Backstage with Tiffany Doll

Tiffany Doll waits until the door clicks shut. The second her husband is gone she reaches for the phone and invites her lover over. He arrives ready. In the living room they peel off clothes, her long brown hair brushing his thighs as she sinks to her knees. She takes him deep, lips stretched tight, saliva glistening on every stroke. He lifts her onto the couch and pushes inside, her small frame rocking beneath him, soft moans rising as his hips slap her skin. They move from couch to floor, skin flushed and slick. Just as she reaches another trembling peak, a floorboard creaks. They freeze. Footsteps. The husband is back.