Hot Summer Nights - Cover

Hot Summer Nights

Copyright © 2002 by Nick Scipio

Chapter 25

Coming of Age Sex Story: Chapter 25 - Paul's summer camp experiences have taught him many things. He used to be excited and nervous, but now he's grown into a respectful young man, and women find him irresistible. The days and nights of fun with Susan and her friends satisfy a lot of needs, but what's happening with Gina is different. As the big L-word enters the picture, Paul has to decide if this is a summer fling or if he and Gina have a future together.

Caution: This Coming of Age Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including mt/ft   mt/Fa   Mult   Teenagers   Consensual   BiSexual   Fiction   Historical   Sharing   Incest   Mother   Son   Group Sex   Orgy   Swinging   Anal Sex   Exhibitionism   Masturbation   Oral Sex   Voyeurism   Nudism  

That night, after getting angry with Stacy and then running headlong into Kendall, I lay awake for a long time. My erection had finally died, untouched, and I simply stared at the ceiling, thinking. Erin had come to bed and not given me a second glance. When Mom came back to the cabin, she went to the bathroom, and then straight to bed. I was alone with my thoughts.

I felt twinges of guilt, mixed with satisfaction, when I thought about the harsh words I’d flung at Stacy. But I had a nagging feeling that I was angry about the fact that I did want to have sex with Kendall; more so than at Stacy for not taking no for an answer. Perhaps worse than even that, however, was the fact that I suspected that Kendall had overheard enough of my outburst that she’d never want to speak to me again. Especially after how she reacted when I’d almost knocked her over, and she’d come face to face with my jutting erection.

My thoughts turned back to Stacy and I felt my stomach lurch. I wasn’t some machine that she could turn on and off just by grabbing my dick. I wasn’t some guy who just wanted to stick his dick wherever he could. I didn’t feel guilty about what I’d said to her, but I was tremendously ashamed of how I’d said it. I knew how I’d feel if she treated me like that, and I had to blink back tears at the thought.

I’d managed to make a fine mess of things, I thought to myself as sleep finally crept over me.


The next morning, Mom shook me and I blinked, trying to wake up. Why was it so bright in the cabin? I sat up and looked at her through bleary eyes.

“Hey, sleepyhead. You had a rough night.”

I felt like I’d been run over by a truck. As my eyes slowly cleared, I realized why the cabin was so bright; from the angle of the sun, it looked like it was closer to noon than dawn. Actually, several hours closer.

“What time is it?” I asked, yawning.

“It’s almost eleven.”

“Why’d you let me sleep so late?”

“Because you needed it. You were tossing and turning when I got up to check on you.”

“When you got up to check on me?”

Her face softened and she smoothed my hair back like she had when I was a boy. “You cried out in your sleep. You were having nightmares.”

Whatever it was, I didn’t remember it. Thankfully.

I slowly climbed down the ladder and shuffled toward the bathroom without saying a word. I turned the shower on full cold and stepped into it. I hoped it would help me wake up, and as soon as the icy needle spray hit my skin, my eyes snapped open. I quickly decided that I wasn’t up to the cold water and reached for the spigot to turn the temperature up.

Usually, I woke up fairly easily. Usually, I thought to myself ruefully, I got a few good hours of sleep. I stood under the water and let it batter me awake. Finally, I reached for the shampoo and started my shower routine. By the time I turned the water off, I was more awake, but I still felt like a truck had run over me. I brushed my teeth and combed my hair and opened the bathroom door.

To my surprise, Mom was waiting for me, sitting on the couch reading her book. She looked up and smiled gently when I stepped into the room.

“Feeling better?”

I nodded. I didn’t feel human, but at least I was aware of my surroundings.

“C’mon then,” she said with more cheer than I felt. “I’ll fix you brunch.”

She set her book on the dresser, linked her arm through my own, and gently guided me toward the door. Walking down to the clubhouse, I began to feel better as I breathed in the fresh pine forest air and got my blood moving.

Mom fixed me a couple of PB&J sandwiches with a big glass of milk. I wolfed down the food in record time and finally began to feel better.

“Have you talked to Susan today?” I asked over the crumbs of my sandwiches.

“Yes. Why do you ask?”

“No reason,” I lied. I was wondering if Mom had heard about my blowup with Stacy. But she kept her expression neutral and my fishing expedition came up empty.

