Honey Boo-Boo's mom. Hmmm..... I can just imagine her in a cute, little sheer babydoll nightie, her sagging breasts around her thighs. I push aside those pendulous dugs and see the prize, partly obscured in the folds of her pimpled bellyfat. White crusts of stale sweat outline the seams of her blubber rolls and the dimples of her cottage cheese textured abdominal lards. I part them gently, sensuously and nuzzle her coarsely tufted pubic hair. Wafts of that peculiar, intense vaginal odour only truly obese women enjoy entrance me. I mount her like bold Captain Ahab riding the great white whale..... My purple-headed man-harpoon lost in the massively wide blow-hole behind her ample, dangling meat mittens.
Afterwards she tastes a fine Chardonnay from a special sippy-cup that ensures that she doesn't dribble a little vintage from her oversized, bulky lips and she discusses Picasso and Mozart while we recline on her doritos-strewn rec room throw rug.
