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Amanda's Confession--The Massage
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Amanda's Confession--The Massage Here's a story that really got me going: They say love is blind. Well! I don’t know about that, but what I can sure as hell tell you is that, on that day back in May, I was certainly blinded by lust. It all happened one beautiful, sunny afternoon. Summer was well and truly on its way and the world somehow seemed a better place for it. It had been a lovely warm day and a gentle breeze teased its way along the avenue, carrying with it the scent of newly mown grass and the first blooms of honeysuckle. I had just finished off a particularly grueling workout at the gym and was heading for home. I was certainly burning off more than a few calories dancing at the club, but as I am sure you can imagine, it was really important for me to keep my entire body in great shape and what seemed to work for me were regular yoga classes alongside a few hours of weight training in the gym, besides…since joining Hedonism Inc. I was able to realise a life long dream and become a member of an incredibly swish health club. You know…the kind of place that makes you feel as though you are someone really special the moment you walk through the doors. Being a member had other compensations too, as there were more than a few particularly cute boys and girls to keep you coming back for more. More about those little adventures some other time however. The story I am about to tell you still makes me blush to this very day, but I do love it and my mind often takes me back there when I am soaking in a hot bubble bath, or lying beneath a soft cotton sheet, unable to sleep because of a certain little tingly sensation in my body. I had sweated my way through a nice, long workout and had eaten a light lunch at the health club and now was heading home with the view to catching up on some of the schoolwork I was falling behind with. At this stage, I was still studying, but life as a Hedonism girl was really beginning to run away with me and it would not be long before I put my studies on hold for a while. As I strolled along the street, peering into the shop windows and desperately trying to convince myself that I really did need yet another pair of sexy, strappy high heels, I became aware of how tight my shoulder muscles felt. This was nothing unusual as a dancer, as any of the girls will tell you. However, I had hoped to have stretched away the strain at my yoga class earlier that morning, but if anything things had taken a turn for the worse. Despite the heat of the day, I resolved to slip into a hot bath when I got home – and perhaps think of that cute brunette in those oh-so-tight, little shorts – when I spotted the sign. I must have passed it a thousand times, but had never noticed it properly before, who knows…perhaps it was fate calling this day. “Catald Therapeutic Massage Centre,” it read in big, bold lettering. Jessica, one of the girls at work, had told me about this place. She was a regular visitor. Apparently it was staffed by blind masseurs, all fully trained and quite excellent at their jobs. She swore she had experienced the best massages of her life with them and that afterwards she felt as though she were walking on air. As I stood there, rubbing at the tight cords of my shoulder muscles, the idea of having a good, firm pair of hands kneading warm massage oil into my knotted back muscles – and who knows…perhaps a little elsewhere too – became rather appealing. I stepped through the door, hearing it chime a welcoming ‘ping’ from a little, brass bell, and climbed my way up the stairs to the reception area. An attractive, older lady, in her sixties, I would have guessed, looked up at me from behind her desk and smiled a welcoming smile at me. “Good afternoon dear,” she greeted. “How may I help you?” “Hello there. My name’s Mandy…I was really hoping I might be lucky enough to grab a quick treatment this afternoon, if there was anything going that is?” I asked hopefully, deciding schoolwork could wait. “Well let’s have a look and see shall we,” she smiled. “Ooh! I don’t suppose you could do forty minutes time could you? Michael has had a last minute cancellation.” “Wow that would be wonderful.” I declared beaming, booking myself in and promising to be back shortly. I popped into one of those little Italian coffee shops and grabbed a quick espresso. Me being me, I couldn’t help let my mind wander as I sat there sipping the sharp, black coffee at a pavement table. Michael eh? I thought. I wonder if he’s handsome. I felt that all too familiar tingling, you know where and chastised myself. I was there for the sake of my back and besides…the poor boy was blind. He probably didn’t need seducing by some horny chick on a mission, no matter how cute she was or how much she would blow his mind from the experiences they might share. The minutes ticked by and I felt my poor little pussy pulsing away as I eyed the cute girls and boys passing along the pavement before me and soon enough it was time to get back to the clinic. I didn’t bother to tip the, oh-so-charming yet oh-so-sleazy, waiter for my