"Well, jeez," she frowned. "I sure hope you can supplement that, Bobby. I'm a little more hungry than that."

"Unh," Bobby grunted.

Mandy reached under and gently massaged his balls, causing the whipped cream to rise on his shaft. "Now doesn't that just look scrumptious," she asked the men around the table.

They didn't answer. They just watched as she stuck out her tongue and took a tiny taste of the whipped cream puff sitting on the tip of Bobby's red raging hard-on. "Mmm," she savored. Bobby closed his eyes.

Mandy opened wide and took the whole puff and the end of Bobby's dick into her mouth, then wrapped her lips around the shaft and pulled back, taking the cream and leaving the knob of his penis shiny and bare. Next, she licked the thin remnant of cream from the shaft, before she got down to giving him a blow job he'd never forget.

He must have been ready to go before she started, because seconds after her head began bobbing forward and back, his back arched and his hips thrust forward as he shot his load down her throat. Mandy gagged and stopped, momentarily, before she could swallow and finish him off.

When she released him, his big red dick was sagging. He opened his eyes and looked around sheepishly. The boys laughed, but not too hard.

"Mmm," Mandy approved, licking him clean, "that was delicious."

Bobby smiled softly down at her. She cupped his balls in her hand and squeezed them gently. "Only ... I'm still hungry."

She lay down on the table and kind of squirmed, then raised her pussy up at him where he stood, right between her legs. "I think I squirted too much in here," she complained, massaging her crotch. "You want to help me get it out?"

He stood there looking at her, his face blank with wonder, but his cock began to stiffen. "Uh, yeah," he said, but made no move.

Someone called out: "Go for it, Bobby."

"Yeah," several agreed.

Bobby dropped to his knees, keeping his rapt gaze on Mandy's pussy. Absently he stroked his tool, which seemed to instantly stretch to its fullest erection. As if in a daze, he leaned forward and ran his hands gently over her breasts. Mandy sighed heavily and grabbed his dick, guiding him in. Her eyes closed and her mouth came open, as his entire length disappeared inside her. She writhed against him for a moment before he started to pump. When he did, it was with long slow strokes that sent her off. Her head strained to the side and back, searching blindly for the path that would lead into the light, her hands opening and clenching in the rhythm Bobby set up, urging him on.

Gradually, his pace accelerated, and the answering gasps of Mandy's breathing showed that she was with him. The look on Bobby's face was one of fierce concentration. His head hung down from hunched shoulders, as he seemed to put all of his force behind the action of his hips, the thrust of his dick into the warmth and softness of my wife. Then, as if it was a spark their friction had raised, the rhythm changed again, and they began to buck against each other with wild extravagant energy. Bobby's cock swelled within her. The force of their grinding together lifted them off the table and raised indistinguishable animal cries.

They throttled every spasm of energy from that orgasm and lay exhausted in the middle of the table. Except for the sounds of their breathing, the room was silent, stunned. It would have felt awkward and rude to disturb them. At the same time, no one looked away. We stared at their tangled limbs like they were the embers of a fire.

Again, as she had all night, it was Mandy who moved the program along. She stirred, gently pushed Bobby off her and sat up. Gazing around the table, she made a lazy smile that somehow accepted all of us into her intimacy. Then she moved to the edge of the table and picked up a napkin. She dipped it into a water glass and came back to Bobby. Gently, she unfolded him and washed his prick and thighs with the wet napkin. Then she sat him up and kissed him softly on the lips. "Thanks, Bobby," she said in a quiet voice. "I hope you have a great day tomorrow, and live happily ever after."

She urged him to his feet, pulled up his underpants, and led him back toward his seat. "How about a hand for the future groom. I can tell you he deserves it." She started clapping, and everyone followed her, some of them turning to each other and grinning. Bobby was pulling on his pants, wearing a shit-eating grin, but his eyes looked a little glazed.

"And now, gentlemen, I have to go. I hope you've all had as much fun as I have, but let's remember why we're here. We're wishing Bobby a happy marriage. Okay? That's it. Thank you all for coming. Bye."

The men seemed a little disappointed. There were a few groans, but most of them just clapped and whistled for her as she walked to the edge of the table and stepped down into the cake. When she crouched down, I remembered who and where I was, and hustled over to put the top on the cake and the seal on her amazing performance. I quickly gathered up our things and wheeled her out of there.

We ducked into the storage room and Mandy jumped out of the cake, rapidly pulling on her dress. We stuffed everything else into the bag and Mandy dropped it into the cake. I might have left the cake behind, but seeing her intention to take it with us, I pulled it out in the hall, and we trundled it down the stairs. The restaurant was empty, but a couple of waiters were cleaning up. They gave us a curious stare as we hustled out.

In the car, on the way back to the motel, I didn't know what to say. Mandy sat facing forward, expressionless, evidently content with the silence. Finally, I said, in what I thought was a carefully neutral tone: "That was a heck of a performance."

"Yes," she agreed in the same controlled voice. Then she thought about it for a moment and couldn't stifle a nervous chuckle. "I think we gave them their money's worth. By the way, just out of curiosity, how much did we make?"

I remembered the thick wads of bills I had stuffed into my pockets. "Uh, I don't know. Probably, you add the check Darrel gave me and the tips you picked up, I guess about a thousand dollars."

"Not bad, huh?" she asked.

"Um, no," I allowed, "but, like you said, they got their money's worth."

She smiled dreamily. "Yeah."