Date: Wed, 01 Aug 2012 13:52:18 +0100
From: tom <amias09@fastmail.fm>
Subject: Brief Encounters chap 100

Brief Encounters - the ever continuing saga... eekkk!

First the mandatory warnings and disclaimers - basically don't read this if
the naughty sexual exploits of young teenage schoolboys do not appeal. The
characters depicted are fictional and not intentionally based upon any one
person... although, if you do suddenly find yourself in the middle of the
story just think how lucky you are!

This is ostensibly a work of fiction, albeit with a few memories from my
own school days plus some of the many invariably unspoken fantasies which I
and my "best friends" would only ever rarely admit or allude to when we
were at that very special, trusting and certainly innocent age.

Today, it's very hard to imagine what it was like without the internet to
immediately help conjure up fantasies based on images, webcams, stories or
chat. Our sex lives were entirely dependant upon a very fervent imagination
and thus being able to create our own fantasies usually based on friends
and what we saw happening beneath the desk or in the changing rooms! I make
no excuses for the fact that underwear features prominently in this story,
because quite frankly it did, it was a very visible and tangible connection
between us and our ever developing fascination with sex! It's important to
remember that other than the very rare sexual extrovert, we never dared
mention the subject because we were just too embarrassed and nobody
understood what was happening to us anyway!

You might call it a story about the age of discovery - usually in bed - or
if you shared a bedroom with a brother, then discovery would be in the
bathroom!

Do note, at the time of writing the story itself is not finished and for
better or worse, it has now turned into a work of some length but I will
regularly post updates and there are more than enough pages written to keep
it going! Nifty require a text file so if the formatting or punctuation go
slightly up the creek you now know why! And, also during the writing for
various reason I have had to change character names, so I hope for
continuity they are now correct!

Finally, I hope you enjoy it and please, please do let me have any comments
or suggestions and for some of you I it might even jog a memory or two,
three if you are lucky... I would be intrigued to learn!

Tom email: amias09@fastmail.fm

***************************************************************************************************

>>>>>>>>>>> Well who would have thought I would have written a hundred
chapters of this, certainly not me as when I started out I thought I might
be lucky to manage even ten!

So a very BIG thank you to Nifty for publuishing the epic and to all you
readerrs who have lasted the course so far.

As ever I would encourage you to let me have your ideas, comments and
suggestions for the story since it looks to me as though it's going to
carry on... and on...

Tom

####################################################################

Chapter 100 – Musical pants!


It was around eleven thirty that morning when Nigel, having bathed and
found some moderately clean clothes finally arrived at Art's house.

"Great!" an excited Simon opened the front door. "I was afraid you'd
forgot, you've got the key ain't you?"

"Course, promised didn't I?" Nigel smiled, appearing happy on the outside
he didn't feel that happy on the inside. "Here you are. Now don't bloody
well lose it."

"Cor," Simon grabbed it from the outstretched hand and looked at it, a
rusty old padlock key, "thanks. I'm off, I gotta tell `em it's on."

"Tell who it's on? Wot's on? Wot's you gonna be doing in there then?" asked
Nigel knewing perfectly well what was likely to happen. "Nothing that I
wouldn't wanna do I `spose?"

"Yer wot?" the rhetorical question halted Simon in his tracks. "Wot's
mean?"

"Nothin'," Nigel grinned and pushed his hand deep into his jeans pocket,
something which made Simon look twice, "so wot time's nothing's gonna to be
happening then, early afternoon I `spose?"

Confused, Simon screwed his face up then suddenly grinned, "Yer, I get it!
Ha fuckin' ha.. very clever!"

Nigel grinned back.

"Hey, so how d'you know it's gonna be early afternoon then?" asked Simon,
naively confirming exactly what Nigel wanted to know.

"Just a guess innit," Nigel scratched his head and pretended to think,
"`and I reckon be about half two, three o'clock, that about right?"

"Cor, dead right." Simon looked amazed at Nigel's powers of deduction and
very simple subterfuge. "Nige, you knows everything!"

"And, I also knows you're a bunch of dirty little sods." Nigel rearranged
him swelling organ through his pocket, eagerly watched by Simon. "Now go
and tell that tosser of a big brother of your's I want's to see him."

"We ain't no worse than you!" said Simon defensively of this friends.