coffee. I just flashed him a devastating ‘horny little Mandy’ smile that he could have much more fun thinking about later than any pleasure he could glean from ten percent gratuity. When I got back to the massage centre the lovely lady smiled up at me… “Just go on through to the treatment room Amanda and strip down. Pop this towel around you and Michael will be with you shortly,” she said, handing me a fluffy white towel. I thanked her and stepped towards the appropriate room, turning the door handle and stepping through. “He is very good you know,” she said from behind me and I turned to see what I could have sworn was a naughty little glint in her eye. I liked this lady and I simply grinned back at her and walked further into the room, shutting the door behind me. He’s very good is he? I pondered to myself, again aware of my tight, little pussy throbbing its displeasure at being ignored. I stood in front of a nice, full-length mirror and began to remove my clothes. Nothing glamorous today I am afraid. I was wearing a pair of jogging bottoms and a tight cotton camisole. My hair was up in a ponytail and still a little damp from my post workout shower. I was wearing no makeup, but had that glow you get after a good exercise session – not as pretty as that other post workout glow we all know about, but looking good nonetheless. I plonked down my bag and stared at my reflection as I began to undress. First, I slipped off my Birkenstocks, quickly followed by my jogging pants. I did my usual trick of teasing myself, getting all hot and bothered in unfamiliar surroundings. I slipped down the simple, black, lycra thong I was wearing and stood there, admiring my new bikini wax – I had opted for a ‘Brazilian’ this time – and actually allowed myself to part my thighs and test the wetness with my fingertips. I thought about ‘Michael’ surprising me and catching me teasing my cunt in his mirror and slipped two fingers deep inside of myself. It was bliss…it was ecstasy to play with my hot little pussy right there, right then, so close to being caught and I tossed my head as my naughty fingers slipped in and out. I brought myself back down to earth with a shuddering exhalation and laughed at my foolishness, imagining being caught by a blind man indeed! Not knowing what to do with them, I quickly licked my sticky fingers clean, tasting my fresh juices and giggling at my cheek. Just then there was a knock at the door and I reflexively pulled the towel around my waist. It was a pretty small towel, all things considered, but as I still had my top on – and the fact that my masseur couldn’t see a fucking thing of course – I shouted, “Come on in.” The door opened and in he stepped. I understood immediately why the receptionist had a little thing for him. He was pretty damn handsome, I must say. About 28 I would have guessed. He had short blondish hair; you know the sort, the ‘surfer dude’ look, sun bleached and somewhat disheveled. He had a good, strong jaw line, which was flecked with golden, blonde stubble – the naughty boy hadn’t shaved today, but looked all the better for it. His face was tanned a natural, healthy brown. His mouth was wide and his lips were quite full, but rather chapped from what I would guess to be too long spent outdoors. As he stepped towards me he smiled, displaying two rows of beautifully white teeth. Most noticeable of all however were his dark glasses. I always imagined blind people wearing those big, heavy, plastic affairs, but Michael was wearing very cool, wayfarer style shades, which were very much back in fashion. Why the hell not? I chastised myself. He has as much right to be fashion conscious as the rest of us. Michael was a very handsome man and I seriously started to plan my seduction. A plan that would fly out of the window some 45 minutes later. He extended a hand and I took it, cheekily aware that my fingers were still a little moist from my fun. He had a wonderful handshake and I knew I was gonna have a great time, it was strong, the skin a little dry, but soft with it and his palms exuded a kind of warm power. I felt a bit weird stood there with nothing but a towel wrapped around my waist and my black, cotton camisole, but you know me, I couldn’t help getting a little more turned on by my near nakedness. I was actually contemplating how to make the towel ‘accidentally’ fall away when, once more, I had to remind myself that Michael was blind and would not be able to appreciate my little show. He introduced himself – he had a very subtle, but rather sexy Australian accent – and asked how he could help me. I explained that my shoulders were tight, but that I could really do with a full rub down, fluttering my eyelashes pointlessly. He told me that would be no problem and suggested I lay on his treatment couch when I was quite ready. Now this is naughty, but classic me. As I stood there facing this handsome young man, I slowly began to draw my camisole upwards, exposing my golden brown tummy, nice and smooth, but with that tiny swell I love. I pulled it higher, staring at him and revealing the lower curve of my breasts and then little by little, my soft pink nipples all pouting and ready to be teased. I finally whipped