"Formidable" {Pendragon} (MF rom wl)
FORMIDABLE by Uther Pendragon anon584c@nyx.net
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All persons here depicted, except public figures depicted as public figures in the background, are figments of my imagination and any resemblance to persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.
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FORMIDABLE by Uther Pendragon anon584c@nyx.net "It's me," Bob Brennan called over the sound of the radio. As Jeanette was not in sight, she was in the kitchen. "Sorry I'm late, but it was that or go back on campus tomorrow." Instead of the kiss he expected, Jeanette gave him a hushing gesture, finger to her lip.
He washed his hands as quietly as he could, so as not to compete with the voice of the French announcer. After someone else came on, Jeanette clicked off the shortwave. The kiss Bob received might have been belated, but it was enthusiastic. He hugged her with his left arm while caressing her firm butt with his right hand. "Oh Bob!" she said. "I understood it. Directly. Without slowing it down or listening again." That *was* a breakthrough. It definitely called for a celebrative kiss. This time she sank against him while his tongue chased hers. His hand was less caressing than kneading.
She broke the kiss. "Um, aren't you hungry?"
"Desperately; should I pull out the bed?"
"Nope! You should put up the table." Unfolding the legs of the card table and setting it were the two tasks which another person could do to help the cook. The kitchen could hold two people, if they were good friends; but they couldn't do much food preparation. Jeanette loaded their plates in the kitchen and handed them out. Then they were sitting across from each other.
"Do you want to say the grace tonight?" he asked. She hesitated, and he began to say that she didn't have to.
"I really think that I do." They folded their hands. "Heavenly Father, I thank you for the food and what happened to me this morning. Amen."
"Amen," he said, and reached for her hand. He squeezed it for a second, and they started to eat. "Sorry to spring that on you. But somehow it felt appropriate."
"S'okay. But I felt so tongue tied. I did feel grateful though."
"Far as I know, He doesn't grade on eloquence. Anyway, your experience was the high point of the day. And I didn't know enough about it. So remedy my ignorance." He started to make serious inroads on the macaroni and cheese.
"I was listening to the tape at half speed on the MBTA," she started. "When I got off, the bus was right there and so noisy that I couldn't do anything but rewind. Then I walked along listening to the tape again, full-speed that time. I was getting everything, and then I just kept getting everything. Well, lot's of it anyway. So now I can."
"Forr mee dahh ble," he said. "Or will my accent spoil your ear?"
"Your accent isn't *that* bad."
"I love you." Which, after all, was what she was saying with her little white lie.
Half his mind followed her expansion of the report, while half played with the idea of celebration. The weather outside was miserable, so ice-cream cones were out. She enjoyed his elaborate stories, but she would probably rather talk about this tonight. Bed for celebration was rather a cheat, he usually enjoyed it more than she did. On the other hand, he would make sure that she enjoyed it. She came to a pause, what had she said last?
"I really think that it was a breakthrough."
"So do I," he said. "Even though I knew it would come sometime." Her face seemed to fall a little bit. Damn! He'd undercut the accomplishment. "But then, you were the one chopping your way through the tunnel with a pickax. All I did was watch. I knew it would happen because I know my wife. When you put your mind to something, you accomplish it.
"And," he concluded, "I'm proud of your accomplishments, especially proud of this latest one." Then he took his plate to the kitchen for seconds.
The conversation became both more general and more sporadic. He cleared the table and was washing the dishes when she turned the shortwave on again. Sitting at the card table, he took copious notes on *Mohammed and Charlemagne*. He'd read the chapter standing on the MBTA, but it had been too jerky to take any notes. All the while, some part of his subconscious planned the coming night.
Bob often told his friends that the apartment had a small kitchen, but that the living room, dining room, bedroom, and study was good-sized. The time having come to leave the study for the bedroom, he folded up the card table and pulled out the sofa bed.
He prepared for bed and got in on Jeanette's side. Jeanette was slow to take the hint, so he read further into Pirenne. When she did come to bed, however, she took off her robe and slipped under the covers naked. He rolled over into the chilliness to make room.
"Still following it?" he asked.
"Most of it. Sometimes the subject is beyond my vocabulary, but I can catch on when they start on another story. They are all excited about the baptism of Clovis."
