Barbie Gets Kinky
Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32
“Barbie Gets Kinky”
by J.D. Savanyu
Barbie Roberts sunbathed in a $500 pink string bikini behind her Malibu dream house. Watching the ocean waves gently caressing her private beach, and getting real horny. That blonde bombshell was the highest-paid fashion model in the world, with her own magazine, her own perfume, her own private jet, and more money than she knew what to do with. She also had more male groupies than she knew what to do with; banging hundreds and hundred of them all around the world. But her heart belonged to only one man: Ken Carson. That dashing blonde superstar quarterback was twelve miles away at the Los Angeles football stadium, taking practice snaps, running through obstacle courses, diagramming trick plays with X’s and O’s, and looking forward to fucking the shit out of his trophy wife.
Barbie had thousands of designer clothes in twenty dressers and nine walk-in closets. But there was still one kind of “outfit” she didn’t own. A kinky sex doll outfit. She was the very definition of “vanilla,” idolized by millions of other “vanilla” girls, so of course she never tried any kind of BDSM. But she was feeling extra bored and extra naughty today, so she decided to cross over to the “dark side.” Embracing her fate as a submissive girl-toy, and proving her love to Ken by letting him demean her. Letting him treat her like an all-star quarterback, getting blitzed and sacked hard by a hulking linebacker.
Barbie strolled into her giant art-deco dream house that was built for a notorious 1920’s bootlegging gangster. She sat down in front of a computer screen and searched for kinky bondage harnesses. A dozen sponsored leathery get-ups appeared at the top of the screen. Her big blue eyes gravitated toward a skimpy dark brown number on kinkykitten.com, consisting of a leather dog collar with a metal loop in front and seven vertical and seven horizontal straps trailing downward to the sexy hips of the brunette model, leaving her tits and pussy open for business. Four narrow chains made a U-shape over her lower rib cage, adding a nice punky touch. The harness also came with two leather wrists straps with metal loops attached, and a metal clasping hook for a dominator/domme to attach to the fifth horizontal strap around her waist for bondage fun. It was just as eye-catching as the sparkly butterfly fairy gown that Barbie wore last week during a fashion show in Milan, so she had to have it.
She gave Kinky Kitten the number merter escort of her platinum card, selected the same-day rush delivery option, clicked the “Finalize Order” button, and sank bank in the leather office chair with a rush of perverted arousal, picturing the look on Ken’s face when he got home from football practice and saw his trophy wife’s little “surprise.” Her pussy throbbed with intense desire while picturing him tying her up to the bedposts, whipping her heart-shaped ass, and fucking her dripping wet pussy like hell. She took off her Dolce surrendering herself completely to her soulmate after living too long in a fabulous bubble in the glamor capital of the world. Filling in the emotional void that was steadily growing over the past decade, ever since she sold her soul to the golden calf of fame. She lost count at twelve lashes. The buzzing pain on her pussy and tits turned into pure electricity. Desperate for kinetic reality in a life full of static vanity.
“I’m gonna fuck those big boobies, bitch. And there’s not a damn thing you can do to stop me.”
He straddled her chest, squeezed her perky d-cups around his nine-inch prick, and titty-fucked her like hell.
“Fuck yeah,
3. Squeeze those titties like squishy footballs. I can’t get enough of your big fucking dick!”
“That’s not the only dick you love, you fucking skank. I know you’ve been cheating on me with all those fanboys and bisexual ‘fashionistas.'”
“And I know you’ve been cheating on me with all those airhead cheerleaders.”
“I love playing with party girls, but you’re the only one I own.”
He slapped her tits ten more times apiece, turning them even redder. This obviously wasn’t the first time he’d gone to the “dark side.” He’d obviously been getting kinky with various slutty cheerleaders, but he was too afraid to try it with his “vanilla” wife.
“I ain’t vanilla no more, baby. Barbie loves getting kinky!”
“I’m tired of hearing your big spoiled mouth. I better shove my cock down your throat.”
He shuffled toward her face and did just that. Face-fucking that blonde bombshell even faster while holding the metal bars right above her hands. She formed a tight seal with her full red lips, groaning loudly on his man-meat to enhance his pleasure. She always gave him exactly what he wanted, because that was exactly what she wanted. Ken was the only straight line in her confusing curvaceous life.
“I know you wanna taste ortaköy escort my cum, you dirty blonde.”
“Mmm-hmm!” she growled with a mouthful.
“Not yet, Dolly. I’m not done playing kinky games with my high-fashion floozy.”
