Paperbark Dreaming

I was struggling a little to find or create an image for this week’s Sinful Sunday. I think in my dicking around I may have missed the deadline!!!

During a walk today Mr Jones came across some beautiful paperbarks that were leaning at just the right angle over the Barron River. We checked for any unsuspecting members of the public. With no one coming I stripped and assumed the position while Mr Jones snapped away. Thank goodness there were no ants!!

Even though I missed the deadline to submit my link please click the lips and check out the other entries who were better organised.

Sinful Sunday

Thirty Dirty Questions – Question 7

I am super excited that two other awesome bloggers have taken up the Thirty Dirty Questions Journey. Mike from Marriage Sex and More and Marie Rebelle have both been sharing their answers. Head on over and check out their posts.

What parts of your lover’s body are you most drawn to?

I am unashamedly an arse woman. Show me a great arse and I want to touch it, grip it as it is thrusting towards me, spank it (with permission of course!!) and possibly do a bunch of stuff if the owner is that way inclined.

Mr Jones is the proud owner of a great arse. He has always had one and even as he ages and his body changes as everyone’s does his arse is still great. There is just something about it. Nice and round and neat. It fits nicely in my hand and is firm with a little bit of give like a ripe peach. I wish he liked to be spanked but he is not a huge fan. Although I snuck a little sting with my riding crop recently. He was not impressed.

I purchased the riding crop a little while back when I was seeing JB. He LOVED the feel of it on his arse and I loved the feeling of giving him that pleasure / pain push pull. Ironically I was the woman who helped him to start exploring his love of being spanked and other ouchy things that he had been missing in his marriage and ultimately caused it to fail. Then he had a drunken conversation with his ex – wife and told her about our exploits. Turns out she had all the same fantasies but didn’t know how to share them! I hope they successfully managed to re-kindle things.

Back to arses. A few nights ago Mr Jones and I were having dinner at a pub. I was quite drawn to the attire that the female staff were wearing. It consisted of short active wear style pants or leggings. The more self-conscious girls wore skinny type jeans. But, probably like all the men in the establishment, I couldn’t stop looking at some of the girl’s butts. One, in particular, had the most amazing big round arse. Cardi B would be impressed.

When looking at men I am also a huge fan of pants that fit nicely. Because nothing makes an arse look better than pants that fit nicely. And then there is the pleasure of taking the pants off. To feel the shape of those buns in the palm of your hand. To grip them while they are fucking you. Maybe even to glimpse their arse in the mirror and watch it as it pushes their cock into you. All very good visuals for me.

Men always focus on their cock. When taking sexy photos the cock is always front and centre. Sometimes they need to turn around.

Travelling Boobs

During the first week of our travels I was mucking around with a selfie stick and snapped a shot of my boob with the ancient sand dunes of Rainbow Beach in the background. I posted it on Twitter without a second thought. I am not one for accumulating likes and re-tweets so I never think about what I share too much I just put it there and let the universe enjoy or pass it by.

Later that night I noticed a huge number (for me) of likes and the travelling boob was born. Since then I have posted several more images of my boobs in various iconic and spectacular places. When Molly announced the prompt for this month I knew I wanted to try and make a triptych in a more or less traditional style. Not being entirely tech savvy has let me down a bit but here is my effort!

For the record the three locations featured from left to right are; Brampton Island, Great Keppel Island and Whitsunday mountain.

Want to see who else is sinning this week. Click on the lips below.

Sinful Sunday

A Small Reminder

Something that struck me when I looked at this image was my wedding ring. Often I notice it in images taken when I am playing. I remember once a lover telling me that it was the sexiest thing I was wearing because it meant I belonged to another man and that man was allowing me to be with him. Ever since then I have always noticed my ring in images. It makes me think about the unconventional nature of my marriage and how fortunate I am that I found myself here.

In this image I am performing oral sex on Mr Jones because he indicated he would like me to give him a “road head job” while he was driving the yacht. Not one to deny him a fantasy I complied when the opportunity arose. He enjoyed it but not so much that he forgot to capture the moment!

Sinful Sunday

Attack of the Fifty Foot Women

The prompt for this week’s Wicked Wednesday was to write a post that started from a comment on your blog. In response to a recent Sinful Sunday post No Pants Endurance commented; “The way the photo is set gives me the illusion of the fifty foot woman”. And so here is the attack of the Fifty Foot Women.