It took him a moment to recognize the name with the French pronunciation, but he tried to match it when he responded. "Then you just might want to find a historian and bribe him to tell you about Clovis."
"What sort of bribes would one of your professors take?" she asked.
"Tuition. And you'd have to sit through the whole course, probably taught during your working hours. There might be prerequisites as well. A grad student would come much cheaper."
"Are there any history grad students in this room?" He raised his hand. "What would your price be for a short lecture on Clovis."
"Well, I'd have to prep and give the lecture tomorrow. Give me a sample of your best kiss; I'll tell you how many of those I would charge."
"You're getting predictable. I saw that one coming." She was laughing, though.
At first the kiss was distorted by her smile. It was sexy as hell, even so. She leaned over him supported on her elbow, with one pressing into his left shoulder and the other resting on the center of his chest. Her mouth slanted over his.
She licked his lips, and then played with his tongue for minutes; but she wouldn't follow his tongue between his teeth. She left his mouth to peck on his eyebrows and lick at his ears. He writhed while she licked and her way down his neck and onto his shoulder, but made no move to stop her. She spent minutes on his left nipple, it into a hardness such as he had never experienced, licking it, and then it again. She very hard and lifted her head until it popped out of her mouth.
She continued down the side of his chest, kissing as she went. Where could she be going? Stupid question, there was only one place; and his phallus swelled until it ached. But this was supposed to be her celebration! He couldn't say no; he'd sworn never to refused any erotic advances on her part. Breaking that resolve now would be one hell of a celebration. She stopped kissing at the line of his pubic hair, but she turned sideways and slid further down.
She lay for a moment with the side of her face against his belly and Junior just brushing her other cheek. Just then, his stomach gurgled. She giggled. This might have decreased his excitement if the breath from her giggle hadn't struck his erection.
"Junior," she said, "I know you expect a kiss as well. But Daddy doesn't count that as payment. So we'll have to wait for another time." She turned her head upwards until her lips were against the crown. There was the slightest peck of a kiss, and she slid away.
His virgin bride had come a *long* way in three years, but he'd never known her like this. She'd just given a whole new meaning to the word 'tease.' And she didn't seem to be done yet.
She straddled his left leg, which he raised protectively. Her knee was closer to his scrotum than he really wanted it to be. She settled down over him, pressed into his chest. He felt the hardness at the center of each pressing softness, accepted their testimony of her arousal, pictured them, could remember their taste.
What he tasted now was her tongue as it invaded his mouth. She wasn't being coy this time. It thrust in, dueled with his, licked the roof of his mouth and the bottom of his tongue. When it did withdraw, his followed; she it before invading again.
When he hers in turn, she began to move her torso. That rubbed her softness against his thigh. He could even feel a little dampness. His erection, trapped between their bodies, began to hurt. His hands were compulsively touching everything that they could reach, caressing down her back to her butt and back again.
She broke the kiss to pepper light kisses over his eyebrows, nose, and cheeks. She kissed down his neck to his shoulder and sucked that tendon, moving against his thigh all the while. She sucked on the lobe of his left ear. Then she bit it.
She immediately rolled away, taking the bed clothes with her. He rolled after her, mouth to her luscious breast, hand between her spread legs.
"No Bob," she said pulling the hand away. Before he could begin to be disappointed, she pulled the arm further. "Now, Bob, Now!"
It wasn't what he had planned, but his body wasn't considering that. He climbed between her legs, retrieved his hand to adjust himself, and pressed into her wetness. He barely had time to remove his arm before she arched upwards against him.
The sheets and blankets were a tangle under them, slipping away from his knee when he drove inwards. This was hardly the time to deal with that problem. Her thighs were raised and gripping his, her heels started to beat against the backs of his legs. All his lips could reach in this position was her forehead, so he kissed that. She buried her head in his neck and sucked there. The springs squeaked in time to their movement, but all he could hear from Jeanette was the gasp of her breath.
Her fingernails scratched down his back to his butt. When she clawed him, he drove into her and erupted.
When he came back, his butt was freezing. He was lying on Jeanette with his head just below her breasts, and his feet were sticking eight inches out from the edge of the bed. The mess, which belonged on the lower half of the bottom sheet, was soaking from the top sheet onto the upper edge of the blanket -- and the middle at that. They were going to be sleeping with that aroma for a while.