“Is there something you wanted to talk about?” she asked.

“No. Not really,” I lied again.

What I wanted to do was crawl under a rock so I’d never have to see Stacy or Kendall again. I was mortified at the thought of having to face them. I knew Stacy would probably hate me. And worse, Kendall had gotten more than an eyeful the night before and would probably never want to speak to me again. “Morose” might not be a strong enough word to describe my mood.

Mom gave me a funny look and then looked like she was about to say something. I guess she changed her mind, because she only smiled at me and began picking up my dishes.

“Thanks for the sandwiches, Mom.”

“You’re welcome, honey.”

I nodded decisively and stood up. Mom stood as well, dishes in hand, and without a word, I turned to go. My mind was already wondering where I could hide for the rest of the day. Reluctantly, I decided that I couldn’t, and my second option was to find Susan. If anyone could help me fix things, it would be her.


I ambled toward Susan’s house, fervently hoping that ... Well, I didn’t know what I wanted.

When I rounded the corner and entered her courtyard, I pulled up short. Susan, sitting at the wrought-iron table, looked up at the sound of my footsteps and folded her newspaper. She smiled gently and set it on the table.

“Hi,” she said simply.

I hung my head. I could see the sympathy in her eyes. “Hi,” I said glumly.

“Have a seat.”

I looked up at her and she smiled again, nodding firmly. I pulled out the chair and sat heavily, slouching and hanging my head.

I don’t know how long we sat in silence, but I realized that she was going to let me bring it up first. Stacy was like an unseen third party, hanging heavily in the air between us. I wanted Susan to say something, to tell me what to do, anything. Every time I looked at her, hoping she’d speak, she simply returned my gaze, her face open and caring. Finally, I broke.

“Does she hate me?” I asked gloomily.

“She was pretty upset.”

I looked up and suddenly had to blink back tears.

“Why don’t you tell me what happened?”

I told her everything. I even told her about almost running Kendall over, and how I’d been ashamed that I had been thinking about having sex with her.

“Ahhhh,” Susan said cryptically. “That explains that.”

I looked at her questioningly, my eyes stinging, and resisted the urge to sniffle.

“Kendall stopped by earlier. She asked if I’d seen you.”

“She probably doesn’t want to talk to me ever again, and wanted to make sure she could avoid me,” I said sullenly.

“She did seem pretty upset.”

I rolled my eyes hopelessly.

Susan chuckled richly and I gave her a betrayed look. Her eyes twinkling compassionately, she quieted quickly. “You don’t understand,” she said gently. “She was almost frantic when I told her I didn’t know where you were.”

“Frantic?”

She nodded seriously. “I guess she thought you might be avoiding her.”

“I thought she’d be avoiding me!”

Susan chuckled again and I wanted to slink away. Why did everything have to make sense to everyone else?

“I told her that when I saw you, I’d tell you she was looking for you,” Susan said reassuringly.

“Great,” I mumbled under my breath. “Another problem that I don’t know the answer to.”

Unfortunately, Susan had the hearing that comes with being a mother. “It’s not all that bad. The first problem,” she said, indicating the house with a toss of her chin, “isn’t all that hard.” She paused for a moment to reconsider. “Well, it is and it isn’t.”

My brow furrowed in confusion.

“Stacy was pretty upset last night when she came back. She was sobbing when she came in, and she wouldn’t tell us what the problem was.”

Us? So Mom had known something had happened!

“She started packing her things and wanted to leave last night. I wouldn’t tell her the combination to the gate until she calmed down and told me what was the matter.”

I grimaced.

“Yes,” Susan said, “she was that upset.”

I hung my head, wishing I could take it all back.

“When she finally calmed down and told us what had happened, she still wanted to leave. Your mom and I talked her out of it, but I don’t think she’s real happy about being here.”

“But what about me?” I asked plaintively. “I mean, am I just supposed to provide a hard dick whenever she wants? What if I don’t feel like it?”

“Well, you were right. But here’s where it gets complicated,” she said. “What you said and how you said it are two different things.”

I knew as much myself, and had lain awake a good portion of the night, thinking about just that.

“You were right about what you said.” She then laughed ruefully, and I looked up at her in shocked dismay. She quickly made a soothing gesture with her hands. “You experienced something last night that many women—too many women—experience all the time. And your feelings aren’t any different because you’re a man.”