“Hello I am Hank,” he had to almost shout over the noise of the club

“My name is Glenda,” she reached out to shake his hand.

“Can I get you a drink?” Inside he kicked himself for sounding so lame but really he didn’t know what else to say. Plus, he felt weird standing there in front of the lounge where she sat with her friends.

Glenda leaned towards the woman sitting next to her. They whispered for a moment before she turned to face him.

“As long as you get one for my friend Wanda,” The two women looked at him with a glitter in their eye that made Hank nervous. Despite his trepidation he shook off the feeling and made his way to the bar.

An hour later the shot glasses were piled all around. A warm feeling filled Hank as he sat wedged between Glenda and Wanda with their other friends Amelia, Maya and Jenna all laughing at everything Hank said. He didn’t know what had happened. Normally women shunned him, laughing at his height, his haircut, pretty much everything about him. This was so out of the ordinary that Hank kept waiting to wake up from the dream.

“Let’s go somewhere a bit more intimate,” Glenda gathered her purse.

All the other women followed suit. As they stood up Hank felt his jaw drop. He felt as if he was a warthog surrounded by a herd of giraffes. These women were enormous. He knew when he stood up that he would barely reach their armpit, or rather their breasts. Glenda was an inch or two taller than the others. A mental image of standing in front of her with her crotch at his eye level filled his head. He stayed sitting on the couch, unsure of what to do next.

“Are you coming?” Glenda beckoned to him. Again, there was that strange glitter in her eye. For a second Hank considered running away but Maya reached out her hand,

“We won’t eat you,” she smiled gently.

Courage, or at least Dutch courage, filled Hank and he stood to his full height of five feet. As he suspected he came up to the armpit of Maya, the shortest one, and his eyeline was just above Glenda’s navel.

“You are so cute,” Jenna cooed. “I love little guys, they are so fun to play with,”

“Behave Jenna,” Glenda chided fondly. “We don’t want to scare our new friend,” She reached out to take Hank’s hand, “Don’t listen to her, she is just being weird.”

Hank nodded and trotted along beside her still feeling like a warthog amongst giraffes.

Twenty minutes later Hank found himself at the apartment that Glenda shared with Wanda. The girls obviously spent a lot of time here, they kicked off their shoes and dropped their purses on the counter. Glenda, Wanda, and Jenna disappeared into bedrooms while Maya and Amelia busied themselves making drinks and choosing music to play on the big screen. Hank stood awkwardly in the middle of the lounge area unsure of what to do or what to expect.

After a short while the three girls re-emerged wearing short silky nightwear. They smiled at Hank as they walked towards him. Glenda took his hand and led him towards the couch that dominated the room. She pulled him down beside her and kissed him on the lips. Hank melted into her embrace, fumbling around her breasts. Without a word she took one of his hands and slid it inside the top of her pyjamas. From behind him Hank felt another hand sliding into his pants to reach around and grip his cock. Jenna’s voice breathed in his ear,

“Well, hello there. I am so glad you have come to play with us.” Her perfume was intoxicating as she kissed the side of his neck. Hank watched mesmerised as Glenda and Jenna kissed before they turned their attentions to him. First one kissed him then the other. Jenna’s hand slid slowly up and down Hank’s shaft and Glenda massaged his hand over her breast encouraging him to pinch her firm nipples.

A third set of hands moved over his torso caressing his own nipples tweaking them gently.

“I think we need to relieve Hank of some of his clothes,” Wanda’s voice was soft in his other ear. Her fingers nimbly unbuttoned his shirt, and he felt a cool rush of air over his naked skin. Glenda trailed kisses down the side of his neck as she helped Wanda remove his shirt. Wanda’s lips mirrored Glenda’s as each woman’s lips made their way to Hank’s nipples. Lips teased his nipples and teeth grazed over the sensitive buds as Hank’s hands were pushed against breasts before Wanda shoved his hand into her pyjama pants.

As Hank slid his fingers into Wanda’s slick wet pussy, he felt his pants being unzipped and his cock eased out of his underwear. Glenda took Hank’s other hand and shoved it against her pussy as she kissed Wanda above Hank. Wet lips slid down over his throbbing cock. Hank let out a strangled moan as his fingers dipped in and out of two pussies. Glenda moved so that she was kneeling over his face. Her pussy was like a vision as it lowered towards his lips.

