Barbie is a plastic whore. We all had her and her ‘husband’, Ken, while we were growing up. In spite of the fact that neither Barbie nor Ken had anatomically correct body parts (they seem to be distinctly missing their genitalia and poor Ken had plastic underwear molded to his body that he could never remove), they still managed to be fairly sexualized. At least they were for me. My friend Robbie used to make them do it when we played in my parents’ basement. The thing is, since Ken didn’t have anything he could actually stick inside Barbie, they had to do it the way Lesbians do it. They had to scissor. So Barbie and Ken scissored the crap out of each other and when I was nine, that was just about the hottest thing I’d ever witnessed. Eventually Robbie convinced me that we should scissor too and I was totally into it except I told him he wasn’t allowed to take his underwear off because Ken couldn’t take his underwear off so that must be part of the rule of scissoring. Robbie agreed but his hard-on became obvious fairly quickly anyway, so we stopped and kind of stared awkwardly at each other and then without a word we started watching an episode of The Simpsons.
When I was seven our neighbor had a garage sale. She was selling an old home made doll house which would be perfect for all of my and my sister’s Barbies. So I convinced my parents to give me my allowance three days early and I ran down the street and proudly handed over the three dollars the woman was selling the dollhouse for and dragged it home in my little red wagon. The house had real carpet glued onto the bedroom floors and it came with this pink plastic bathtub that you could fill with actual water and put bubbles in and everything. It was much cooler than Barbie’s actual dream house, which was being advertised on TV at the time. I brought it home and my Barbies had all kinds of scissoring with each other and with my Kens and the Kens scissoring each other too cause they all had on that ridiculous plastic underwear.
I think Barbies can teach kids a lot about sex. The only thing they can’t teach them is what an actual woman and an actual man look like naked.
1. I love my Barbie. She may be a plastic whore but she’s the perfect size to shove up my twat when I’m feeling lonely. I suppose the only downside is that sometimes her head pops off and gets stuck up in my va jay jay.
2. That chick looks like Barbie. Blonde, huge tits, the whole works. I’d love to get with a whore like that. If only she wasn’t my best friend’s girlfriend. I suppose I could always go for her mom. She looks exactly the same, just a little bit on the leathery side.
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