my top above my head and tossed it towards my other clothes. My pussy ached to be teased as I exposed my upper body. I was even naughty enough to take my nipples between thumb and forefingers and pull at them, feeling them grow yet tighter in my grip, biting against my soft lips as I stared straight at the handsome masseur. If only he knew what I was doing, I thought. He might grab me and bend me over his treatment couch lift up my towel and fuck me the way a naughty girl deserves to be fucked. But…of course he didn’t know what I was doing and it was really no good at all, me playing games. I was here for a massage and was quite sure I could get his number afterwards with very little effort at all. I would give Michael a special dance, but the rules would have to change of course…he would be allowed to touch me anywhere and everywhere, just so he could read my body you understand. I quickly lay myself down on his massage table, slotting my face into the cradle and relaxing my body as best I could. The bench purred into action as Michael raised it to a suitable height. “Alright Amanda…let’s see what your body needs shall we?” he suggested and my poor, swollen clit pulsed, letting me know exactly what it needed. I moaned a tiny moan as his warm, dry fingertips lighted across my shoulders. They slipped expertly across my body applying pressure at certain points, slipping along tight muscles and between ribs. I was pleasantly shocked when his fingertips pressed against my bottom and slipped lower still across the back of my thighs and all the way down to my feet. “Ok Amanda! I think I’ve got you read. You are either a seriously dangerous kung fu expert or a dancer, but wait…don’t tell me,” he said, quickly stepping to the head of the table and taking my hands in his, stoking them so wonderfully along each finger. “Just as I thought,” he continued. “If you are a kung fu killer you only use your feet so I am gonna take a wild guess and say you dance for a living.” He was so sweet, boy-like in a way and I couldn’t wait to open my legs wide for him and guide is big, stiff cock inside of my hot, wet cunt. “How did you know?” I asked. “You get used to treating dancers in this game. I can tell by how tight certain muscles are, how developed are others, and how umm…well contoured a dancer’s physique is.” “Yes, but do you know what kind of a dancer I am?” I asked, mildly shocked at how flirtatious I had become so soon. “Ah well…now that’s a little more difficult,” he replied. Touch between my legs, I willed. Feel how smooth my waxed pussy lips are, how expertly trimmed my little bush is. Smell behind my ear and you will smell sex. I strip myself naked for money. Sometimes I allow myself to be taken… sometimes I give myself willingly. Test me and you will know exactly what I do and what I can do, just for you. “Whatever your style is I am sure you are very good at it. Your body is beautifully developed, but I am glad you came to see me before you pulled a muscle. I’ll get you nice and relaxed and you will feel like a new woman in no time.” I liked the idea of feeling like a new woman, but I really wanted to feel a new man…this new man to be precise and I wanted to feel him in so many very naughty ways. I lay there and listened as he poured massage oil between his palms, rubbing them together creating a delicious, slippery wet, squelching sound. The oil smelled wonderful and I swear I relaxed a little from the aroma alone. I could sense grapefruit and sandalwood, but there was more, something indefinable, but wonderfully calming. To this day, whatever that aroma was, whenever I sense the merest hint of it, my mind will be transported back to Michael and I will smile. As he pressed the heels of his palms against my upper back and slid his hands upwards across my shoulders I moaned involuntarily. I had been quite unaware of how tight my body had become and this man’s touch was something rather special. He instinctively knew where every knot, every tight spot was and he worked them with the precision of a master craftsman. I cried out time and time again as Michael’s fingers worked their magic. At times the sensation was almost painful and would cause my head to swim, at others he would press down against me with such pressure that the breath would be forced from my lungs, but it always felt so damn good. I didn’t care about what I must sound like, I purred and I gasped, I moaned and I cried out as I felt years of tension worked from my body. Time disappeared as he treated my back and shoulders, my neck and my arms. His hands worked their way down to mine, where his fingers interlocked with my own and smeared them in the sweet scented oils. I felt wonderful. I had entirely forgotten how I had naughtily turned myself on and was in a state of blissful relaxation, but then…Michael moved lower. He moved on to my calf muscles and pressed his thumbs deeply into them. “Mmm.” I purred, as the tension I was unaware of suffering was teased from my body. He began to sweep his hands higher, long, upward strokes pressing deep into the muscle. God he felt good! In time he moved higher still, beyond my knees and kneading his strong fingers hard against the taught