Obediently reached his tongue upwards and stroked her pussy. She tasted amazing, clean, and salty. Like a man who has been starving he gulped at her as she ground down on his tongue. Wet lips moved up and down his cock and he was aware of women pressing their bodies against him. It felt as if he were covered in them, smothered by their scent, their breasts, their mouths, and their desire.

Somehow, he found himself on the thick rug covered by five giant women. His tiny body seemed to disappear into them. Each woman pleasured him in her own way. All of them partook of each other. Their height meant nothing. Lying down they all were the same height.

One thing Hank knew for certain. He would forever have a thing for tall women.

Wicked Wednesday

You Can’t Show That!

I was once teaching a year 9 (about 14 – 15-year-old) Religion Class. It may surprise you to know I am actually fully qualified to teach this subject which, at our school, is an academically oriented subject. So, I was teaching this class, we were doing a unit about the Reformation which involved a look at how art was largely controlled by the Church until the Renaissance which in some ways triggered the Reformation. I showed this painting as an example of Church influenced art to which a girl called out “You can’t show that it is pornography!” Her reason for thinking it was pornographic; Adam’s penis is visible.

It triggered an interesting discussion, punctuated by the ridiculous behaviour of a bunch of 14 – 15-year-olds who can’t really cope with an open and frank discussion about sex in any setting, let alone a classroom.  I was intrigued by the attitude of my student that nudity = porn. The discussion focussed on the idea that nudity is not always sexual in nature. This painting is an example of this. Man is in fact created naked, clothing is a human contrivance with multiple purposes ranging from, comfort to control.

I can understand why these teenagers think nudity is purely sexual. Many of them grow up being told to cover up so that their nudity is not displayed. The reason for not displaying nudity is purely sexual and related to the ridiculous idea of keeping girls virginal. As teenagers girls display their bodies in suggestive ways to entice boys. This display is often a rebellion against their parents urging them to cover up as younger children.

It was difficult for me to make my point in this class. I was not prepared for this discussion and I was painfully aware of my situation. I teach in a Catholic school; I was in a religion classroom. The topics on my syllabus didn’t even remotely link to explanations about the difference between displaying the human form as art and using nudity for sexual arousal and gratification. And here I was trying to explain this idea using language that was unemotional and formal. In addition, as I was navigating this incredibly awkward situation in a way that would not result in me getting grilled by my principal, I found myself asking the question. Where does art end and porn start?

Dictionary.com defines porn as “sexually explicit videos, photographs, writings or the like, produced to elicit sexual arousal.”

I have read enough to know that many things can elicit sexual arousal in one person while seeming to be completely unsexual to another. In our modern age something like “The Creation of Adam” seems very tame when compared to some of the advertising we see, or the attire that the characters of the latest superhero movie parade around in. But at the time it was painted? Who knows? Perhaps there are some weirdo priests who sit in the Sistine Chapel after hours and gaze upwards with a massive erection.

I have stated before that porn is not really something I peruse. I like reality. Watching people in the flesh have sex is arousing to me. Much more than contrived encounters depicted in standard porno movies. Watching a woman with ridiculous fake nails pretend to enjoy sex with a well-endowed man doesn’t cut it for me. Real people with real flaws pushing past their boundaries and living in the moment are incredibly stimulating. Men that I find attractive masturbating is also stimulating for me. I love the sound of a man cumming. I had a video I took of a friend while I was sucking his cock that I listened to on repeat for months. The sound of his orgasm never failed to cause a throb in my groin. I had, in the spur of the moment, created my own personal porno that was tailored entirely to me and my likings.

I have a friend who likes to see little videos of me when I am playing. He particularly likes to watch my boobs jiggle but any kind of action is welcomed. This man is a FIFO meaning he spends a lot of time in his tiny room alone with his hand. My images have accompanied many a session I am sure. I guess in a way I am his personal porn star. Which is flattering. He is the only man I share this kind of thing with. He is my own personal porn fan. We have only ever met in real life once and never had sex. But you never know what the future holds. For us the line between porn and reality is very blurred.

