Taboo Home Stories with Hungry Mature Moms

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Production of multiple copies of this story on paper, disk, or other fixed format is expressly forbidden. * * * * * * * * * * * * [i] A few years ago I was watching a news show on television when they did a segment with the title, [i]“Does your name shape your destiny?” “Damned straight!” I yelled at the television even before the announcer began his bit. The Big Tits answer, by the way, was “Yes,” but I already knew that because busty my name is... Barbie. My full name is Barbara Millicent Roberts, but growing up, my parents, Margaret and George Roberts insisted that everyone call me Barbie. Mom called me “Barbie Doll,” until I was a teenager and began screaming every time she said it. Then she backed off just a little and started calling me, “My little Barbie.” She still calls me that. For those of you who don’t know the complete story behind the Barbie Doll, her full name is Barbara Millicent Roberts and her parents are George and Margaret Roberts. All that information– and a lot more– first appeared in a series of novels way back in the 1960s. My mom isn’t from the 1960s, Cumshots but she evidently had a real thing for her Barbie dolls growing up and collected almost every Ken & Barbie set Mattel ever made. She also had a complete set of all of the Barbie books. I know because she still has them in “the other bedroom.” That is weird enough, but it gets even weirder. I think something snapped inside her head when she grew up and fell in love with a man by the name of George Roberts. Or more likely something snapped inside her a lot sooner than that because she was so fixated on Barbie dolls and her name was Margaret. I think that as she grew up, she started looking for a George Roberts she could marry so she could be Margaret Roberts and give birth to her own little living, breathing Barbie doll... me. However it came about, George and Margaret got married and I got born. Mom is a pasty-skinned, pale, blue-eyed blond, sort of like a Barbie mom should be. Dad is even more so. And I’m even worse. If I were any paler, I would glow in the dark. It takes hours and hours– or should I say minutes and minutes– of very careful daily tanning to build up the golden glow which my mom says makes me look healthy. My doctor didn’t think it was so healthy. He was worried about skin cancer, so he gave me these horrible-tasting little yellow pills that turned my skin darker without the tanning beds. He laughed when he gave them to me and said, “This dosage would probably turn most people dark brown, but in your case the best we can hope for is a light golden tan.” I ended up Malibu Barbie brown and stay that way as long as I take the pills. They don’t protect me from sunburn, however, so I have to slather up pretty good whenever I’m going to be out in the sun. Mom also thought I needed my boobs done because I seemed to stop growing at a small B. She and dad paid for everything, and now I’m a large C. Mom wanted them even larger, but the doctor said anything more than this would give me back problems and make me look top heavy. I feel top heavy the way it is. My senior year in high school all the boys used to stare at me and make comments as I walked by. By then I was eighteen and could say “no” to more surgeries. There was another doctor for my lips, but I managed to talk to her in private and beg her not to do the surgery. She still did the surgery, but my pleading prevented my mom from totally getting her way and having my lips plumped up way too far. The procedure is permanent, so I’m really glad I was able to talk to the doctor before the surgery. I still have more than I really want. Now I always look a little bit pouty... or maybe sexy, if you like trashy women. My heart jolted in exhilaration, my body melted into hers, and my lips opened around her awaiting mouth. She woke when he opened her car door, unbuckled her belt and helped her into the house and to her room. No one answered her. The car came to a stop and then drove again. The pounding of hooves sounded less than fifty paces away, the busty escalating scream of victory blowing from the rider’s lips. She sucked in air with a hiss and was soon breathing hard. Overlayed on that was a lot of confusion in my mind. Tittering started immediately and, as swiftly as possible, Brie made her way to a back corner of the room with her head down. Malcolm dropped his robe and moved behind the little Hispanic girl who told us dinner mature was ready. One day we was at my girlfriend house and my big bro tried to feel on my girl and I was floored. “Oh ok…I guess I should let that wait for a minute. Nor did I really want him to know. Gripping Joey by the calves, he fucked with a steady rhythm, each thrust pushing his fat dickhead against Joey's prostate and causing him to moan. For sure, I was nervous but excited at the same time. Just to ensure that the younger woman remained sealed to the elder's womanhood, Karen brought Blowjobs her hands down behind Holly's head, taking handfuls of hair in her grasp and began grinding the teen's face against her. It said that his next android would be ready tomorrow. I grin as the wizard shoves her face between green thighs. Charlotte and I went to a vacant table, sat down and drank half our wine. Cumshots I acknowledge that this is an inappropriate act meriting punishment, and I accept that I have been formally warned in relation to this behavior." She's his wife.” “Is there anything else I need to know before I take her Big Tits home?” I ask. Oh, how I’ve missed you! The scream to leave my throat must have felt good because John moaned immediately afterwards. Summer oohed and scrunched up but it still felt loose to Bobby.