Erotic Fantascenes

[RyanBlack]

I heard the front door open and close and my stomach did a back flip as I thought, Alone again! I knew I should get up. I was wide awake after all. But I just couldn't bring myself to climb out of the warm cozy bed. I was still laid half on my front under the light cover, my breasts pressed into the crisp warm sheets, a leg parted and the other straight so my pussy was agape and my clit just faintly touched the sheets. If I pushed my hips down a fraction I could grind my clit against the mattress and ease the tingle that seemed almost constant lately.

Closing my eyes again I slid my hand down under the covers and I cupped my breast, squeezing my nipple between my fingers. I pressed my hips into the mattress, grinding my clit against it and moaned softly at the feel. My pussy was beginning to moisten and I wanted to touch it so badly, but I knew the door was open and I thought I shouldn't tempt fate so much.

I got the sudden sensation of being watched and opened my eyes to stare at the door. He stood there, leaning against the door frame, his arms folded over his bare chest. He was still in jeans. Whether they were the ones he’d mown the lawn in or a new pair it didn't matter. They hugged his hips and legs so nicely, showing off his impressive bulge; I had to swallow because believe it or not my mouth had begun to water.

The light from the hall shone on his back casting his features in shadows and all I could make out was his gleaming eyes and that predatory smile.

He was the kind of man who never asked for permission. He didn’t wonder what other people wanted nor did he struggle with making “the right” choices. He knew what he wanted and did what he wanted and even the concept of “angst” was foreign to him.

It isn’t that he didn’t care what others wanted or needed from him; this man was very good at reading them. He was a watcher; someone who spoke rarely and listened carefully before making choices or taking action.

Last night, hearing the soft whimper come from behind her door as she had touched herself was only another piece of data for an equation about to be solved.

She lay in the bed unaware of him as he watched her hips circle under the thin white cotton sheet; she was pressing her sex down against the mattress. He watched her.

He made no sound as he watched, but she must have sensed his presence and she turned to look for her audience—knowing already it would be no one else.

He smiled and then walked into the room, not bothering to close the door behind him.

He knew what he wanted; so did she.

Rolling fully on to her back she clutched at the white sheet pulling it up to her chin. Her toes curled still showed at the foot of the bed nearest him and her nipples, hardened under the sheet giving away any hope she might have had at denial.

The look of hunger never left his face. His eyes did not wander up and down her body appraising her, that valuation had long since been done. Instead, without a glance or even a sound, he simply lowered his hands, hard and calloused, darkened from working in the sun and building things to the sheet and bunched the cotton fabric. There was no doubt that in one movement he could have stripped her modesty from her.

The pull was relentless, but not strong enough to stubbornly fight off if she really tried.

He forced her to give in, to choose him inch by inch as the sheet slipped lower. He drained any resistance to him one handful of soft woven white fabric at a time.

She fought the hardest as the sheet reached her waist even as her thighs parted under what was left of the sheet.

His eyes still did not roam her body, but stayed locked to her face.
Finally the last barrier lay piled on the floor, the last hope for propriety gone with the last shred of resistance.

She should want it dark, but she didn't. Finally his eyes moved from her face to her body and back up again, assesing her as a piece of art.

She saw his lips part and the smile evaporate, not because he wasnt pleased with what he saw, but because he did. Just as the sheet had left her bare to him, her body had left his face bare to her.

It was then in his face, she saw how beautiful she was.

The expression on his face was magic.

The deepest sort of magic that has existed since man and woman were created for each other. The kind of magic the battle of Troy was waged for, that gives poets and song writers purpose. It was the kind of magic she found in a small room with sunlight illuminating dust motes dancing in the air and a rumpled pile of sheet pooled on the floor at the foot of her bed. It was a silent magic that resulted in the same music playing in two souls.

The wall in her mind and her heart collapsed; not with an explosion, or brick by mortared brick as she thought it might happen one day if she ever met the “right” man.

It simply evaporated without regret or recrimination. Not even the tattered remnants of a foundation laid over so many years of one relationship mistake after another remained for her to blame herself for, or hide from him.

The tears started then.

He didn’t pull back, or blame himself or even ask any questions. He simply walked to her, wrapped her in his arms and held her.

The touching, licking, sucking and, OH GOD, the fucking would come later, but in this moment, he held her and it was perfect.