Where does art end and porn start? I don’t think there is a definitive point. Where does nudity become porn and not art? I don’t think there is a definitive point for that spectrum either. My take home from that situation was that conversations about sex need to become more normal. We need to be more open about sex with teenagers and children. Nudity needs to be debunked. Being nude because it feels good to walk around as we were created is not dirty or illicit. It is natural and normal and it does not always have to be about sex.

This post is part of 4 Thoughts or Fiction prompt #168. Click on the image below to see who else is turned on by Porn

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Saturday Sex Interview – Kinks and Fetishes

Question 1: Have you tried BDSM? How hard core did you get with it? Thoughts?

I have blogged about my feelings on BDSM a few times. I don’t consider myself a true practitioner but as my sexual journey unfolds I find myself dipping my toe in the water deeper and deeper. I had an experience recently that was fuelled by a lot of alcohol and involved dominating a man for a brief moment. The morning after I was very unsure of myself and I am resolved not to go into a situation like that when I am that drunk.

Something that intrigued me was that he professed to not be interested in pain or turned on by it. However a good hard bite on his cock made it grow and harden significantly in my mouth…

Question 2: Have you tried a poly relationship or swinging? Would you like to? Thoughts?

Swinging, yes. This whole blog is about that journey so I won’t try and put that into a nutshell. Polyamoury? Well that is a bit different.

I THINK that I would like to have a second serious relationship but I feel that the reality might be a bit different. Mr Jones is not keen on the idea at all and so for me it will remain a fantasy.

Question 3: Have you been to an adult, clothing optional resort like Hedonism II? Would you like to? Would you go if your spouse wanted to?

Mr Jones and I talked about going to a place like Hedonism when we were much younger. These days we are a bit concerned that we are not young and sexy enough for a place like that. Although recently we have become friends with a couple who regularly participate in Lifestyle cruises and it is something that interests us. If we ever get the confidence

Question 4: Have you tried public or group nudity? (Nudist Colony? Nude bike ride? Nude beach? Skinny dipping with friends? Nude resorts? Other?) Would you you like to participate in any such activity?

There are many swingers who frequent nude beaches. Being comfortable in your own skin is a characteristic of many swingers and it is something they have in common with nudists. BUT there are also a lot of nudists who are not swingers and who don’t really like their events / areas being used by swingers to pick up.

Having said all that I have been known to go nude on several beaches and other swimming places. But I have never gone out of my way to visit a nudist beach or event. It isn’t something that is high on my bucket list.

Question 5: Is there any other kink or fetish you have participated in? Or, any you wish to try or desire? Tell us about it?

The current 4Thought or Fiction prompt focuses on Kink and Fetish. You can read my contribution here.

Extra Credit: If you have any kinks or fetishes, can you tell us your thoughts on where the fetish might stem from? What might be the psychology behind the desire?

The idea that there is some deep rooted ’cause’ for a kink or fetish is a little bit archaic and kind of indicates that people with kinks and fetishes are damaged in some way. I think that people who explore their kinky side and indulge their fetishes are just more in touch with their sexual energy. I believe that everyone has different triggers that turn them on and in a pure sense these triggers could be called a kink. Except that if the kink is common it isn’t really regarded as a kink.

Friday Flashback – Cleaning Out the Closet

As I am working through the material stored in Erotic Adventures I came across this story I wrote for Wank Wednesday, the predecessor of Wicked Wednesday. When I wrote this story I was studying education, now, in my seventh year of teaching, this scenario is my life, sometimes.

As she drove over the border Stella felt a sense of relief. Her daytime persona melted away as her dark side took over. It had been a while since she had made this trip to this place where no one knew the daytime Stella. Parking her car in front of the motel she walked up to the reception desk.

“Hello Ms Monique,” the dark haired gentleman behind the desk greeted her. “We have your usual room ready for you.”

“Thank you Brian.” Stella replied.

“It has been a while since we have seen you,” Brian looked her over unashamedly his eyes taking in her luscious curves partially hidden by the long floral dress she wore. This woman intrigued him.

“Yes, yes it has,” Stella replied fumbling with her purse a little. “I think perhaps a little while too long.”

She made her way to her room. Inside she was trembling. It was always like this. No matter how many times she came to this place it was always terrifying when she first arrived. Carefully she unpacked her small case and stepped into the shower.