He cleaned up what he could, including himself and Jeanette; he pulled the bedclothes from underneath her, rolling her when necessary. He remade the bed over her and turned off the light. He crawled in his side of the bed. Her first contribution to the rearrangement was to snuggle back against him.
"Love you," he said. Her response was hardly audible, but she pressed back more firmly and hugged his arm.
- = -
He had to extricate himself from that hug the next morning.
He stared blearily into the mirror while shaving. He had a mark on his shoulder. Jeanette had given him a hickey. Hickey, hell! He could see faint tooth marks. The lobe of his ear was sore, too, though he couldn't see any marks. Also, there was a stinging on his butt.
But he certainly wasn't going to register any complaints. Not only had that been the most arousing night in months, but she had initiated it.
He wished there were something he could do to make her that joyous every day; he might not survive it, but he would die happy.
Of course, she was joyous because of an accomplishment of her own, something -- by definition -- that he could never give her. And they still hadn't had the celebration he had planned. Well, he could make today a little special; she'd celebrate the accomplishment of the day, he the passion of the night as well. Maybe tonight he could deliver some fraction of the sexual pleasure to her that she'd provided him.
He'd eaten and put her coffee on before she finally struggled out of bed. He handed her a cup of coffee while enjoying the sight of her staggering past in the altogether. Morning wasn't Jeanette's best time, but she was still sexy as hell in her skin. He started her breakfast while she was in the bathroom. She accepted another cup on her way to find her robe. Well, he couldn't complain; the room was a bit chilly.
She was sipping the third cup when he put the plate at her place at table. "Thanks," she said. "What's with the eggs?"
"Celebration. One of our members just conquered Gaul. Sorry there wasn't any bacon."
"I know. Terribly expensive. But this means less fancy ramen for the next two weeks. But it was sweet of you." When she dipped the toast into the first yolk, he went to straighten the bed and brush his breakfast off his teeth.
"Bob Brennan!" she shouted from the kitchen. "You had cereal for breakfast."
"Well, it was a celebration of your victory. I couldn't consult the chief cook on how long the supplies had to last and also surprise the honoree. Anyway, it was a tremendous breakthrough. It deserved lobster, let alone eggs. I do think it was the second greatest accomplishment that I've seen you make."
"Second?" she said. "What was the first?" He felt a twinge of guilt; she really didn't get up to speed this soon after waking up. She'd have looked both ways if he had said something like that in the afternoon.
"Seducing me, of course."
"Pffft! I could seduce you with my hands tied behind my back."
"Wanna bet?" This was spiraling away from a celebration in her honor once again, but he couldn't resist an opening like that. He could her with her hands tied behind her back.
"No." And the mood seemed to cool down.
"Well it was your choice of words."
"Anyway," she said, "I remember the seduction going quite the other way."
"You just stood there, your chin thrust forward and fire shooting out of your eyes. The seduction was immediate and total, and you hadn't even noticed me yet."
"I don't think that that counts as seduction. I was fourteen then." But her tone softened; the first days of their friendship meant something special to her. To him, too, of course; but she responded more to the first stages than to the spots in between which he thought were finer.
"Sure it does," he said. "It just took me a few years to reciprocate."
"Sheesh! 'Doctor, you're the one with the dirty pictures.'" He had to dig into memory to connect the punch line to a joke about a who saw sexual content in every Rorschach inkblot. "I tell off a bully before I'd even met you. You use that as an excuse for a nine-year campaign of words and kisses and such to entice me into your bed. And you call that reciprocation."
"Totally unfair."
"How?"
"Well," he explained. "It has been only eight and a half years in all. And I hadn't the goal of enticing you into my bed clearly in mind for the first part of that...."
"How many minutes?"
"Weeks and weeks. I fell in love with your spirit first. Not before the first dance, probably not before the second, was I thinking of bed. Anyway, I stopped trying to entice you into my bed after the wedding."
"Because we used sleeping bags on our honeymoon?"
"Because I was clever enough to set it up so you didn't have any other bed available," he said. "Anyway, I never blamed you for being the sexiest woman in North America. First: I think it's great. Second: you don't try to be; it's just your nature."
