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As the clock strikes midnight on November 30th, the fairy's resolve weakens. Their eyes, heavy with lust, fixate on their reflection in the mirror, the neon hair a stark contrast to their flushed, desperate face. They spit on their palm, the saliva slicking their length, and begin to stroke in earnest. The room fills with the sound of wet flesh slapping against flesh, their hips bucking as they chase their release. Their body tenses, their cock throbbing, and with a guttural moan, they finally succumb, their hot, sticky cum painting the mirror in ropes, a testament to their failure and relief.