Amy_'s blog post - Part 9: McDonna, Over 50 Billion Served

Wednesday, October 15, 2025, 7:57:35 PM
This picture is not directly related to this story, but was taken my freshman year, when these events took place.


(Mid 1980s) Gator Growl is basically the world’s largest pep rally. Held at the University of Florida, where tens of thousands gather to be entertained by a student-run production that includes a variety of entertainment and appearances by top entertainers. When I was there, the main acts were Bill Cosby, The Smothers Brothers, Billy Crystal, and one year I was the director of Gator Growl when the guest performer was Jay Leno.

My freshman year, I was nobody. I volunteered to help with the production and was assigned some low-level responsibilities. But before it was over, I landed a role in the production that led to a world class experience for an exhibitionist.

The weeks leading up to Gator Growl were a roller coaster. I was accepted into a sorority, and having grown up watching 70’s and 80’s comedies of sorority girls frolicking in lingerie while boys spied through the windows and plotted panty raids, I had prepared for something much different than I encountered, and this led me to a bit of trouble.

I arrived at college with the plan to break free from my conservative upbringing and ‘good girl’ reputation and prove I could be wild and daring. I started my campaign as soon as I arrived on campus, quickly gaining a certain reputation for how I dressed and had behaved at several parties, and some other activities. It was not long until I realized that I had vastly overcorrected. My new friends had not come to college already thinking of me as the preacher’s daughter. So, my extensive efforts were not only unnecessary, I also ended up alienating myself from my peers. After some early problems, I spent the rest of my freshman year trying to recover.

Most of the trouble had to do with boyfriends, but not my own. Guys were not allowed on the second floor of our sorority house, but they still end up there much of the time. In high school, I had learned my lesson about being naked around my girlfriends (Part 3), so I started wearing nighties at the sorority house. After a while, some of the girls asked that I not wear lingerie, particularly my see through stuff, around their boyfriends. I probably should have been more accommodating, but at the time I felt I was already covering up enough, and the boys were not supposed to be on the second floor anyway. As far as I was concerned, if they came upstairs, they would see what they saw.

I was also upset because of how much money I had spent on these nighties. I grew up in a nice house on Hilton Head Island, reaping the benefits of living in a resort community, with a membership to the county club, sailing on friend’s yachts, and traveling to Europe, Israel, Egypt, and dozens of other amazing places. But my family actually had very little money. These extravagances were only possible because my father was the minister for a wealthy community. Admissions were regularly granted, fees generally waved, and much of what we had was given to us, as is common in this type of arrangement through the church and its members.

When I left for college, my parents gave me money, but it was not very much, and I was expected to make it last. I immediately squandered it all. Never having been in control of any real money before, I spent it on fancy dinners for my new friends, and I bought a lot of clothes – but very little the type I could wear to class. Just a few weeks in, I realized it was necessary for me to get a job.

My first approach to landing a job only highlighted my foolishness and motivations at the time. It was an offbeat novelty shop that was hiring, and happened to sell a product I had been wanting to buy for a while. So, I went in and filled out the job application, had a brief interview, then bought a vibrator on the way out.

Besides the main purpose for which the device was designed, I also had other reasons that motivated my purchase. I saw it as a sign of maturity. And I didn’t want to feel ashamed of it, which I would have if I tried to hide it. I was determined to not be shy about buying, owning, or using it. So, I was open about it. I picked out the most colorful one I could find, proudly placed it on the counter, and purchased it from the same people with whom I had just interviewed for a job.

This shop was Spencer's Gifts, located in the middle of the mall. I was so proud of myself, and quite amused at the wide-eyed reaction of the people in Spencer’s, that I decided not to go straight back to the house. I carried my vibrator through the mall, throwing out the bag they put it in, and sat with the box on display next to me as I had lunch at the food court. I was such an idiot. (By the way… I didn’t get that job.)

At the sorority house, I kept the vibrator in its original box on the table next to my bed. Some of the girls thought this was amusing and strange, but the boys were fascinated. I was asked a lot of questions about it, and was happy to answer. I loved the attention and how bold and sexy it made me feel.

This was around the time things came to a climax at the house (no pun intended). A boy had asked me about the vibrator while his girlfriend, my roommate Kim, was out of the room. I showed it to him and gave a little pantomime while describing how I would use it. Kim didn’t like me already, but when she returned to find her boyfriend sitting on my bed with me in a nightie showing my techniques with my vibrator, all hell broke loose. I had never been in a fight before. If not for her boyfriend, she would have killed me. I felt bad for him. I never saw him on the second floor again.

I had been slapped in the face, literally and figuratively, with the realization that I needed to improve my behavior. First, I took a break from the house and started finding more activities outside of the sorority. One of these was volunteering to work on Gator Growl.