muscles at the rear of my thighs – if you squatted and raised yourself in stiletto heels as many times as I did in an evening, you would have super tense thigh muscles too. His touch felt so very, very good. Time and time again he oiled his palms with the wonderfully aromatic blend, smearing it across my naked flesh. His fingers were warm and remarkably soft, but so very strong. He worked deep into my thigh muscles, at times almost painfully so, but my body, ultimately felt completely relaxed. His fingers ceaselessly moved higher and higher and although his massaging felt quite wonderful, I couldn’t help feeling a delicious thrill, as I knew how close his fingers were to that area that was crying out to be touched. With each long, soothing stroke of his fingers, I felt Michael reach closer and closer to the curve of my ass. The massage was truly wonderful, but naughty Amanda was returning and I teased my lip between my teeth as I imagined his fingers reaching that little higher still, slipping between my legs and massaging my hot, swollen mound. I couldn’t help myself, I parted my legs just a little and then it happened… Michael’s fingertips pressed against the lower edge of my ass and I let out an involuntary gasp. He moved his fingers away quickly, as though burned, but again, slowly and tentatively his sweeping palms touched against me. This time, however, he spoke… “Umm. If you don’t mind Amanda…I suspect your gluteal muscles are at least as tense as the rest of your body. I could work on them a little if you would like?” My tight little cunt pulsed at the idea of having this handsome young man play with my ass. “I think that’s a good idea Michael. Thank you,” I replied, barely able to contain the excitement from my voice. With one, swift movement I felt the towel covering my behind lifted away where it was gathered, unceremoniously, about my waist. My backside was entirely exposed now and would have been quite the view if the poor boy could have seen me. “A little more oil I think,” he declared as I heard him reach for the bottle. I gasped as I felt the trickle of cool massage oil pour between my ass cheeks. “Oh I am so sorry Amanda!” he declared. “Sometimes I have terribly bad aim.” It was hard to believe, but the poor boy was blind after all and the sensation of the slippery liquid sliding between my cheeks, teasing its way over my little hole and caressing between my aching pussy lips was quite wonderful. I released a raw, passionate moan from the back of my throat, but it was far too quiet for Michael to appreciate the pleasure he had accidentally given me. I cried out softly as his oily palms pressed against my ass cheeks and began to move, coating my soft flesh thoroughly. He began to knead a little deeper and again, instinctively knew where to find the tension. His slippery hands worked deeper and deeper, in opposing circles. I felt my cheeks parted and closed with every sweep of his hands. I knew that my naked pussy would be entirely exposed to him as his hands moved away from each other and my clitoris pulsed. I moaned as I felt my lips part so gently as his thumbs swept upwards against the swell off my behind. This was quite outrageous. If Michael had not been blind it would really have been too much, but the massage was so wonderful and the sensation of my wet slit being teased open and shut was such a sweet frustration. I longed for his fingers to slip deeper inside, to part me completely and to glide in and out of my wet hole. I had planned to seduce Michael, but he had beaten me to it without even realizing that he had done so. I groaned aloud as I imagined him spanking me for my impure thoughts, my oily ass slapping loud against his fingertips as he rained down strike after strike. My bum would burn hot with my punishment and given the thoughts in my mind I truly deserved to be disciplined. Each hot, searing slap would send delicious, burning pain deep within my pussy, a pain that would only be soothed if he were to finger me afterwards, if he were to lean down and part my cheeks with his thumbs and kiss my sopping wet slit better. I was moaning quite loudly now, he surely must have been able to hear. It was as much the fantasy I had created for myself as it were the expert ministrations of his hands that were causing me to cry out. Of course the poor boy was just doing his job, but I knew if I didn’t find release soon I would simply explode. Unfortunately, me being me…I couldn’t help but seek out that release for myself. Finally and with considerable sadness on my part, Michael’s palms came to a rest against my upper thighs. I willed him to have the impertinence to play with my pussy. All it would take was one of his indescribably dexterous fingers to tease my wet slit, to apply a little pressure to my tight little clit, but he did not. I was so sad that it was over, but just then… “If you would like to slip over onto your back now Amanda, I will do a little work on the front of your legs.” How wonderful, I thought and once again, a wicked idea entered my mind. The towel given to preserve my modesty was gathered uselessly around my waist. I twisted around and lay down on my back. I slipped it over my body, but