Bier Barbie

Barbie was upset. For the first time since Molly had unwrapped her on Christmas morning all those years ago, she had been left alone. Though Molly had turned 18, she still always dressed her Barbie Doll in one of her many nightgowns and placed her in the pink, four-poster in her Dream House before she went to bed each night. But this night, Barbie was alone and scared. Molly had taken her to her friend Andrea's house, and when Molly went home to dinner, Barbie had been left behind.

Now Barbie waited on the couch in the den of a strange, dark house. All of the family had gone to bed, even Andrea's obnoxious brother, Skip. Barbie was dressed in black, Capri pants and a pink, cashmere sweater. They had been playing "record party" with Andrea's new Beatles single. Her slender ankles were cold. The quiet house was spooky and smelled of Dogs. Dogs, which chew off feet and bury things in yards.

But suddenly the quiet of the house was disturbed by a low rumbling sound. It grew louder as it came down the hall towards the den. Barbie was about to crawl under the cushions when around the corner came a doll on a motorcycle. The biker doll roared up to the couch and kicked down the stand of the sleek, growling machine between her legs. She was wearing black leather chaps over cut-off jeans. She had a white T-shirt tied under her big, jutting breasts. She swung her leg over the handlebars, pulled off her helmet and shook out her long, black hair. She took a leather cap from her back pocket and slapped it on her head. She swaggered up to the edge of the couch where Barbie cowered and said, "Hiya, Toots."

Barbie squeaked out a "Hello" as her eyes grew wide in amazement. The doll on the bike looked just like her! Except for the black hair, they could have been twins.

"My name's Biker Barbie. What's yours?"

"Barbie. Just Barbie."

"Well, Just Barbie, wanna go for a ride?"

"I...I don't know."

"What's the matter, Toots? Ya look like ya seen a ghost."

"You...you look just like me! And your name is Barbie!"

"Ain't ya figgered it out yet, Honey? We're all named Barbie. And we all look alike, 'cept for our duds."

"I've never seen another Barbie."

"Well, ain't you the little princess. C'mon, Toots. Lets ride!"

Biker Barbie got back on her hog and kicked it to life. Barbie climbed off the sofa and got on the bike behind her. She tentatively grabbed Biker Barbie's shoulders. The leather girl laughed. She grabbed Barbie's wrists and pulled her hands around to her chest. She slapped Barbie's hands over her big boobs and said, "Ya gotta hold on tight if yer gonna ride with me. Squeeze hard, Honey. I dig it."

Barbie did a she was told. Biker Barbie's firm breasts filled her tiny hands. She felt a tingle between her legs. The vibration of the motor, she told herself. The bike jumped forward and Barbie clutched at the rider, her sweater-clad breasts pressing into her back. The insides of her thighs clamped against Biker Barbie's ass. Together, they zoomed around the house.

Barbie quickly learned to lean into the turns, feeling Biker Barbie's muscled back as it moved. Soon, they were riding as one and Barbie was beginning to really enjoy the feel of another body against hers, a body so like her own. But when they raced past a dog dish, Barbie let out a squeak. Biker Barbie laughed, "Don't worry, Princess. Fido's out for the night."

Maybe it was the thrill of fright. Maybe it was the vibration of the leather seat against her ass. Maybe, just maybe, it was the feel of another doll's breasts in her hands, but Barbie felt herself grow hot between her thighs. She rocked her pelvis forward and ground herself into Biker Barbie's tailbone. The Biker took one hand off the handlebars and reached back to grip Barbie's ass. She gave it a hard squeeze. Then she cut the bike down the dark alley behind the stove.

It was dark and smelly. Bits of trash and empty matchbooks littered the ground. Something skittered under the baseboard. Biker Barbie stopped the motorcycle and booted down the stand. Barbie got off and leaned against the wall in a swoon. Biker Barbie strode up to her and grabbed her tit in a strong hand. She clamped her mouth over Barbie's and kissed her hard. Her knee forced its way between Barbie's thighs and ground into her center. Barbie felt herself go wild with want. She grabbed the biker girl's ass with both hands. She sought the thin gap between denim and leather and dug her painted nails into firm, bare flesh. Biker Barbie pulled back and tugged Barbie's sweater up to her neck. She began to kiss and lick the exposed breasts.

"God damn, I wish we had nipples."

Barbie didn't understand, but she didn't care. She was lost in sensation, riding lustful abandon.

Biker Barbie's free hand slid down the front of Barbie's pants. She cupped her between her thighs, right on her Mattel. Barbie felt a strange tremor build within her. She felt hollow and filled at the same time. It was like the rush of fear she felt when Molly would toss her high into the air. But this was not fear. She welcomed it. She wanted it. She willed it to grow stronger and it did. Her body began to quiver and she felt a flush of heat in her face and between her plastic thighs. Then, like the popping of a cork, she exploded into orgasm. She shook, she swayed, then she fell into Biker Barbie's arms. The rough stranger held her tight.

"Oh, Honey. The first one's a trip, ain't it?"

"I think...I think I'm in love with you, Biker Barbie."

"Course ya are, Toots. I'm the best."

"Can we...can we do it again?"

"Sure we can, Chickie. Much as ya want. "

"I want."

"Oh, baby. I think yer gonna like it on the wild side."

"I think I might."

"Then come on. I wanna introduce ya to a friend of mine. Name's G.I. Joe. I think you'll like him. He's got Kung Fu Grip."

The two Barbies roared off into the wicked night.