I looked at her in confusion.

“Sometimes, you’re going to be in the mood, and your partner isn’t. And if you try to force things ... Well ... You know, from firsthand experience, how it feels to be treated like an object.” She leaned forward in her chair and got very serious. “I want you to remember how it felt last night, how mad it made you. Do you remember?”

I felt my face and ears heating up just thinking about it. I swallowed to moisten my suddenly dry mouth and nodded tersely.

“You don’t ever, ever want to make a woman feel like that. You may get what you want, but it won’t be worth having.” She leaned back in her chair to let that sink in. “Do you understand?” she asked after several long moments had passed.

I looked her in the eye and slowly nodded. She stared at me for a few moments, measuring my response, and then nodded decisively.

“Everything else,” she said almost dismissively, “is easily fixed.”

My eyes widened at her offhand manner and she smiled.

“Your mom, Stacy, and I had a big talk last night, and she understands that what she did is wrong. She feels really bad about it. But she’s also very upset at how you treated her, and she’s got a right to be upset.”

I stared at her, goggle-eyed, and she nodded.

“You need to apologize to her for the way you spoke to her,” she said evenly.

My jaw dropped. I needed to apologize?!

“Calm down,” Susan said, her tone full of an authority I’d never heard her use before. “You need to apologize for how you said things,” she continued, her voice softening, “not for what you said. Do you understand the difference?”

I thought about it for a moment and it began to make sense. I swallowed and nodded.

“I think you’ll find that Stacy feels just as bad as you do, and she’s got some things she needs to say to you. Now, she’s inside, in her room. You should go talk to her,” she said reasonably.

With a great deal of trepidation, I stood and headed for the door to the house.


I knocked on the door to Kirk’s room and got no reply. When I knocked again, I heard Stacy’s muffled voice, and in a moment, the door opened.

We stared at each other for several long, uncomfortable moments, her expression unreadable. Without speaking, she turned and walked back to the bed. She didn’t slam the door in my face, so I took that as a good sign. I hesitantly took a step into the room and watched her walk the rest of the way to the bed. She was wearing her thin white robe, which didn’t hide the fact that she was nude underneath, and I felt myself react at the sight of her body.

When she sat down and still didn’t say anything, I started to get mad. I’d come here to apologize, but she wasn’t the only injured party. She sat stiffly and stared at me with eyes puffy from crying. I got the feeling from her body language that she was waiting to hear my apology and not looking to offer one of her own as well.

If that was the way she was going to be, I wasn’t going to play her game. I may have said things harshly, but what I’d said was true. I wasn’t an object. And I didn’t want to be treated like one, no matter how much it hurt her to hear me say it. My face hardened and without a word, I turned to go.

I had just reached the door, when a heart-rending sob from behind me stayed my step. I stood for a moment, poised in the doorway, one hand on the door jamb, listening. I half-turned and looked over my shoulder.

Stacy had pulled her knees up and was hugging them to her chest, rocking back and forth as she sobbed. Her short robe did nothing to hide her shaved pussy, but I noted that only absently. She looked so pathetic and alone that I felt a cold knife twist in my heart.

I turned back into the room and watched her for a moment. Sobs wracked her slender body and I felt my resolve begin to crumble. I took one tentative step toward her, then another, then another. With each step, my stride became more purposeful, until I reached her side. She was so lost in her anguish that she didn’t hear me come up beside her.

I reached out to her and hesitated, pulling back before I touched her. I was frozen in place, my anger warring with my compassion. Finally, I broke the deadlock and reached out to her again. My hand fell on the smooth fabric covering her heaving shoulder. She recoiled as if slapped and in a fit of pique, I almost turned to go.

Then she reached out and wrapped her arms around my waist and held on for dear life. Her tear-streaked face was pressed against my abdomen and I comforted her the only way I could; I kept my hand on her shoulder and brushed her soft, curly hair with the other. I let her vent her frustration and grief, and held her like that for a long time.


Finally, her wracking sobs quieted, and her breathing settled to normal—punctuated by an occasional shuddering sigh—and I felt her relax.

“I’m so sorry,” she said in a very small voice.

“I know,” I said, stroking her hair. I swallowed hard and blinked to clear my eyes. “I’m ... I’m sorry too. I never should have talked to you like that.”

