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The clock strikes twelve as our baby doll retreats to her boudoir, her mind filled with naughty thoughts. She slips into something more comfortable, a lacy number that leaves little to the imagination. Her hands roam, cupping her breasts, teasing her nipples, before descending to her wet, waiting center. She works herself into a frenzy, her body writhing, her breath coming in ragged gasps, until she finds her release, her body shaking with pleasure.