He pulled his dick out of her mouth and untied her wrists and ankles from the metal bars. Then he grabbed the leather harness straps around her chest and yanked her right off the bed with his strong muscles.
“I noticed that your little leather outfit has a built-in bondage device. Real handy. You can’t get enough accessories, can ya?”
Barbie giggled sweetly, and Ken hooked her wrist straps up to the waist strap with the metal spring hook, leaving his trophy wife defenseless once again. He shoved her torso down against a mahogany dresser in front of a picture window with a great view of the Pacific sunset. The impact was cushioned by a pile of overpriced lingerie.
“Damn, you got an ass worth killing for. It’d be a shame if I didn’t spank those hot cheeks.”
Ken went over to a walk-in closet and retrieved the sky-blue Dior latex jumpsuit that she wore six months ago during a London riverboat photoshoot with Naomi Campbell for Vogue UK.
“Time to step up my game, Kinky Barbie. I’ll give you more latex than Vandelay Industries.”
He swung that shiny jumpsuit nice and hard, striking her outstretched ass with a loud rubbery thock! The thick nonporous material hurt significantly more than that light leather belt.
“Fuck yeah! Whoop my naughty ass, daddy!”
“Call me master, bitch!” he barked out, and whipped it again.
“Yes, master! Turn that ass fucking red! Make me a model of obedience.”
He gladly obeyed her order, thocking her heart-shaped derriere with reckless abandon. Submitting to his pain just like she submitted to thousands of flashbulbs from heartless paparazzi. The pain focused her wildly wavering mind on a single point.
“Stop running those trick plays, Tom Brady 2.0.! Just shove that big dick up my end zone, and score a fucking touchdown!”
“Good idea, coach,” he chortled. “This game is already a blowout, but I’m trying to break Peyton Manning’s record.”
He tossed the jumpsuit aside, grabbed her sharply indented love handles, and crouched down in his usual QB pocket formation.
“White 80! White 80! Omaha, Fargo, Walla-Walla…”
“Hut-hut!” Barbie shouted back. Ken snapped the “football” by smacking her butt, then he slammed his cock otele gelen escort up her pussy and fucked her aggressively in the doggy-style position. Pounding his toned hips against her toned glutes and rattling that mahogany dresser against the wall, as Barbie gazed out at the gently rolling waves on cloud nine.
“That’s it, baby, keep fucking me hard. Prove how much you love me.”
He spanked her ass over and over with his bare hands while fucking her brains out. She kept moaning and groaning with equal ferocity. He grabbed her long blonde hair and yanked her head up toward the ceiling.
“Call me your Malibu mack daddy, bitch!”
“You’re my Malibu mack daddy, master!”
He fucked her even harder, smacking her ass a few more times.
“Please cum on my face, mack daddy. Your little dolly girl needs a sweet treat.”
Ken laughed under his breath while huffing and puffing in heavy exertion. Thirty seconds later, he grabbed two of the leather straps on her bondage harness and literally swept her off her feet, plopping her down on her knees on the purple shag carpeting and jacking off real fast at point-blank range.
“Call me the best quarterback in the world,” Ken grunted. Barbie giggled sweetly and tossed her golden bangs.
“You’re the best quarterback in the world, Kenny-boy!”
“Fucking right! Oh shit, oh shit, oooooooaaaaaAAAAAHHH!”
Barbie opened her mouth wide to taste her husband’s epic money shot. That hot creamy jizz felt so good on her soft tanned skin. She wished her wrists weren’t tied to her waist, so she could finger it into her mouth and savor the bitter manly taste. Ken staggered backward and leaned against a bedpost in utter bliss. Barbie rose slowly to her feet and turned around, waggling her sexy hips from side to side.
“Set me free, my soulmate,” she giggled.
“Yes ma’am.”
He unhooked her wrist straps from the waist strap, and she cleaned off her face with her fingers while moaning pleasantly. She swallowed it all down, then she wrapped her slender supermodel arms around his ripped chest and kissed him tenderly.
“Not bad for a first time, eh Barbie?”
“Oh my god. That got crazy in a hurry.”
“I just went with the kinky flow.”
“I want to get a lot more crazy with you, Kenny-boy.”
“Me too, Barbie-girl.”
“But I only want to get crazy with you. No more cheating.”
“Okay, fine. I won’t do any more cheating either.
“You can touch, and you can play, if you say I’m always yours.”
“I’m always yours, baby.”
Ken and Barbie went to the picture window on the second floor of their dream house, and gazed pensively at the endless watery horizon.
“The world is our oyster, Barbie. Our future’s so bright, we have to wear shades.”
Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32