"Maybe not, but yer still a bunch of dirty little sods! Now piss off and
tell Art I'm yer will you."

"Piss off yerself!"

Clutching the key and grinning, Simon went back inside the house and
shouted up the stairs to Art's closed bedroom door that had a visitor
before rushing outside to get his bike. By the time Art had fastened his
jeans and appeared downstairs Simon was already well on his way down the
road to David's house.

"Alright then?" Art hovered at the front door, there was a definite lump in
his jeans.

"Sort of." Nigel nodded towards him, "Ain't interrupted nothing have I?"

"Not yet!" for once Art looked almost embarrassed, "But it was close, then
I thought I'd save it for this afternoon. That's gonna be real good innit?"

"Well I hope it all fuckin' works and that fuckin' Ian don't forget to
appear or we're right fucked!" Nigel paused. "I mean we told all those that
was gonna come on Friday afternoon didn't us, if they all appear and it
don't work we're gonna look a right pair of cunts ain't we?"

"Bollocks. It'll be fuckin' brilliant, don't you want get hands on one of
the little fuckers, it's our fuckin' chance innit?" Art paused and pushed a
hand into his pocket, the bulge certainly wasn't getting any smaller. "Just
think, having caught hold of that Tom, pulling his shorts down getting a
finger in his pants and up his bum!"

"It's all you think of innit, fuckin' sex all the fuckin' time!"

"Hey, hold on," Art looked at Nigel's glum face, he could tell instantly
that all wasn't entirely well within Nigel's world. It was one of those
looks. "Wassup Nige? Wot's wrong, come on I knows you.. wot is it?"

"Uumm.." Nigel bit his lip. He had hoped to have held out longer but Art's
look had finished him.

"Come on, d'you wanna talk? Mum and dad's about inside, so wanna go in the
back garden?"

"Could do."  Nigel followed knowing that now he couldn't contain himself
much longer, slowly they trooped through the hall and dining room into the
rear garden to sit on the infamous garden bench where Art's own heart to
hearts were usually held.

"So wot's up then?"

"It's me dad again innit." Nigel looked at the grass, much as Art had been
doing of late in the very same spot. "Him and mum."

"Wot's mean? Wot's he done?"

It was a case of the blind leading the blind as in truth Art had no more of
an idea of what to say or do than Nigel had.

"Well.. he's been treating mum like shit again... they been having words
and all that... oh fuck, I don't know wot to think.."

"Uumm.. well.." was as far as Art got. Thinking it was a good idea he
tentatively put his hand on top of Nigel's leg which only succeeded in
destroying what little composure Nigel had left and causing him to
immediately burst into tears.

"Fuckin' hell.. I ain't seen you cry like this before... oh fuck!" muttered
Art, who after his own problems and recent paternal talks wasn't feeling
that emotionally strong himself. "Nige, please fuckin' stop it.. oh, I
don't fuckin' know.. oh, fuckin' hell!"

"Fuckin' hells right innit!" mumbled Nigel through his tears. "It's all
fuckin' shit.. and I don't fuckin' understand it."

"Oh fuck, Nige I, I don't know wot to fuckin' say.."

It was typically honest if nothing else. Art was totally out of his depth
and really didn't have a clue what to do or say. He concluded his only real
option was to hold Nigel much as he had done for him when he was
emotionally distraught, he moved up the bench and pulled him close.

"I just hope they don't fuckin' split up," continued Nigel his voice
muffled from within Art's sweaty shirt, "mum don't think they will."

"Oh fuck." reiterated Art having apparently now having adopted the two
words as his sole means of counselling. "Wot.. uumm.. oh fuck... I don't
know.."

"I knows you don't knows," said Nigel tearfully, his metaphors were
becoming equally meaningless, "it don't matter... `cause you sorta
understands you don't knows anyway!"

"You got that fuckin' dead right." replied Art sagely.

Well, in Art's case, it was nearly was right! Naive almost to the point of
absurdity on occasion his heart was unquestionably in the right place. It
was destined to be one of those memorable occasions, suddenly moving over
he whispered in Nigel's ear. "You do smells nice, you just had a bath?"

Nigel didn't know whether to laugh or cry. He did both. Pulling back from
the embrace he looked Art directly in the face and with tears rolling down
his cheeks started to laugh. Surprised, Art returned one of his very
special looks, blinked to contain his own tears and leant forward to kiss
Nigel, in a rather slobbery fashion fully on the lips.

