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Twas the night before Winter’s Veil, and all through the mound, not an ogre was burping, not making a sound. The meats were all hung by the cooking pits with clumsy, hoping Greatfather Winter would not consider decor all quite ugly. Yet far in the back, one ogre fell in surprised from where he stood, as the “Elf On A Dick” inserted him, as deep as she could. “Good boys get presents!” the elf said with a moan, “But naughty boys are better, because they get to bone!” The ogre laughed his agreement as he started to buck, his ridiculous manhood forced deeper, “Oh fuck! fuck… FUCK!”
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