He began to kiss the tears away; each tender pressing of his lips causing a shift in her belly and reminding her that she was naked in this man’s enfolding arms.

Her hands which had been holding on to the anchor his body had provided began to feel the skin of his back. He was a monument to a life of hard labor, broad shoulders and smooth muscle worked under his tanned skin as she slid the pads of her fingers up and down his back bone.

She no longer shed tears to be kissed, but his kisses continued. Her forehead and cheeks having been tenderly kissed, his lips moved to her jaw line.

Passion began to awake in her. Not the selfish need for release, but the flame of desire to be coupled with him, intimate.

Grasping his head, burying her fingers in the thick dark hair she held him still and moved her lips to his with an urgency he recognized and responded to.

This was no tender soft kiss. It was a claiming kiss. It was the first, last kiss of her life. Neither one of them controlled or was controlled—they both gave in wholly to it.

When he finally pulled back, she shuddered in a deep nearly gasping breath and realized for the first time in her life she was completely alive.

His eyes shone back at her with more than love though, the greed and desire for her flesh was betrayed there as well as in the hands now grasping her shoulders and pulling her back for another kiss.

Even as their lips met her hands sought out the buttons on his jeans because her hunger for him was as great as his was for her.

 

[RyanBlack]

I giggle like a fool every time you call me that.

I like that

 

[Lorilei]

He began to kiss the tears away; each tender pressing of his lips causing a shift in her belly and reminding her that she was naked in this man’s enfolding arms.

Her hands which had been holding on to the anchor his body had provided began to feel the skin of his back. He was a monument to a life of hard labor, broad shoulders and smooth muscle worked under his tanned skin as she slid the pads of her fingers up and down his back bone.

She no longer shed tears to be kissed, but his kisses continued. Her forehead and cheeks having been tenderly kissed, his lips moved to her jaw line.

Passion began to awake in her. Not the selfish need for release, but the flame of desire to be coupled with him, intimate.

Grasping his head, burying her fingers in the thick dark hair she held him still and moved her lips to his with an urgency he recognized and responded to.

This was no tender soft kiss. It was a claiming kiss. It was the first, last kiss of her life. Neither one of them controlled or was controlled—they both gave in wholly to it.

When he finally pulled back, she shuddered in a deep nearly gasping breath and realized for the first time in her life she was completely alive.

His eyes shone back at her with more than love though, the greed and desire for her flesh was betrayed there as well as in the hands now grasping her shoulders and pulling her back for another kiss.

Even as their lips met her hands sought out the buttons on his jeans because her hunger for him was as great as his was for her.

Beautiful.

 

[agedmac]

Gasp

He looked up in wonder at her eyes. They were shining, a bit of tear slipping down her cheek. Her mouth was open in a tiny oval, her lovely lipstick just a tad smeared on the edges. Her cheeks were crimson and her neck was flushed.

All that was beautiful, but he had looked up because she had.... well, he thought she had....

gasped.

His tongue extended again and licked slowly through the delicate soft puff of hair above her mound wetting it. Again she arched and her beautiful bottom came up in the air and he slipped his hands around those soft globes to grasp and hold her.

And she gasped again.

He curled his tongue and moved ever lower. Her soft lips were covered in a soft dew, a glaze of moisture like the beauty of a field on a cool spring morning.

He rolled through her opening and softly touched...there.... and there.

And she gasped again and a tiny soft meewing came from deep within her.

She could never know. She could never understand what a beautiful sound it was to him. That emotion in heart and soul.

That gasp of joy.

That gasp of emotion.

Gasp of heat and desire.

Gasp of surrender.

As he slide his tongue just inside those soft wet lips.

Ah, could she ever know it is the music of beauty. Of love. Of passion.

Gasp.

He thought again, I can dine here forever to that musical symphony.

Gasp

 

[Lorilei]

Mac - Oh. Em. Gee.

That made me squirm!

 

[lance gt]

His hands pulled her face to him, without hesitation, she came to him.

this is all just a dream to me, none of this can be real. For long, yearning years my heart has hoped to feel these feelings, hear these words spoken to me.

His breath caressing her passions, had her feeling so alive again.

All the questions in my mind are racing with urgency to be answered. Can this be real? Can this be the man I've dreamt of, lusted for in my fantasies, ached for in my heart?