That did it. Hearts racing and tears in their eyes they sat back and looked
at each other. Nothing was said, Nigel reached out and held Art's rather
hot and sweaty hand.

Eventually Art's face broke into a smile, another one of those smiles. "So
did you, I mean have you had a bath?"

"You daft cunt. I, I..." Nigel gave in to his emotions and squeezed the
hand hard, very hard. "Yeah I did. Mum thought I smelt of cum. That ain't
wot she said, but was wot she meant, wunnit?"

"I always smells of cum." Art looked wistfully at Nigel's tear stained
face, he paused and swallowed hard. "I wish. I just wish.."

"You wish what?" asked Ted, who having approached the bench looking
directly into the sun hadn't realised how closely they were sat next to
each other.

"Ddd.. dad.. I wish.." mumbled Art praying his father had heard no more of
the conversation.

"Fuck!" said Nigel to himself under his breath.

"Well I really wish I knew where that Simon has got to, have you seen him?"
Ted smiled down at Nigel. "Sorry Nigel, in the bright sun I thought that
was him here with Art, I must have missed you coming in."

"It's, it's OK."

Nigel nervously cleared his throat hoping his appearance didn't give too
much away. Holding Ted and his unique approach to parenting in very high
esteem the truth was Nigel would have loved the opportunity to have talked
his problems through with him. However, realising he had been somewhat
overwrought he knew it was not quite the right time.

"Dad, uumm.. I think Simon's gone to see Dave." Art rubbed his eyes looking
in the sun in the hope it would disguise the redness.

"OK, well the mystery is solved. I'll leave you to it then," said Ted, "oh,
and mum wants to show me some fancy garden or something now."

"Best of luck." Art looked up. He sounded normal, but his eyes told a
different story. "Yer going out? But, dad wot about mum and her Sunday
dinner?"

"Ah.. for once... and remember it's lunch mark not dinner... it's been
postponed until six o'clockish." said Ted smiling. "I've just won that
major battle for you boys, it makes sense in the summer doesn't it?."

"Cor, hooray! At last!" Art smiled back. "Can Nige stay for a snack midday
then?"

"Yes, of course he can if it's alright with his parents. Now I'd better go
before I'm chased, we'll be back by one."

Hearing the inane banter Nigel almost felt like crying, it was so obviously
missing in his life.

"It's alright, mum knows I might not be back and we're eating tonight when,
well when.. dads back." he continued to smile although from the tone of his
voice he didn't sound entirely himself.

"Are you alright Nigel?" asked Ted.

"Fine Mr W." he sounded anything but fine.

"You sure?"

"Dad you'd better go, I think I just seen mum. " Art pointed towards the
house.

"Damn." muttered Ted, it seemed to him from Nigel's previous talk that
things might not be that great at home again. "Maybe another time Nigel?"

"Maybe.. please." mumbled Nigel, trying to avoid eye contact as he knew it
would finish him.

"She'll be after you dad!" Art managed a grin.

"Art, you could always go in my place, it's very easily arranged!" replied
Ted turning. "Hey, and before I forget, just what was it you were wishing
for earlier then?"

"I.. I.." Art's mind went instantly blank, desperately racking his mind for
an excuse he stuttered, "I, I wish I could go on the half term camping
trip!"

"Camping trip? You?" Ted looked amazed. "That's first I've heard of that!
What, when and where?"

"Uumm.. near some castle or something, in Wales I think." Nigel squeezed
Art's hand appreciatively for the relatively quick thinking and then let it
go, best not to be seen.

"It's a new thing for the history class, Mr Woods told us about it."

"Well I don't see why not, if you really want to. And, so it's a history
trip then?"

"Yer. Can I really? They only sent the note out yesterday, but I lost it!"
Art suddenly brightened up, "Dad, it's only three days. Nige is gonna ask
if he can go as well, ain't you?"

"Yer, I'm gonna ask me mum." said Nigel firmly. "Be alright I reckon, won't
cost much will it?"

"Well Art, yes if you want to go. I agree with Nigel, I can't think going
camping is going to cost very much. You'd better let me have the details."
Ted looked rather bemused at Art's sudden interest in outdoor activities.

"Thanks dad." Art reached to touch Ted's hand.