Most of my responsibilities were quite boring (nothing worth writing about). But one day I heard that a certain parade float was going to be cancelled. Part of the show would have floats paraded through the stadium. The float to be cancelled was the one I thought would be the best. The problem was that they could not find anyone to play the lead character in the skit that was to take place on the float. I was shocked. I thought this would be a dream role. I immediately volunteered.

The theme of the float was “McDonna, Over 50 Billion Served,” an amalgamation of Madonna and the then popular McDonald’s slogan. This was around the time Madonna had caused a bit of a sensation with her "Like a Virgin" performance at the MTV Video Music Awards. She writhed around and gyrated on the stage, and live television, while touching herself in a white “wedding dress” that was more like lingerie. (Please Google it if you have not seen it. For the time, it was quite scandalous.) I envied her. Most of my wardrobe at the time was inspired by Madonna. Playing her on the float, and in this way, was beyond anything I could have dreamed.

The float was to have McDonna writhing around in lingerie on a bed atop the float while groping, and being groped by, a group of beautiful men – under a McDonald’s like sign reading “Over 50 Billion Served.” My thoughts of performing with these guys in this way in front of a crowded football stadium, while advertising the idea that I had “served” 50 billion, was the most erotic and arousing thing I could have imagined. I prayed it would actually happen, as it was quite salacious, and we all knew it might not get approved.

Although I knew going through with this could work against my new effort to clean up my act and improve my relationship with my sorority sisters, I never wanted to do anything more than be McDonna. I decided that pretending to be a good girl to fit in at the sorority was wrong. I would embrace my true self.

This project was perfect for me. One of my early responsibilities was to demonstrate costume options. Of course, I took this too far. I went all white, choosing from my own new collection, a lacey bra and panties with thigh high stockings and garter. It was great fun having all the attention while demonstrating and working through these options with everyone as we put our ideas together. But eventually I was told that I needed to choose a different bra, as mine was too revealing (my nipples could be seen through the lace), and they insisted I cover my panties with a skirt.

I was disappointed but still found ways of keeping it sexy, going with a more opaque bra, but smaller than the first. I loved how it made my breasts look. And I added a short white tulle skirt, that I had originally purchased for ballet. But I had ideas to deal with the skirt as soon as the performance began.

During rehearsals, I noticed that the guys with whom I was performing were often coming close but not really touching me very much. I made it clear to them that I intended to go all out. I told them we needed to look wildly sexy. We had to be unrestrained, and they should not hold back. We agreed to go a little easy for the rehearsals, to avoid being cancelled, but we would really go for it at the show. I was as excited as I had ever been to do anything.

I feel certain that something like this act could not even be considered today, but back then it was still quite racy and a bit controversial. I relished being in the middle of it.

When the day came, and we were in the tunnel about to make our entrance, I told the guy who was the most into it, that I wanted him to rip off my skirt when we were out there. It was very loud, and the float started to move, so I didn’t get an answer. As we came out of the tunnel and the float was revealed to the stadium of 70,000 people, everyone went wild. The energy of the crowd fed my own, and that of my guys. We had hardly begun, and my skirt was already gone. It was far more physical and lascivious than even I had intended. I was so overcome, barely able to see or hear anything while simulating sex and being molested by my guys. At different times, I was aware that one or both of my boobs were out. But with all the groping, I think they stayed mostly obscured, and occasionally one of the guys would tuck me in.

There was a moment when time seemed to stand still. A moment I still picture clearly today, when I recognized what was really happening. I knew my boobs had popped out the top of my bra and I was there in my little white lacey panties, covered only by eight large, shirtless, athletic men, writhing on a huge bed as the center of attention while literally being paraded in front of a sold-out football stadium. Although this was something I had never imagined, it felt like my most amazing fantasy had come true.

For any aspiring exhibitionists out there, if you are ever presented with an opportunity to dress in your sexiest outfit and be ravaged by many in front of an incredibly high energy, screaming, and cheering crowd of 70,000… seize it!

The fallout at the sorority was not as bad as I had imagined it would be. By the end of the year, they knew what to expect from me, and just accepted it. I wish I could have gotten along better, but I felt good about being accepted for who I really am. If I had done any different, I would have missed out on one of the most incredible experiences of my life.
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Comments

Others Have Said: 
balhannah1 on 16-Oct-25 9:37:17
very interesting very well written

maxswell69 on 18-Oct-25 11:11:32
You are a consummate storyteller! You build suspense into every story you write.

foamgrass on 18-Oct-25 17:45:27
Touché Max. Please keep your blog entries coming, Amy! 😊

foamgrass on 18-Oct-25 17:45:46
Touché Max. Please keep your blog entries coming, Amy! 😊

jake5270 on 19-Oct-25 16:22:57
Riveting tale. You should have tried to get a soft porn show on cable back in the late '70s-'80s. You would have been #1.