His lips touched her neck, shivers raced along her as she felt the heat of his love burning her.

Please be real, sweet man. Don't injure my heart by leaving me. Let me keep you in my heart forever and feel you there.

His fingers streaked through her silken hair, delighting the nerves with his touch.

I want him so badly, do I dare give all of my heart to him? Will he love me? Will he cherish me and adore me? I can't believe how good he makes me feel. I never knew what I wanted could feel this good. I'm scared.

His lips find hers, softly pressing his heat into hers. His arms, wrapped in an embrace of romantic bliss, pressed her to his body. Breaths, loud and full of energy, relayed the internal lust seething in them.

Yes, oh yes my sweet lover, I want to be yours. I can feel you inside me, becoming a part of me. I'm still so scared of you though. My heart is pounding madly with confused thoughts. Can I trust you? I want to so badly but can I?

His hands, roaming freely over her body, excited every nerve in her. Her gossamer layer unravelling and floating away, baring her to him. Smooth, flowing strokes covered her flesh, inciting a riot of emotion in her.

I will. I will let him have me, all of me. I don't care what my mind says, I want him. Love me my Darling. Take me to where ever you want as long as it's with you. You make me feel so alive and lusted for. Please love me long and hard. I so need a release from the tormenting desires I've held in me for so long.
He swooped her legs from under her, causing her to hold tight to his neck. His muscular arms easily holding her, spun her around so she faced him. His hands urged at her to wrap her legs around him, hold o to him. Her needs for fulfillment giving her the knowledge to understand his request.

Yes, take me like this. Take me and make love to me. I want to give myself to you what ever way you'll have me. I'll try to do anything you ask of me. Please be patient with me sweet man. As much as I long to love like this, I have never known it. Show me what it is you want of me and I'll do it, gladly.
His strong hands cupped the firm, taut skin of her globing mounds, guiding her, positioning her to himself for unification, complete impalement.

I'm ready for you my Darling, I will take you inside of me and enjoy you. I want to feel you fill me with your lust and passions. I want you to show me your love of my body and how it pleases you. I'm wet, I can feel it inside me, preparing for you.

His rigidity poised, he looked into her eyes deeply, fixing himself into her soul. Soft parting leads to gentle invasion. he lowers her slowly onto himself. Inch after inch completing the journey into her.

I love you. with all my heart, I've never felt anything so wonderful. I love how you fill me inside. I love the fullness and the way you make the emptiness disappear. Take me, all of me. Anything I am is yours from this moment.

His hands provide the gentle movement she needs to feel him, impaling her sex with his. She sheds her dew in response to him, giving him her delicacies of love.

fill me, fill me with your hot seed Baby. Spatter my insides with your cream. Let me feel it wash through me and coat my soul with you. This is so not real. How can anything this incredibly wonderful be real?

His hands clasp tight to you in readiness, his thrusts indeterminate, struggling for control. She prepares for him. To take him and savour his warmth. Eternal moments pass, each one emblazened into her, into them.

Yes, I love him. All of him. I want this feeling to last forever and never stop. Please God, don't ever let this stop. I'll die if I never feel this again. Please let him whisper those words I need to hear him say. The ones that make this right, make it real.

His thrusts complete, their union sated, he lies her on the bed. Parted, yet still united in their passion, she looks to him, eyes searching, wanting. He looks back, deep into her eyes, her soul bared for him to see. Smiles play across their lips, their hearts knowing what is true. All her heart's moments are met in seconds
as he whispers,

"I Love You."

 

[Rikki_13]

frantic

It has been awhile since I have posted anything to lit or been on lit. Apparently the horny thoughts and fantasies I have continue to assault me!!! Here is one of those torturing thoughts I have been having lately... maybe they will torture you a little bit too

 

[Rikki_13]

frantic

posted twice by accident. stupid computer froze.

 

[funluvinaj]

The expression on his face was magic.

The deepest sort of magic that has existed since man and woman were created for each other. The kind of magic the battle of Troy was waged for, that gives poets and song writers purpose. It was the kind of magic she found in a small room with sunlight illuminating dust motes dancing in the air and a rumpled pile of sheet pooled on the floor at the foot of her bed. It was a silent magic that resulted in the same music playing in two souls.

The wall in her mind and her heart collapsed; not with an explosion, or brick by mortared brick as she thought it might happen one day if she ever met the “right” man.