She took exaggeratedly high steps back towards her wardrobe. It was her way of miming that the bullshit was getting a little deep. She didn't deny his description of her though; she really couldn't after the previous night. She snapped on the shortwave, and he got dressed.
Over lunch, Bob got a report on the news from Europe. "And have you researched this Clovis business?" Jeanette asked.
"Most of it," he said. "I'll be ready for the lecture as soon as I get my fee."
"How soon he forgets! I would have thought my kiss was worth remembering for at least one day."
"How soon she forgets. I got a *sample*, which is what I asked for. If that kiss is the fee, I'll have to give change. But what you gave me last night was a sample of what the fee would be."
She looked at him, obviously trying to replay the conversation from the night before. "And here I thought that you had chosen a different career, back three years ago."
Well, he wasn't a lawyer, or even a law student. That didn't mean he couldn't be tricky. "I'll tell you what. I'll give the lecture tonight, and you can decide how much fee it deserves."
When the night came, he suggested that she run another tape in the shortwave.
"But I can understand it directly now. I don't have to slow it down; good thing, too -- I was getting to think all Frenchmen spoke in basso profundo."
"But you can't take the radio with you to work," he pointed out. "What this means is that you'll need three times as many tapes as before. Well, less than that, we'll see how many. And you said that some of them your vocabulary. You could put one of those on tape, copy the new words down at half speed, and play it at full speed when you've learned them. If that requires more tape, I'm sure that would send a care package before the summer." Summer, when Bob as well as Jeanette worked, was the season for non-budgeted purchases.
She was just looking at him. "Okay, it's your life, your study. I was just thinking what might help."
"You're cute," she said, "bossy as hell but cute. There's a little squirrel up there spinning the little wheel in his cage all day. I tell you about the breakthrough, and it goes clockwise: 'How can Jeanette use this to learn as much French as possible?' Then it goes the other direction: 'How can I cheat Jeanette out of as many kisses as possible?'"
"But they were *kisses*!" Who kissed whom was mostly a game. He thought that she enjoyed it.
"They were kisses. If I needed to trade chores, you'd never cheat me. But you think up these elaborate schemes to cheat me over something which you get any time for the asking."
Not like last night, he couldn't. But he kept silent.
"And then the squirrel turns around again and whirls his cage with plans to feed me a special breakfast for celebration. I love you, Bob."
"And I love you, too."
"I know you do," she said. His heart lurched at the statement. "And I'm going to call on that love tonight. I don't deserve this; I had my way last night. But could I run two nights in succession?"
"Three sixty five." She would never believe it, but simply that she desired something sexual from him was more erotic than any position that contortionists could devise.
"I wouldn't like that," she said. "I love my gentle husband, and all you other folk; but I love that crazy, busy, squirrel, too. And I don't have your facility -- we wouldn't do anything new. It's just that I *really* want gentleness tonight. And it's unfair...."
"Fairness has nothing to do with marriage. Anyway, fairness would say that Bob has run much more than fifty percent of our bed times. Let's discuss this if the series doesn't stop. Anyway, you're saying that you liked last night." That was incredibly more important. His memory of that ecstasy was marred by the thought that it couldn't have been very good for her.
"More than I could say."
"Then you can have anything you want tonight." He'd left himself wide open with that, but she didn't seem to be in a game-playing mood.
"Then come here." That was no painful task. They ended up in a tight cuddle with the back of his butt just on the middle of the bed, and about eight inches between her knee and the edge.
"Can you give the lecture like this?"
"I had visual aids," he said. Really the map was necessary.
"Bring the Kleenex, too." The nice thing about a sofa-bed was that it came with a fine shelf along the head of the bed. He got his books up there within reach, and the box on its side so the first Kleenex was hanging down.
They settled back into the same position. A little experimentation allowed her to hold the book open to the map while his hand stayed on her breast. He talked softly into the back of her neck, mostly resisting the temptation to kiss it more often than the natural breaks in the allowed.
He described the odd situation of "federates" in the late Roman empire, which could be alternatively -- even simultaneously -- nations invading the Empire and part of the Roman military system. He briefly ran through the Arian/Athanasian and the decision to send the heretics out as missionaries. "So you see," he said, "most of those Germanic federates were disliked for their Arianism as much as for any other reason. Most of the Franks, however, were still pagans."