“I deserved it,” she said with a sniffle. “I wanted you to like me.”

“I do like you,” I said, unable to keep the shock from my voice. “Why do you think I just wanted to spend time with you?”

“I know. Now.” She tightened her grip on me and I felt her trembling. “After Randy, I ... I ... I didn’t want to have anything to do with men. Ever.”

“I know,” I said, smoothing her hair.

“And then you came along. I was scared at first, but you’re not like any of the other guys I’ve ... known.” She sniffled again and her trembling redoubled. “I was so afraid last night. And then you looked so angry when you turned to leave a little while ago, I felt like my heart was being ripped out.”

“Shhhhh, it’s okay. I’m still here.”

“I think I might be ... I’m so sorry ... But I think I might be in...” She sobbed again and I held her close. “This wasn’t supposed to happen,” she said plaintively. “I thought I knew how I felt about—”

“Shhhhh. It’ll be all right.”

I held her close and her sobs eased off. She still clutched me tightly and sniffled occasionally, but the worst seemed to be behind us. I finally felt her relax her grip and she pulled back.

She looked up at me and smiled wanly. I smiled in return and stroked her hair.

“I must be a wreck,” she said with a rueful bark of laughter.

“No,” I said gently, caressing her still-damp cheek. “You’re beautiful.”

She held her face against me again and hugged me tight. Then, she relaxed and started to slide off the bed.

“Just give me a minute,” she said as she stood.

She walked out of the room and I heard the bathroom door close. When she returned, a few minutes later, her face was scrubbed clean and she looked far better. Her eyes were still red and puffy, and her upturned nose was red as well, but her smile was no longer sad. She shut the bedroom door after she entered and stood for a moment, leaning against the jamb.

I smiled warmly and she walked toward me. The thin white fabric of her robe did little to hide her lissome body, and I felt myself begin to harden. I spread my arms as she reached me, and enfolded her in an embrace. She drew a deep, shuddering breath as I hugged her; we stood like that for a while, neither of us daring to move.

She shifted against me, and through the silken fabric, I felt her nipples harden. My penis twitched in response and then began to grow. She felt it and stepped back. She looked up at me, eyes wide with anticipation, and her bottom lip trembled. I put my hands on her cheeks and leaned down to kiss her.

It started slowly at first, tender and sweet. I felt her untie the belt at her waist, and as she pressed her nubile body against me, the kiss grew heated. We pressed our lips together and began exploring with our tongues. My penis hardened completely, trapped against her body, and she ground her hips against me.

I ran my hands down the smooth lines of her back and crushed her body against my own. Her hard nipples bored into my chest as our tongues feinted and thrust. I ran my hands back up her body, feeling her shiver against me, and put them on her shoulders. With one smooth motion, I slid the light fabric over her shoulders and down her arms. She released me and quickly shrugged, our lips never breaking contact. The robe fell to the floor and she wrapped her arms around me again.

I pushed her back against the bed and she sat down, breaking our kiss. My erection sprang free and she wrapped her lips around the head, holding me in place with her hands on my hips. She didn’t waste time teasing me; instead, she simply swallowed as much of my length as she could and began to lavish attention on my shaft. I didn’t want to come too quickly, so I reluctantly pulled out of her mouth.

I bent down to kiss her again and gently directed her to the center of the bed, crawling after her. I turned her with subtle gestures and she settled her head against the pillows, her lips never leaving my own. Her legs spread willingly as I crawled between them, and the head of my bobbing penis bumped against the inside of her thigh.

She moaned into my mouth and quickly reached between us to wrap her fingers around my girth. She set the tip of my erection against her already slick lips and I thrust gently. The glans slipped inside her body and she released me. She locked her hands around my neck and I felt her thighs grip me as I began to ease into her.

Her pussy was incredibly hot and already overflowing with her arousal. I sank into her, inch by glorious inch, until my pubic hair crushed against her and my balls settled against her ass. I ground my hips against her for effect and she groaned. She locked her legs around my waist and began kissing my cheeks and neck as I arched my back, trying to bury myself deeper inside her pussy.

She responded against me, lifting her hips to meet me. I clenched my buttocks and felt my cock swell within her. My lips were closed tight and my nostrils flared as I breathed deeply, savoring the feeling of her smooth inner walls against my cock. She pulled my head down and began to kiss and nibble my neck and I began to pull out.