It simply evaporated without regret or recrimination. Not even the tattered remnants of a foundation laid over so many years of one relationship mistake after another remained for her to blame herself for, or hide from him.

The tears started then.

He didn’t pull back, or blame himself or even ask any questions. He simply walked to her, wrapped her in his arms and held her.

The touching, licking, sucking and, OH GOD, the fucking would come later, but in this moment, he held her and it was perfect.

wow... your writing has always moved me in predictable ways, but this pretty much rendered me speechless and brought tears to my eyes. Your characters are so real. Thank you for sharing your amazing gift...

 

[RyanBlack]

wow... your writing has always moved me in predictable ways, but this pretty much rendered me speechless and brought tears to my eyes. Your characters are so real. Thank you for sharing your amazing gift...

Thank you for such high praise
But what are predictable ways???--or is that another story???

 

[funluvinaj]

Thank you for such high praise
But what are predictable ways???--or is that another story???

oh like you don't know exactly where your stories take us??? you are a bright man, I'm certain you'll figure it out.

 

[RyanBlack]

oh like you don't know exactly where your stories take us??? you are a bright man, I'm certain you'll figure it out.

who me??? bright??? you must have me confused with someone else

all the blood rushes from my brain to elsewhere leaving me somewhat of a dullard--confused with a mushy brain. . .

though now that you mention it. . . . wait---what were we talking about???

 

[funluvinaj]

who me??? bright??? you must have me confused with someone else

all the blood rushes from my brain to elsewhere leaving me somewhat of a dullard--confused with a mushy brain. . .

though now that you mention it. . . . wait---what were we talking about???

brat.

 

[RyanBlack]

brat.

seemed like a fair question. . . besides you are the one who brought it up

 

[funluvinaj]

seemed like a fair question. . . besides you are the one who brought it up

well then... I'll just leave it at your writing has inspired my hands to wander on more than one occasion...

 

[RyanBlack]

well then... I'll just leave it at your writing has inspired my hands to wander on more than one occasion...

MWAHHAHAHAHAH there is no finer compliment to a writer than that

and see what you inspired in me next

 

[RyanBlack]

Here's your pic posted....

http://www.photorox.com/images/kimi81/85511825full983300fa0629ca160b3e4e5265476ff6.jpg

Predictable ways . . . .

Stella was Predictable. It was Tuesday. She always wore yellow on tuedsays.

The sun was bright and she leaned back against the stone wall and unbuttoned another button on her blouse--it was clear to the young men sitting on the grass across the sidewalk that she was not wearing a bra.

Everyday after class she came here and sat on the wall.

Before long word must have spread and what was at first only one or two college students had now become dozens. Some stared unabashadly, others were surreptitious with their glances.

She didnt watch them after her first casual and assessing glance. She leaned her head back, closed her eyes and basked in the warm caresses of the sun on her face.

Slowly she spread her legs, not crassly, but just enough--the short skirt--one of dozens she owned slit upward, drawn by a couple of fingers. They slipped down to glide only once across her pussy.

When she was sure the had all seen the pretty yellow panties, and begun to lust and fantasize, to harden in their jeans and shorts and sweats, she stood up and with out looking back, returned to her apartment.

In minutes, her panties were pulled aside and her fingers were busily dancing across her sex. Today she hadnt even made it to her bed, but was instead slumped against her closed front door.

The orgasm shuddered through her as she imagined being the fantasy for so many men who would be stroking, pulling and pounding their hands up and down their cocks. She imagined cum exploding from those beautiful hard dicks as images of her danced in their minds.

Tomorrow was Wednesday and she always wore pink on Wednesdays. They would know what to look for, to wait for. Men were so predictable.

 

[funluvinaj]

Predictable ways . . . .

Stella was Predictable. It was Tuesday. She always wore yellow on tuedsays.

The sun was bright and she leaned back against the stone wall and unbuttoned another button on her blouse--it was clear to the young men sitting on the grass across the sidewalk that she was not wearing a bra.

Everyday after class she came here and sat on the wall.

Before long word must have spread and what was at first only one or two college students had now become dozens. Some stared unabashadly, others were surreptitious with their glances.

She didnt watch them after her first casual and assessing glance. She leaned her head back, closed her eyes and basked in the warm caresses of the sun on her face.