just a little higher than I really should have. It was covering my breasts and just below my belly button, but my poor little cunt was all naked and exposed before Michael. Of course he didn’t know what he was missing, but as I looked up at his handsome face, his useless eyes hidden behind his dark glasses, I parted my thighs a little and felt tiny, hot pulses fire from between my legs throughout my body. My pretty little pussy was his for the taking if only he knew it. Michael began to work at my feet one at a time, his oily fingers slipping between my toes. He pressed hard into the arches, causing me to cry out and circled softly against the soles. As he finished with one foot and moved to the other I allowed my legs to part that little further still. If only he could have seen what he was missing. My pussy was soft and pouting. It must have been most men’s dream to be presented with a sopping, little cunt like mine. But poor Michael would never know what he could have reached out and taken with absolutely no resistance whatsoever. He laid the second leg down again and I made sure my thighs were nicely parted as he began to work on my calf muscles. He pressed into me in upward strokes and it felt wonderful, but for all the tension that was being eased from my body where Michael had touched, there was a terrible frustration building in me elsewhere. I was biting against my lower lip, my brow furrowed as my pussy begged to be teased and, I am sorry, but I really couldn’t help myself. He moved his attentions to my other leg and repeated the wonderful treatment of my tight calf muscles. I watched him intently as I slowly slipped my hand across my tummy, circling my belly button just once with my index finger, but he did not flinch, why on earth would he? Two fingers slid lower and began to gently caress the sticky hot flesh of my outer lips. It felt so damn good and I shut my eyes allowing my head to fall further backwards. I momentarily wondered what the fuck I thought I was doing, but the sensation of teasing my desperately frustrated cunt while the blind masseur touched me so close by, gave me the answer. I let my fingers part my lips, the soft, pliant flesh yielding to the gentle pressure of my fingertips and the sticky heat of my slit coating my fingers so sweetly as they slid between. “Does that feel nice?” he asked and my eyes flashed open. “I can feel how tense you are and your little moans sound like you are enjoying yourself. “Oh yes Michael! You have no idea,” and he truly didn’t. I was completely unaware that I had been moaning, but I simply smiled, staring straight towards him and began to rub my fingers up and down my slit a little quicker. When I was thoroughly sticky wet with my juices, I allowed my fingers to rise higher still and to seek out my poorly neglected clit. I circled round and around against the little fold of skin, teasing the swollen bud beneath. I looked straight at Michael the whole time and it almost seemed as though he were staring straight back at me. I loved to masturbate in front of other people, but there was something so special about playing with myself so close to a handsome man who would never know it. Not until I whispered it to him anyway. I could feel my body wound tighter and tighter as I rubbed my clit harder and harder. The shocks were firing more deeply now and I found myself stifling desperate cries quite regularly. I pulled at the towel, exposing my breasts and put it to my mouth, biting hard against it. Again, I was powerless to resist as my free hand sought out a tight nipple and began to twist against it. I was breathing desperately through my nostrils, my cries thankfully quieted, but as I felt Michaels’s hot, oiled palms slide above my knee, drawing ever upwards towards my cunt, I threw my head back and moaned deeply. Time and time again he swept his palms upwards. He was so close; if only he had dared he could have taken me. I would let him finger my cunt until I begged to experience his cock, but still he did not. I was entirely naked before him now, my thighs parted wide, my breasts exposed, the soft, pink flesh of my areola pouting and my nipples swollen full and tight. I had one hand teasing my clit and the other playing with my nipples, twisting and pinching urgently. Michael had moved to the other leg now and repeated his strokes, sweeping slippery palms so close to my cunt, but by no means close enough. I sensed the massage would be over soon and the idea of having to leave tenser than when I arrived was too much to bear and I brought both hands down between my thighs. Expertly, I took two fingers and used them to spread my lips. My pussy, as those I have danced a special dance for will tell you, is a pretty little thing. It is nice and tight and quite small, so by parting my lips just a little my clit is released so easily. It can be rather sensitive at times so when it is exposed, I tease it with nothing more than a whisper of a caress before letting it hide away and rubbing it hard over its little hood again. I released my lips and slipped two fingers along my slit to seek out my entrance. I stared up at Michael as his palms slipped ever higher and just as he was so close