Thirty minutes later she was almost ready to leave. She stood looking at her reflection in the mirror checking for traces of Stella. There were none. The person looking back at her was definitely Monique. Giving herself a sultry glance she turned on her six inch heel and strutted out of the door.

As she walked through the lobby Brian watched her go. A tiny black dress barely covered her round ass. Long black boots covered her legs to her thighs and her dark hair flowed down her back. Unlike earlier her curves were on full display now. The metamorphosis was incredible. Brian felt his cock stir as he thought about bending her over the bonnet of her car and fucking her right there in the carpark.

Stella drove for about ten minutes. The butterflies in her stomach increased as she parked outside a club. There was a faint throb of music from inside and a couple of patrons walked up the short stairway and through a big red door. She checked her makeup in the rear view mirror and straightened her dress. With a deep breath she stepped out of the car and made her way up the steps.

Inside the dim light and the deep sensual music calmed her slightly. She made her way to the bar and ordered a drink.

“Hello.” A man beside her greeted her. “I don’t think I have seen you before. My name is Mike.”

Stella looked him over. He was wearing tight black jeans and his shirt was unbuttoned about halfway down his chest. She resisted the temptation to stroke the smooth skin with her fingernails. It was early. There would be time for games like that soon enough.

“My name is Monique.” She looked into his eyes. “I haven’t been here for a while.”

“I love those boots.” Mike smiled invitingly at her.

“Thanks.” Stella smiled at him. Then she noticed someone she knew at a table nearby. “It was nice to meet you Mike, maybe I will see you later.”

“Definitely.”

Stella walked over to the woman she had seen from the bar. “Hello Kate.” She kissed the woman on the lips.

Kate’s hands wrapped around Stella, “I love those boots.” The two women kissed deeply. Stella felt herself relax as Kate’s tongue slipped into her mouth. The dark seductive nature of the club took over her senses and her dark side came fully to the fore.

“Mmmmm,” she gazed into Kate’s eyes as she traced her finger around the neckline of her dress slipping down into the valley of her cleavage. On the stool beside Kate a man Stella had never met slipped his hands around Kate’s waist. Looking Stella in the eye he pressed Kate’s thighs open to show her bare pussy.

Stella knelt between Kate’s knees and held her face close to her pussy. The musky smell of her arousal filled Stella’s nostrils. She felt a trickle of wetness between her own legs. With her tongue she caressed the smooth waxed pussy. Kate leaned against her lover spreading her legs wider. He responded, slipping his hand over her pussy to press his fingers inside her. Stella watched the fingers dipping into the wet pussy and becoming covered with glistening wetness. She smoothed her hand over her own hairless mound responding to the aching need that was growing there.

Gracefully she stood up as the couple in front of her kissed deeply and gave in to their desire for each other. She spied Mike looking at her from the couch against the wall. Slowly she sauntered over to him giving herself time to look at him and also giving other men in the club time to look at her. The feeling of being watched fueled her desire.

Without a word she kissed Mike fully on the lips. Her fingers stroked his bare chest travelling down to his belt. With a little help she opened his fly and released his firm member. Gently she stroked him for a few moments enjoying the touch of the soft skin before kneeling in front of him and taking the whole length into her mouth. It felt as if her whole body sighed as her lips smoothed over the hard hot member. Her head bobbed up and down greedily sucking.

From the corner of her eye she could see another man sitting on the couch beside Mike. She tilted her head so that she could watch him as she sucked. As their eyes met he unzipped his pants and took out his cock. A shiver went through her as she watched him stroke himself. She sucked harder on Mike, the taste of his precum making her crave the hot salt taste of his cum. A pair of hands gripped her butt and she backed against them encouraging them to explore her, needing something to soothe her aching, dripping cunt.

With a groan Mike shot a load of cum into her throat. Stella sucked it down making sure she didn’t spill a drop. When he was quiet she stood up and then bent to kiss him.

“Thank you,” he whispered into her mouth.

“Anytime sweetie,” she winked at him.

She turned and bent her butt towards Mike’s neighbour. Without speaking his hands quickly guided her onto his waiting erection. Stella groaned in pleasure as her wet pussy impaled itself on him. She pulled down the straps of her dress to free her breasts. Her new partner cupped the full round globes in his palms as she ground into his cock. In front of them stood another man with a huge bulge in his pants. Stella smiled devilishly as she reached for his zipper. The night was panning out just as she had planned, cock, cock and more cock.

