The answer, by the way, was “Yes,” but I already knew that because 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, but she evidently had a real thing for her Barbie dolls growing up and collected almost every Ken & Barbie set Mattel ever japanese made. doggy style 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 amateur when he gave them to me and said, “This dosage would probably turn most people dark brown, but riding 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 MILF 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. Mom also insisted that I have permanent eyeliner tattooed below my eyes and on my eyelids. She didn’t go to a doctor for that and begging would have done no good. The man who did it told me to quiet down or he would tattoo SLUT right across the middle of my forehead. The in-house server and all of the equipment were now part of the melted slag on the lot where a group of back hoes were removing it. I stirred my cunt around him. “I don’t want to speak to you ever again.” May said softly, the first thing she said in a while. It too was now coated in the cum from the 3 of us. “I wanted to ask you, Robin, about this red light I have seen in the spare room. If there's anything to report back, I'll let you know. “Okay ladies; get ‘em off. When Ryan opened it he found 3 tickets to the Star Trek convention. “Hey you have to stop japanese complimenting me or else I’m gonna get distracted,” Mrs. Fattorusso warned. “Wanna MILF dance?” The redhead asks. amateur Do not proceed unless you were a fan of such stories like Seed of Horror and the Man of doggy style Sin. Let’s go in here” which was a jewelry store. Our universe, like our riding planet, has the goldilocks conditions. “I’m not your personal plaything, Phil.