Slowly she spread her legs, not crassly, but just enough--the short skirt--one of dozens she owned slit upward, drawn by a couple of fingers. They slipped down to glide only once across her pussy.

When she was sure the had all seen the pretty yellow panties, and begun to lust and fantasize, to harden in their jeans and shorts and sweats, she stood up and with out looking back, returned to her apartment.

In minutes, her panties were pulled aside and her fingers were busily dancing across her sex. Today she hadnt even made it to her bed, but was instead slumped against her closed front door.

The orgasm shuddered through her as she imagined being the fantasy for so many men who would be stroking, pulling and pounding their hands up and down their cocks. She imagined cum exploding from those beautiful hard dicks as images of her danced in their minds.

Tomorrow was Wednesday and she always wore pink on Wednesdays. They would know what to look for, to wait for. Men were so predictable.

I'd like to watch the men and handful of women watch her... now that would be a study in the human condition. A side note... pink is a wonderful color ANY day of the week.

 

[RyanBlack]

I'd like to watch the men and handful of women watch her... now that would be a study in the human condition. A side note... pink is a wonderful color ANY day of the week.

watching the watchers???? could be interesting, but thats another story. . . .

 

[RyanBlack]

His hands pulled her face to him, without hesitation, she came to him.

this is all just a dream to me, none of this can be real. For long, yearning years my heart has hoped to feel these feelings, hear these words spoken to me.

"I Love You."

Lance I was already to sit down and write out the last part of the exercise I was working on--but dicided to read yours first. After reading I just decided that whether you like it or not--Im stealing it and just making it the last installment. Its perfect.

Great work!

It has been awhile since I have posted anything to lit or been on lit. Apparently the horny thoughts and fantasies I have continue to assault me!!! Here is one of those torturing thoughts I have been having lately... maybe they will torture you a little bit too


It all started simply enough, I had told him once that I loved to be teased and tormented throughout the day sexually before we had sex later. For me, it made the sex so much better. ...

But, that part of the story will have to wait...

Rikki!
Im so glad you came back to post this! What a great concept and story. I really enjoy tremendously everything you write--it always inspires me to try and write better.

 

[misfortunex]

He began to kiss the tears away; each tender pressing of his lips causing a shift in her belly and reminding her that she was naked in this man’s enfolding arms.

Her hands which had been holding on to the anchor his body had provided began to feel the skin of his back. He was a monument to a life of hard labor, broad shoulders and smooth muscle worked under his tanned skin as she slid the pads of her fingers up and down his back bone.

She no longer shed tears to be kissed, but his kisses continued. Her forehead and cheeks having been tenderly kissed, his lips moved to her jaw line.

Passion began to awake in her. Not the selfish need for release, but the flame of desire to be coupled with him, intimate.

Grasping his head, burying her fingers in the thick dark hair she held him still and moved her lips to his with an urgency he recognized and responded to.

This was no tender soft kiss. It was a claiming kiss. It was the first, last kiss of her life. Neither one of them controlled or was controlled—they both gave in wholly to it.

When he finally pulled back, she shuddered in a deep nearly gasping breath and realized for the first time in her life she was completely alive.

His eyes shone back at her with more than love though, the greed and desire for her flesh was betrayed there as well as in the hands now grasping her shoulders and pulling her back for another kiss.

Even as their lips met her hands sought out the buttons on his jeans because her hunger for him was as great as his was for her.

just wonderful Ryan

As ever......

 

[RyanBlack]

just wonderful Ryan

As ever......

I am glad you like it ma'am

I enjoyed writing it. . . got anymore ideas????

 

[lance gt]

Lance I was already to sit down and write out the last part of the exercise I was working on--but dicided to read yours first. After reading I just decided that whether you like it or not--Im stealing it and just making it the last installment. Its perfect.

Great work!

Ryan, if any of my thoughts and words can inspire you to keep writing such a great vignette, be my guest and use what you wish. There is certainly enough of them out there to use and draw from.

Looking forward to the climax of the story, so get writing!!

 

[agedmac]

Predictable ways . . . .

Stella was Predictable. It was Tuesday. She always wore yellow on tuedsays.

The sun was bright and she leaned back against the stone wall and unbuttoned another button on her blouse--it was clear to the young men sitting on the grass across the sidewalk that she was not wearing a bra.