Then he told the standard of the conquests of Clovis and his conversion to Catholic Christianity. "But all of this is fairly dubious. Our primary source is Gregory of Tours, who came centuries later and wasn't the most careful of chroniclers anyway. The..." He kissed the prominent vertebra where her neck met her spine. "...end!" He kissed there again.
"Well the Pope is coming to celebrate the anniversary of his baptism, and some politicians don't like it. I don't think it is mostly about what actually happened."
"No it wouldn't be," he answered. "Outside academia, inside nine times out of ten, the battle is not about what happened in the past; it's about what the past means."
She took his hand, which had been holding one or the other for most of the lecture, and drew it to her mouth. She slowly kissed each finger, pecking at them rather than them into her mouth. "Do you think that you could make very gentle love to your wife?"
"Bad day?" he asked. It had certainly not seemed so.
She turned so that she was lying on her back beside him. "Lovely day. I don't want it to end."
Well that was fine. Not that he wasn't willing to gentle her over some rough spots in her work life, but he didn't want her to *have* rough spots. Gentling for celebration was much better.
He began by sprinkling kisses over her face. He worked down to her mouth and kissed that closed-lip until it opened by itself. Then their tongues dueled before he broke the kiss to lick her ears and throat. He kissed round and round her far breast in a spiral until he reached the areola. He the nipple once before repeating the performance on the near breast. Then he alternated licks and sucks, right and left, in what he hoped was a random pattern. He kissed the spot where her breasts met while his hand wandered down her belly.
He massaged her mons, pressing hard enough that the pad moved over the bone rather than his hand moving over her hair. While he was doing that, he kissed a slow path up her from the bottom groove to the nipple on top and then sipped at that nipple. He repeated that on the other breast. Her thighs spread a little.
Responding to that silent invitation, he tickled the sensitive flesh on their insides. While doing that, he kissed from one nipple across the valley and up to the other. When her legs had spread enough to make it difficult to tickle them simultaneously, he brought his hand up to clasp her groin. Holding her thus, he kissed up her body towards her mouth. His tongue slipped between one set of lips as his finger slipped between another.
She welcomed both. Her knees raised and spread while her tongue was licking his. As soon as his finger had gathered sufficient moisture, he used it to rub the very edges of her inner labia. That should be gentle enough. He returned to the valley for light strokes before his lips returned to her breast. He played with her nipple with lips, tongue, and suction. He stroked one side of her valley and then the other. He kept his weight off her and listened to her breathing.
When she was breathing shallowly and her abdomen had hardened under his arm, he switched and added a second finger. Now he was harder and licking the nipple less. He brought more moisture up close to her clitoris. When she pressed her hips down into the bed at the top of his strokes, he smiled and released her nipple. He looked into her intent face.
Her frown didn't fool him at all. She was on the road to pleasure. He allowed his fingers to brush over her clitoris, and smiled at her gasp.
"Bob, please," she said. "I want you in me."
He'd been concentrating so completely on maintaining his gentleness that his erection had softened. Her appeal, however, began to restore him. As he moved between her legs, she took him in her hand, hardening him further. When he was in position, she rubbed the head up and down her valley. He was stiff as a ramrod by the time that she placed him and pulled him with her fingers.
Slowly, slowly, he moved inwards. Lushly, warmly, her tunnel clasped him. Deeply embedded, he looked into her eyes.
"I want two more things, Bob," she said. "I want the floor." He nodded, although greatly surprised. This wasn't a family meeting. On the other hand, in the present position he could refuse her nothing.
"I've been happy the last two days because of the French," she began, "but not only that. Oh, you can move." He did, still gently. "Oh yes! Try to keep it slow. Anyway, you came home while I was listening, and I shushed you, and you shushed. You didn't ask why."
He almost explained that Jeanette wanting quiet was the reason why. She'd decided because the broadcast was suddenly comprehensible, and that was a good reason. But he'd decided because she wanted it, and that was -- if anything -- a better reason. But she'd shushed him again, and it was hard to concentrate enough to put that into words.
He was trying to move slowly and not rest too much weight on her, which gave an unusual flavor to their frictions. She was talking in gusts, contracting a bit more tightly around him as the breath rushed out. The sensations were exquisite, but they made concentrating on her speech (to say nothing of controlling his pace) that much more difficult. To bring her along, he began pausing each time he was fully within her; there he shifted back and forth a millimeter, rubbing his groin against hers.