"You do know camping's alright till it rains don't you?" Ted smiled and
rather touched at Art's rare spontaneous show of affection. "I mean, the
thought of you lot camping in rain must be a teachers a worst nightmare!"

"Dad it'll be alright," Art couldn't resist looking at Nigel for a few
moments, it was one of those looks and didn't go unnoticed by Ted either,
"we're gonna be in our little tent won't us?"

"Oh, yes! I'm sure you will." Ted grinned, instantly seeing the double
meaning, "You can have lot of fun under canvas."

"Dad! I didn't mean anything." Art having realised that his father had
guessed exactly what he had really been alluding to, he turned to look at
Nigel again which caused them to both blush.

"Love, I know what you meant and I really hope you both have a good time,"
he half turned to leave, "But please just remember what we've talked about
recently."



After the previous evenings bathtime fun Alex had managed to partly dry the
underpants borrowed from Simon by wringing the water out of them and
hanging them from the catch of his open bedroom window. The prospect of the
what was to happen the following afternoon did little to aid his sleep and
he woke about one o'clock on the point of concluding a wet dream. Once
awake he threw the covers back and began wanking furiously thinking he
would as usual cum in his pyjamas when he suddenly remembered Simon's
briefs.

Getting out of bed and waddling across the floor with his pyjama trousers
around his ankles and the gooey end of his erection sticking out in front
he excitedly grabbed the underpants from the window and went back to sit on
the edge of the bed. The material felt cold and wet, it clung to his skin
as he tugged them up, swivelling round he lay bed and finished by pulling
his pyjama trousers over the top to keep warm. Having already held off from
ejaculating by rubbing the wet material up and down his cock it didn't take
long before he shot all his juices into the damp cotton. Then, feeling very
satisfied with the briefs again coated with spunk the late hour began to
catch up with him, so wiping his hands on his pyjamas he soon fell into a
deep sleep.

As predicted, Alex had indeed been one of the many schoolboys that joined
Tom in his Sunday morning rite and just as Tom had done, he too had
ejaculated excitedly into the Woolworths briefs. After the ravages of the
previous evening and nocturnal emissions, by the time Alex squirted his
modest amount of watery cum into them, the briefs were more or less dry but
had become distinctly smelly and stained.

Somewhere around ten o'clock he hauled himself out of bed, gathered up the
clothes he intended wearing for the day and took himself off to the safety
of the bathroom. Carefully locking the door behind him the bathroom offered
the opportunity to strip right off and look at himself in the mirror,
something he did quite often after school. To make great play of his little
striptease and end up prancing around in just his pale blue Y-fronts before
finally masturbating into the basin had now become quite a
ritual. Sometimes he found it incredibly erotic to wear just his briefs and
masturbate right up against the mirror allowing his spunk to run down the
glass. Other times if he knew that if a clothes wash was imminent, to stand
in the bath, finger himself and ejaculate in his briefs followed by pissing
in them was, whilst very messy was something of big turn on.

There were naturally variations on the theme, some more arousing than
others. If he knew his mother was definitely going to be occupied elsewhere
he would lock himself in the bathroom, lay the smaller mirror on the floor
and crouch over it. Pulling his underpants to one side he could watch as he
fingered his bumhole whilst slowly masturbating and seeing the blobs of cum
fall over his reflection.

All in all, like so many boys of his age he didn't regard those sort of
actions as disgusting, but more of exciting sexual experiments some of
which he would confess to Tom. But, some not!

However that was then and now was now. And, now meant Alex found himself
sat at the dining table as the ritual of the Sunday lunch finally reached
the end of sweet course. He looked across at the clock on the
mantelpiece. One forty, possibly by one fifty he could escape the house and
be on his way meet Tom.

"Can I go please mum?" he asked.

"I suppose so, it's not as though you stay to help with the washing up
anyway!" replied Maggy smiling.

"So what are you doing this afternoon that's such a rush?" his father
Stephen looked up from his empty plate. "Must be something very important
to want to rush off."

Alex's eyes darted furtively from one to the other, his brain working
overtime. The excitement of what the afternoon promised had been building
up all week and now, at the eleventh hour he dare not risk anything however
innocuous spoiling the fun. How could his parents possibly know what
disgusting thoughts he had planned to translate into equally disgusting
deeds. Surely not, impossible. Or, could they? How did his father know it
was important?

