The Doll

Antoine Jefferson turned the sign around. The Folly was closed for another night. His wife, Kelly, was seated on the bar itself, spreading her legs wide in invitation to her husband.

"You saucy minx," Antoine said, chuckling. "Can't even keep your skirt on."

"No," Kelly said huskily. "Never could around you."

He laid her back onto the wooden bar, first tugging off her panties and tugging her skirt up high on her waist. He licked her from her asshole to her clit, taking his time, adoring the taste of every inch of this blonde bimbo.

For that was what she was -- a sex doll, with big fake tits, perfect blonde hair, vacuous blue eyes, and a cunt that hugged his cock just right. She wasn't a woman of substance -- she wasn't Elizabeth. But she was what he had now.