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Mrs Elys Travesty #8

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"...Carl..."
Her lips mouthed his name but only a strange, strangled moan came out, no louder than the dripping of the water off the plate she still held.
Last Christmas he'd dressed up as Santa to put some presents beside the girls' beds, but the dressing up had been pointless, they'd been fast asleep. Later, in the lounge, she'd donned the outfit: Carl, looking silly in pants and socks, said she looked like a super sexy Santa: one thing led to another and they'd made love in front of the Christmas tree.
The Christmas tree was long gone.
"Oh Carl..."

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