Everyday after class she came here and sat on the wall.

Before long word must have spread and what was at first only one or two college students had now become dozens. Some stared unabashadly, others were surreptitious with their glances.

She didnt watch them after her first casual and assessing glance. She leaned her head back, closed her eyes and basked in the warm caresses of the sun on her face.

Slowly she spread her legs, not crassly, but just enough--the short skirt--one of dozens she owned slit upward, drawn by a couple of fingers. They slipped down to glide only once across her pussy.

When she was sure the had all seen the pretty yellow panties, and begun to lust and fantasize, to harden in their jeans and shorts and sweats, she stood up and with out looking back, returned to her apartment.

In minutes, her panties were pulled aside and her fingers were busily dancing across her sex. Today she hadnt even made it to her bed, but was instead slumped against her closed front door.

The orgasm shuddered through her as she imagined being the fantasy for so many men who would be stroking, pulling and pounding their hands up and down their cocks. She imagined cum exploding from those beautiful hard dicks as images of her danced in their minds.

Tomorrow was Wednesday and she always wore pink on Wednesdays. They would know what to look for, to wait for. Men were so predictable.

bowing to the master... I think you captured the woman in the pic so much more than I. She is powerful and strong and this act is hers. Good stuff!

 

[lance gt]

At 9:30 precisely, a messenger arrived at the front desk of J.L. Harrison, General Contractor. Signing for it, the 30's blonde receptionist took the envelope and brought it into her Boss's office and closed the door, locking it with an imperceptible click.

She walked in deliberate moves, knowing her seduction was always welcome, focusing on him as he wrote. Standing before him, she pulled her short skirt higher, revealing more of her slim, firm thighs, drawing his attention from his desk.

"This just came by messenger, it's marked urgent and to be read immediately." Her skirt inching higher to expose the mound of her panty-clad pussy, his eyes focusing on her.

"Ok, let me see it. Who's it from?" His words automatic, his eyes still glued to the ever expanding view of his receptionist's white laced delta.

Interminably wanting to keep his eyes on her, he opened the letter and saw the first few lines and focused more on it. Seeing his attention wan, she pulled the sides of her panties together, offering a tempting view of her sex, but to no avail. His hand raising to her made her stop any further advancement.

He kept reading intently as the words captured him by wht they said.

Dear John,

I think that's one the biggest jokes about this. I wanted to get this to you as soon as I could, because this is a time sensitive letter. You know that wonderful wife you had at home? The one you ignored and cheated on? Guess what? She's with me. I know who's there with you now, probably has her skirt off now or close to it, if she's true to form. Please enjoy her, because the woman I have now is giving all her love to me. That would be your soon to be ex-wife.

Remember how you used to look at her when you were fucking her, she'd be trying to hold back from screaming out, never could get her to, could you. That's because it's my name she'd be calling out. How does it feel to know all the times you touched her and kissed her, every time you fucked her, she was thinking it was me doing it, just so she could enjoy it with you.

I never met a woman with so much passion and willingness to experience life. You never gave her the time of day to find out who she is. You took her for granted to stay at home and be there at your beck and call. Oh what you didn't find out about her.

Want to know something else John? Remember how you tried for years took take her ass cherry and she said never to you every time? You should see how much she loves doing it with me. Just thought I'd share that with you.

There's so much I'd love to just say about you and the slut who's standing beside you, but it should be coming up on 9:45 and I know your window faces the airport. So if you hurry, you'll see us taking off and leaving your sorry ass behind. We're in the front, first class, three windows back, see us waving at you, you pathetic piece of shit. You and your skank slut for a receptionist.

By the way, my lawyer will be sending over the documents for you to sign as well as some nice copies of you and her enjoying some 'business' activities.

Yours truly,

her ex-husband


He lowered the letter and hurried to the window. Glancing at the clock he saw he was on time. He watched as a large jet rose into the sky, straining at it for clarity. In his mind he was sure he could see movement at the window in the letter, but it could just be his guilt now coming to his focus.

She stood beside him and watched together. He turned to her, looking at the letter again. His lustful joys of her no longer brought him the happiness. In moments, all the enjoyment of her dwindled, leaving her as two-dimensional as the person she was.

He turned back to the sky and watched the small dot get fainter and disappear. Knowing his life was going to do the same.