The cool air bathed my superheated cock as it left her body, and when only the crown was inside her, I paused for a moment. She whimpered against me and tried to thrust her hips up at me. I gently lowered myself to meet her and she quivered against me. When I reached bottom, her pussy gripped me tightly and my head swam. I hooked my arms under her shoulders and supported myself on my elbows, keeping my weight off her.

I felt her breathing, heavy and sweet against my neck, and pulled back for another thrust. She shuddered again as my cock dragged across her sensitive pussy walls. I thrust back into her slowly, delighting in the sensation of spreading her open. When I reached bottom, I ground my hips against her, causing her to gasp and clutch me tighter.

I began to fuck her with long, slow, gentle strokes. At the end of each one, as my dick was buried to the root, I would grind my pubic bone against her to stimulate her clit. I kept up my steady, measured pace for a long time and her arousal grew with each thrust.

She was clutching me tightly and whimpering into the hollow of my shoulder as I slid in and out of her. Whenever I felt my climax approaching, I buried myself completely and stopped. Each time I did, I ground my hips against her, rubbing her clit and making her gasp and cry out. When my impending orgasm subsided, I would start thrusting into her again.

I fucked her like that for a long, languid, tender time. She began to pant against me and I felt her pussy start to clutch at my invading dick. I maintained my deliberate pace and the strength of her spasms increased until I was finally almost forcing myself inside her.

With a rush of moisture, her pussy went wild. She screamed, her voice in my ear almost deafening, and then began to buck her hips against me. I rode her through her orgasm, doing nothing more than keeping my hard shaft buried in her gripping pussy. Inside, she was awash with moisture and heat, and I felt like I’d buried my cock in a bubbling cauldron.

Her nails dug into my back and she pressed her forehead against my collarbone as her orgasm subsided. She was still gasping for air as I began slowly thrusting within her again. She went limp beneath me and I pulled back to look at her, to make sure she was okay. She felt me move and opened her passion-glazed eyes. She looked at me a long time before finally focusing on my face. Her smile was delirious for a moment and then her eyes rolled back as I ground my hips against her again.

I kept fucking her, feeling another orgasm welling up within her. She rolled her head side-to-side, still gasping and quaking with aftershocks. Her second orgasm was not long in coming, and her pussy once again spasmed and clutched at my erection. The muscles contracted and I could feel the undulations of her stomach as she went over the edge once again.

I kept up my pace, fucking her through her orgasm. I felt like I was battering my way into her pussy, but her rising moan of ecstasy soon turned to a shriek and I knew she was lost in the pleasure of the moment. Her pussy gushed again and I felt the wetness run down my balls and coat her ass.

I relentlessly thrust into her as her second orgasm subsided. Her eyes popped open and she stared at me in shock. I grinned mischievously and her eyes rolled back once more as I sped my pace.

Her ankles unlocked from around my back and her legs fell open before me. I raised myself on my arms and began to pound into her. She was still spasming around my hammering cock and her breathing was rapid and shallow, her face flushed with excitement. She cried out with each thrust and I covered her mouth with my own.

She eagerly responded against me and her pussy got hotter and wetter still. The muscles in her vagina clamped down on my invading cock and tried to hold me inside her. With forceful thrusts, I impaled her, finally letting my own building orgasm have its way.

With one final lunge, I slammed into her. She pulled back and broke our kiss, gasping. Her pussy spasmed around me and finally pushed me over the edge. I groaned as the first spurts of semen blasted into her depths. Stacy’s third orgasm erupted as my cock swelled to fill her with my white, hot seed. Geyser after geyser of my come gushed into her as she rode the waves of her own orgasm, shrieking and clutching me to her. Because I’d taken so long building up to my orgasm, it felt like I was being drained through my dick, my entire essence pouring into her.

I closed my eyes tightly and lost myself in the warmth and pleasure radiating from our union. She heaved beneath me, her grasping pussy milking my cock for all it was worth, and I finally collapsed atop her.

She went limp as the final tremors of her orgasm subsided, and we lay together, a panting, sweaty, tangled, and blissfully fulfilled heap.