"Uumm.. we was gonna.."

Having just talked himself in to a non-existent situation he further
compounded his troubles by beginning to look rather guilty. Whatever his
parents were to say must be treated with suspicion!

"We? That's with Tom I imagine?" interrupted Maggy innocently. "He's such a
nice and polite boy isn't he?"

"Mmhh yeah." Alex wasn't too sure about the maternal probing however gentle
it appeared to be.

"Yes, I met his father at a parents evening once, seemed a nice chap." said
Stephen. "Maybe we ought to get together one evening."

"Now, that's an idea." said Maggy.

"Oh."

Did that mean the two sets of parents could be discussing what he and Tom
got up too?

"You'll be with Simon as well then?" continued Stephen.

"Wot!"

Alex nearly fell off his chair, how could they possibly know what had been
planned for the afternoon and that he would be with Tom and Simon.

"Don't say wot, it's rude dear." Maggy smiled as ever.

"How d'you know... know wot I'm doing dad?" he blurted out nervously.

"Detective work!" Stephen scratched his chin.

"Wot! How?" Paranoia set in, the details about meeting at the allotment
weren't known as well! They couldn't be, could they!

"Well," continued Stephen seeing Alex had taken the bait, "you've been
wearing your old football shorts all morning and since you always play
football with those two it seemed pretty obvious to me."

"Oh..." Alex sounded extremely relieved and looked blankly at his father.

"I'm told there's new flower display in the park, we thought we might look
in later so we'll probably see you there playing then." Maggy stood up and
started to gather the dirty plates.

"Oh, didn't know that." he replied looking very guilty again.

Panic, what to do if they did go the park and look for him when he
obviously wasn't going to be there, but was instead was hopefully being
rogered sideways in a filthy shed on an allotment!

"Are you alright?" asked Stephen when Maggy had gone to the kitchen. Having
been noting the not so subtle changes in Alex's complexion and body
language it seemed something was up. "You wouldn't be doing anything you
really shouldn't would you?"

"Uumm.. no.." he tried to look away. Having been brought up to be honest it
seemed having a conscience at his age was now proving something of a
handicap!

"You're not in trouble or anything?"

"No, no.. dad no, please there's nothing, nothings happening at all."

"Ah well, if you say so. You can always ask you know."

"Ask, yeah, right. Ta."

"I mean," Stephen finally caught his eye and smiled, "you can ask about
anything, I mean anything. You know, now you're getting older."

That did it, Alex certainly did know and went bright red to prove it.

"Oh Stephen, leave him alone, look you've embarrassed him" Maggy reappeared
and fluttered her hand in Alex's direction, "off you go darling and well,
uumm, well, we might see you later in the park."

Alex took off like rocket and on reaching the safety of his bedroom sat
down on the bed. Parents, why couldn't they just leave him alone! Anyway,
just how did his father know that he was masturbating? Now he had reached
that certain age it was too simple for him to see the clues he left, the
constant hand in the pocket, the closed bedroom door, staying in bed in the
morning and numerous trips to the bathroom. The fears and possibilities
were as endless as they were totally groundless!

Tom was already waiting on the pavement by the war memorial as Alex
appeared around the corner cycling at high speed and looking very red in
the face.

"Gawd, you're in a hurry," said Tom drawing back out the way as he
screeched to a halt, "I would have waited y'know."

"Bloody parents!" exclaimed Alex, "Me dad's been winding me up, he's got me
all embarrassed in front of mum saying he could help me as I was growing up
and if I wanted to know about things!"

"Wot about wanking you mean?"

"Wot else! I went all fuckin' red in the face and they both saw me, so now
they knows I do it."

"You are now!" Tom giggled. "You been doing it on the way here then?"

"Piss off, that's from cycling!"

"Anyway, bet you'll be doing it soon enough. Now d'you think of anything we
can get `em all to do like last time?" Tom looked at Alex's white shorts,
"I can see you ain't got yer blue pants on."

"Nah," Alex looked rather sheepish, "I'm still wearing the ones Simon lent
us, I ain't taken 'em off yet!"

"Oh," Tom grinned, "well that makes two of us, `cause I ain't taken 'em off
either. They don't half smell, I thought me dad was sniffing earlier!"