“Good morning Miss Johnson.” Her principal greeted her as she entered the staff room. “All ready for another week of teaching the wondrous year threes?”

Stella smoothed her long frumpy dress. “Definitely Mr Connors,” she replied. “Cleaning out the closet over the weekend always helps me to have a clear mind for Monday.” 

TMI Tuesday – Life Experiences

1. How do you know if you are connecting with another person?

On a physical level there is this moment when you are meeting for the first time when you touch. It starts with little “accidental” touches, brushing against each other’s fingers and across their knees. Then somehow your fingers become tangled, not holding hands but not apart. You sit a little closer together. When that happens there is a connection. You know that there is that elusive chemistry and that the chances that there will be very good sex are high.

2. To be beautiful means. . .

It is really about confidence. Someone who is comfortable in their skin and happy with the way they are.

3. Do you spend a lot of time keeping up with what is going on.

Not particularly. I have been watching the updates from our politicians regarding Covid restrictions a bit lately but not obsessively. Mr Jones has a lot of time on his hands these days and he watches enough news for both of us.

At work I read the official emails from my principal and his deputies but I delete the updates from the CEO and anyone too far up the food chain. As far as gossip goes I try to stay out of it. Nothing good ever comes from gossip.

4. True or False. You feel that your friends have more rewarding experiences in their lives than you.

It is easy when scrolling through Facebook to feel like everyone has this amazing life full of great moments. Looking at all this stuff can make you feel like you are doing it all wrong. Which is why I don’t really engage much with Facebook. I rarely post photos of what I am up to.

I have done some pretty cool stuff in my life and I am happy with where I am at. My job is important and makes a difference in a small way to some people. My kids are well adjusted and I am planning a great journey with Mr Jones next year. I think people should be envious of my life.

5. During covid19 pandemic do you feel more swamped by your responsibilities than before the pandemic?

When I was delivering my teaching online yes I was a bit swamped. Now it doesn’t feel like anything much has changed in my life. We don’t have a lot of cases where I live which is good but we do have restrictions because everyone is afraid of what could happen if our little safe bubble bursts.

Bonus: What’s on your mind?

Covid – 19 restrictions are sitting at the top of my mind most of the time. It has caused some upheavals in my daughter’s senior year of schooling. Many of the rites of passage that students before her have enjoyed have either been cancelled or modified in such a way that they don’t seem like they would be worth bothering with.

TMI Tuesday – Don’t Take Things too Seriously

1. It’s okay if you don’t wear any _____ .

Shoes if you are walking on the beach

Underwear if you are hoping to have sex

Pants if you are at home watching Netflix


2. What on earth are you here for?

To write rubbish that entertains all of you dirty fuckers. And to post the occasional pic of my boobs. Speaking of which


3. What has been the best day of your life?

The best day is any day that you are above the ground. Unless you are a miner, and then you might enjoy being under the ground. Or at the least know that you are not going to be there permanently.


4. Are you ordinary or extraordinary? Why?

I am fucking ridiculously extraordinary. Why? Because I can be ridiculous as described here, because I am the sexiest thing on the face of the planet as you can clearly see in the above shot. The thing that makes me the most extraordinary though is the fact that I am an excellent teacher who goes above and beyond for my students.


5. How do you want to be described by your friends?

Honest, kind, and thoughtful. Basically a decent human being

Bonus: After a breakup, would you rather be alone or surrounded by friends?

I haven’t actually had a “proper” breakup for over 20 years. That is how long Mr Jones and I have been together. During our journey into non-monogamy I have had a couple of relationships with men that have run a bit deeper than the standard meet for a fuck kind. This is something that you would expect. You can’t spend time with someone without developing some kind of connection.

That is the nature of this game. So, of course when these things end there is some level of pain, feeling of rejection, and general being bummed. It isn’t something you can deal with by sitting on the couch with your friend crying into a tub of ice – cream over. My way of dealing has been to get on with it.

It has worked for the most part. If I feel especially pissed off or they have been a particular twat I may put some words on these pages.

For the record my favourite ice cream is Vanilla but the expensive kind. My favourite chocolate is Cadbury Caramilk

This post is part of TMI Tuesday for 4 August 2020. To see who else is sharing click here.