When we finally recovered enough to move, I rolled off of her. A torrent of our juices flooded from Stacy’s gaping pussy to puddle between her legs. A spreading patch of wetness already darkened the bedspread beneath her, and she rolled against me, throwing her arm over my chest and a leg over one of my own. I wrapped my arm around her and we sighed deeply in unison.

“I’ve never come like that,” she whispered in my ear, still breathing heavily.

I turned my head and looked at her. Her eyes met mine and she nodded.

“Never that long, or hard. And never...” She ran a finger idly over my sweaty, hairless chest. “And never with a guy in my pussy.”

“Never?”

“Never. The only time I’ve ever come with a guy inside me has been when he’s been in my ass.” Her finger continued to trace patterns and she shuddered with the effects of an aftershock. “That’s why I think I might be in ... Oh, God...” She paused for a long time. “I don’t know if I am or not.”

“Are what or not?”

I felt her tense beside me and stroked her bare shoulder reassuringly.

“Nothing,” she said quietly.

“What?”

“Shhhhh. It’s nothing. Just a silly thought.”

“You can tell me anything,” I said earnestly. “Even the silly things.”

“Shhhhh.” She didn’t move for a moment, and it felt like she was holding her breath. Finally, she clutched me tighter and sighed. “Just hold me,” she said in a very small voice.

I squeezed her to me and lapsed into a contemplative silence.


We must have dozed off, because the next thing I remember was opening my eyes and feeling Stacy trembling beside me. The room was almost stuffy and reeked with the scent of sex, and I wondered how she could be cold enough to tremble. With a start, I realized she wasn’t trembling with cold; she was crying.

Her sobs were nearly silent, and it was only because she was pressed so tightly against me that I’d noticed in the first place.

“What’s the matter?” I asked, my voice scratchy with disuse.

She sniffled and I felt her move her arm to wipe her face.

“Are you okay?” I asked again, concern coloring my tone.

“I’m fine,” she said as she lifted her head to wipe her other cheek.

“Then why are you crying?”

She raised her head and looked at me. Her eyes and nose were once again red, and she smiled wanly. “I’m happy is all.”

At my doubtful look, she smiled again, almost convincingly. Almost. She blinked at me and her expression turned pleading. I smiled at her reassuringly and she closed her eyes. She looked relieved as she settled her head on my chest and drew a deep, shuddering breath. She sniffled again, but her tears didn’t return, and I mulled over what could’ve gotten her upset.

She was upset, and clearly wanted to hide the fact from me. I stroked her back gently, buying time to think. Was she still upset about what I’d said to her? After the incredibly tender and passionate sex we’d just had, I somehow doubted it. Was she disappointed in me? She’d come three times, and had seemed to enjoy herself. I ran through a dozen other questions in my mind, and at each one, I drew a blank.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” I asked softly.

She raised her head and smiled at me. Her expression was full of longing and a veneer of happiness that almost covered ... something. A shadow passed across my eyes and she bent to kiss my chest. She raised herself and began to kiss down my stomach toward my flaccid penis. When she reached my legs, she nudged her way between them and took my soft glans in her mouth.

With her tongue swirling around the tip of my member, I quickly hardened. She took me into her mouth, less and less as I grew, and I laced my fingers behind my head and breathed deeply.

Stacy smothered my rigid shaft with kisses, from the base to the tip, and then took me back in her mouth. She wasted little time, however, before she wrapped her hand around the base and locked her lips around my girth. She began to lick and suck me, urging me on with noises of encouragement. For my part, I merely relaxed and let her have her way with me.

She kept pumping me with her fist and then brought up her other hand to caress my balls, running her fingernails over the loose skin and sending shivers up my spine. That, combined with her strong lips raking across the sensitive underside ridge, quickly brought me to the point of no return.

Her lips were still locked around my shaft as my hips began to jerk with unmistakable signs of my impending orgasm. Yet she pumped and sucked me with abandon.

“Oh, God, Stacy,” I moaned. “I’m gonna come.”

I felt the semen welling up at the base of my shaft and tried to hold off, waiting for her to remove her mouth from my swelling manhood.

“I’ve gotta come,” I grunted, clenching my abdominal muscles in a futile attempt to hold back.

I raised myself on my elbows and looked down at her bobbing head. The pressure was growing to the point where keeping my semen dammed up was beginning to cause physical pain.

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