"I've wanked in 'em, slept in 'em and pissed in `em," Alex grinned, "and
you?"

"All that, but I ain't pissed in 'em," said Tom, "yet! Now wot we gonna get
'em to do."

"First I've made dead sure I've told 'em all to wear old pants, football
shorts and a vest!"

"Good, I thought adding the vest was a bit of turn on," Tom grinned, "well
it turns me on anyway!"

"But you ain't got it on!" Alex looked closely.

"Bloody have," Tom lifted up his T shirt to show the offending garment,
"see, it's from junior school, bit small but it'll do."

"I got mine in me pocket, mum was about and if she'd seen me in it she'd
have got all nosey."

"Well bloody get it on, I don't wanna be the only feeling like a pratt
dressed in one!"

"I'll do it when we gets there. First I wanna tell you wot I thought up, I
reckon we can draw lots like we did last time," Alex reached in his pocket,
"see I brought some paper. So we can draw for a partner and then we gotta
start doing things."

"We do things? Well wot sorta things?" asked Tom excitedly squeezing the
growing tent in his shorts. "You got me up already, go on tell me, so wot's
the things?"

"Well, first off we all gotta undress our partner, then he undresses us and
we gotta swop pants and vests so that's all we gotta to wear, see?"

"Cor, yeah I see alright! I love undressing somebody," said Tom still
holding his shorts, "well go on then, bloody then wot?"

"Just shut yer face and I'll tell you!" Alex grinned knowing how Tom loved
just the thought of undressing other boys. "So then we're gonna have,
have... we're.. gonna have.. "

"Have wot?"

By now Alex had dissolved into a giggling fit.

"Bloody have wot?" cried Tom now also in danger of contracting the very
infectious schoolboy complaint of the giggles. "Tell me!"

"It's too.. too fuckin' stupid... no, no...we can't.. oh fuck yes.. we
will!" stuttered Alex in between laughing, "We, we're having.. having a
game of .. of.. musical pants!"

"Wot!" Tom nearly fell off bike with laughter. "Musical fuckin' pants! Wot!
How!"

"Yer, it's like musical chairs `cept we ain't got none! So we draws chairs
on the floor and sits in 'em!" Alex was really struggling to explain since
he was spluttering with laughter, "I got a bit of chalk see?"

"Oh fuck!" Tom could barely speak for laughing. "So we draws a chair then
wot then?"

"So the one who's left standing has to take his pants off and stand there
in his vest while we scrubs out a chair."

"Yeah, yeah go on! No, no, wait!" interrupted Tom. "We ain't got no music!"

"That's alright, we're gonna spin a coin and when it stops that's when we
have to sit down."

"Wot, on the dirty floor in our white pants?" Tom burst out laughing. "Alex
this is fuckin' nuts! But it's fuckin' great! So wot happens then?"

"Good innit?" Alex started to giggle again. "Well we goes on, till
everybody's got their pants off except the last one and.. we gotta keep our
vests on mind."

"And... and ... well wot we gonna do to him? The last one." Tom was beside
himself with excitement. "Wot if it was me?"

"You'd fuckin' enjoy it!" said Alex grinning, "See, `cause he's the lucky
one, `cause he's gonna have to go round and suck all our cocks poking out
under yer vest. He gets half a minute a cock!"

"Brilliant! Fuckin' brilliant!"

"Hold on, I ain't finished." Alex was as excited as Tom, "Don't you see,
one us is bound to cum when he's sucking ain't he? I mean we'll all be so
fuckin' excited and that, we might even have cum before!"

"Yeah.. cor.. and.." Tom wondered what devious finale had Alex planned,
"and wot then, I mean how... so hows it finish? Is there a prize, who
wins?"

"Yeah, the cock sucker wins." Alex was already starting to giggle
again. "You'd love to be him wouldn't you?"

"Well yeah course I fuckin' would! But wot would I win?" Tom poked him in
the ribs. "Alex wot the fuck is it, wot's the prize? Fuckin' tell me, come
on!"

"It's obvious innit!" Alex grinned and watched as Tom now openly rubbed
himself through his shorts.

"No it fuckin' ain't, wot is it?" Tom poked him a again. "Please Alex,
wot's the winner get?"

"Looks like I'd better tell you before you cums in yer shorts!" said Alex
giggling. "it's this..."

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Chap 101 to follow