"And this is the same thing, somehow," she continued. "I want something quite special tonight, and you don't ask why -- or even what. You give me the lead because I asked." She would never see that her wanting the lead was, by itself, an incredible turn-on. "I've felt about you like that before, since the track team. Your love somehow supports me; like holding a child up to put ornaments on a Christmas tree. I can do things, can enjoy things, because Bob loves me." He'd missed a transition there, but he did love her; she knew it, and that was what counted.
He moved his hands onto her and looked a question at her. "Oh yes, Bob. I love when you do that." So he caressed the smoothness and played, still gently, with the pink nipples on top. Voices stilled, they let their faces and bodies communicate for them. Her face's message was different from her body's.
Her face expressed warm, calm, love; almost totally divorced from the actions of their bodies. Her hands smoothed over his back and arms, as if to coach him in the gentleness she'd asked. They certainly expressed love, but it could have been love divorced from desire. Her body, on the other hand, was answering his. Not only had she spread her legs to clasp him, delightful as that acceptance was; not only was she warm and wet for him, letting him know of her desire as well as her love; she was now pushing back to meet his thrusts. The motion was still slow and deliberate, but it was clearly mutual.
As his need increased, however, hers seemed to increase as rapidly. The gentle smile on her face turned tense, her touch heavier. Her body firmed under his; her hands darted from one place to another and gripped him where they alit. Her face began to frown, and her eyes focused beyond him. It took obvious effort for her to speak.
"Bob, please. Come first. Let me feel you." He desperately wanted to see her climax, but he'd said that this night was hers to call. He deepened his stroke and changed the angle subtly. Now the nerve bud under the head of his phallus rubbed the floor of her for the entire stroke. His pace evened, speeding only slightly, but no longer pausing. He withdrew until the head passed the lovely constriction at her entrance, and then slid inward again until he was buried completely.
He still watched her face tighten as his own orgasm built up pressure. She was staring at him again, searching his face for something. She snaked her arms under his and scratched over his nipples. Then she caressed down his back, down further. He was conscious of her hands on his hips, the top of his thighs. But mostly he was conscious of the tension building within him, the pressure rolling up from those thighs to his neck. Then, just as the pressure reached the top of his head, and he could feel the seed pouring into his phallus, she pressed a finger joint just back of his scrotum.
He drove into her. "Bob!" she cried. And another "Bob" after each of his pulses. She pressed upwards against him and clutched around him. He was one ecstatic erupting rigidity.
Then he was nothing. His next sensation was her gasps in his ear, as he lay collapsed atop her. He was panting as hard as she was, and too weak to move.
When he finally could, he shifted his weight onto knees and one elbow. That popped him out. He reached the Kleenex box and extracted three tissues. He cleaned himself off, and then the sheet as best he could; she took one tissue for cleaning herself.
When those had been tossed towards the wastebasket, when he'd turned off the light and she'd turned off the radio, when he'd moved to his own side of the bed; then she snuggled back against him. He held her belly for a minute, and she put her hand over his and pressed firmly. He kissed the back of her neck. She pulled his hand to the gap between her and hugged it fiercely. After that hug, she moved it to her breast. They relaxed the little bit that eased them towards sleep.
"Have I been too selfish?" she asked.
"Heavens no. I love when you want something sexual from me."
"Well I often want something sexual from you, sometimes even your ingenious games. It's just that I wanted something particular this time."
"Anytime," he said, "that you want something particular from me, let me know. Anytime.... Well anytime in private."
She chuckled a little at the condition.
"I do love you," he added.
"I know, Bob. That was what I was trying to say. I'm supposed to respond with 'I love you, too.' And that's true. But what's been so evident to me today is your love for me. It surrounds me and cuddles me like your arm."
So he cuddled her as lovingly as he could until they fell asleep.
The End Formidable Uther Pendragon anon584c@nyx.net 2000/01/04 2001/11/18
This is one of a series of about the Brennans.
The next in the series is: taste.txt "Foretaste"
The first in the series is: forever.txt "Forever"
The directory to the entire series is: brennan.txt For a about a different couple in a different relationship, see: susan.txt "Susan"
The directory to all my can be found at: index.txt
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