Animal Mother - (Futa/F, bimbo, pregnancy, excessive cum, incest)

Story by eccentricman

Here's another piece of weirdness from my brain. There are several odd fetishes in there and, I hope, a slightly warmer tone than most of my stories.

The looks were what did it.

They were the usual sort of sneering, lip-curling, contemptuous looks of disgust and annoyance that Barbie always got when she was in a new town. She wasn't wearing a lot - which made people twitchy - but they didn't realise that she was making a huge effort in wearing anything all. It was always the same though, and she supposed she got by well enough, but it was one of the two things she'd inherited from her dad.

The other thing from her dad was slowly engorging, emitting pheromones as the reflected disapproval stoked her libido - and that libido came straight from her mom; a mother that had a reputation as a depraved, base, animalistic slut. A well deserved reputation. And the proverbial apple hadn't fallen very far from the wanton tree.

But Barbie was her own woman. Where her mother was lush and sensual and inviting and sultry, Barbie was a thoroughbred: tall, strong and blazing hot, with a kind of perky bubble-butt gym-addict glamour that was supplemented by all the tricks of a modern bimbo. Huge fake tits. Pumped up pouting lips. Long nails, glossy and bright. Long black hair tied back. Thorough depilation. The makeup.

And none of it was for men. It didn't need to be. But it reminded people just what kind of girl they were... well, it was Barbie's way of saying 'fuck you' without words.

The soccer mom blonde queued up in front of her sniffed the air and stiffened a little; Barbie could see her fight the urge to look behind her and check out what was making that scent. The woman new Barbie was there - had made her displeasure obvious when Barbie had walked in. That had earned the woman a bump in the back from Barbie's twin beach balls. There had been the gasps, and the frosty look Barbie had gotten back in return spoke very clearly of "queen bee" status, real or imagined, in the community.

The barista called the blonde forward with a warm, even slightly obsequious smile. Barbie stepped forward with her, so that when the woman reached into her purse, her hand brushed into Barbie's huge, cantilevered chest, nearly whipping off the string bikini that barely covered Barbie's straining nipples.

The soccer mom looked disgusted, shocked even, and the barista simply pursed her lips and looked away in disapproval, but Barbie just watched and waited - her arousal was growing, pressing against the front of her tiny skirt. She watched as, after paying, the blonde absently brought the hand that had touched Barbie up to her nose and inhaled deeply.

When the blonde shot Barbie another look it was less hostile, the pupils wider... needier.

Barbie waited for her to be served and then ordered her own drink, before carefully dropping her handbag over her crotch and retrieving her drink to find a place to sit down.

She was flicking through her phone when the light changed and she knew the dance had started. By now several other women were looking at her too, her scent doing its thing, and most of the men were gone, or going.

It was the blonde.