to touching where I wanted him to touch, I plunged my fingers deep inside, rubbing urgently with the other hand. I arched my back as a monumental shock ripped through my body. I began to fuck myself so very quickly with my fingers. They were hot and slippery with my juices as I frigged my cunt right below Michael’s gaze. Surely he must have sensed the tension in my body as I played the way bad little Mandy likes to play. Surely he must have heard the muffled cries from beneath the towel as I teased my pussy relentlessly. Apparently he did not, as he simply continued his sweeping caress of my thighs. I became aware of the slippery wet sound as my fingers fucked my pussy faster and faster. I no longer cared. Hell! I wanted Michael to know and besides…I was so close to my climax that nothing in the world could stop me now. I alternated flicking my clit from side to side to round and around, all the time letting my fingers slide tight along my inner wall, back and forth. My hand was beginning to ache but it was of no consequence. My body tightened hard and I drew short, desperate breaths through my nose. I cried out into the towel as I felt my pussy tense hard around my fingers. I was cumming. My clit fired lightening like shocks up my spine, causing my head to swim as wave after wave of ice-cold and red-hot pleasure washed over me. I shivered with the thrill of the orgasm enveloping my entire body. I was lost and I sobbed with the beauty and frustration of the experience. As I began to slow, I looked up at Michael through slitted eyes and grinned, my fingers working my pussy once more, but somewhat slower now. Finally with complete satisfaction, I released my clitoris, exhaling a deep, relaxing moan as I slid my soaking wet fingers out of my cunt and lapped at them with long, ice-lolly licking strokes of my tongue. It should have been Michael tasting me, but as his hands worked there way up my thigh one final time, I resolved that I would take him sooner rather than later anyway. I wanted to see what magic those expert fingers could conjure elsewhere on my body and in return, I would make sure that Michael would receive something a little special from me. “That’s you finished then Amanda,” he said and I released a huge sigh. How right he was. My pussy was pink and swollen from my game, but I certainly felt more relaxed than I had done in a long time. “I’ll leave you to get dressed. When you’re done, if you just pop out and settle up with Clare. I’ll come and say goodbye in a moment when I am through cleaning up.” With that Michael disappeared out of a door into what I can only assume was a bathroom of some description. I slid myself from the table, my body buzzing with the kind of relaxed comfort I hadn’t felt in God knows how long. I stared at my naked body in the mirror, all pink and glistening from the massage oil. My eyes were hooded lazily and I had a grin on my face I could not shift, whether it was from the massage or my cheeky tease I couldn’t tell you, but I suspect each played their own part. I quickly slipped on my clothes, grabbed my bag and headed out to the reception. Clare looked up and smiled at me. “Was that nice dear?” she questioned. “Oh my yes,” I purred in return. “Well I did tell you he was good didn’t I?” He was good all right and I was so terribly bad. I giggled to myself at how he may never know just what a bad girl I truly was. I settled up, trying to work out what line to use so that I could get Michaels number when he returned. “Mmm yes he is good,” I agreed. “I suppose he has learned to be more tactile than most because of his lack of sight.” Clare chuckled kindly. “Oh no dear,” she replied. “You’ve got it quite wrong! Michael isn’t blind. The blind clinic is on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays. Today is Thursday. I can see where you made the mistake though with him wearing those silly sunglasses. Between you and me Dear, I think he had a bit of a heavy night last night.” Just then the treatment room door clicked open and out stepped Michael. He looked towards me as he lifted away his shades, displaying two of the most perfect, bright-blue eyes I have ever seen. He grinned his devastating grin at me and handed me his business card. “Any time you need a little help umm…releasing that tension of yours, I would be glad to assist. Just give me a call.” I felt my cheeks burn<b> red hot. </font></b>I had never felt so embarrassed in all my life and I croaked a “thank you very much,” before turning on my heels and scurrying from the clinic. Once out in the street I burst out laughing at how naughty little Amanda had been beaten at her own game, but being the sore loser I am I threw his card in the dustbin. The cheeky boy was only gonna get one free show from me! As I headed for home, still laughing from time to time and feeling on top of the world, I resolved to have that cute brunette at the gym in my shower by the end of the week. Right where I wanted her. Here's the link for those of you that like these kinds for stories: http://Adult Dating zone.com |
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Great post/writing!  Bravo!  Now, if you'd only do this more and more often. Cheers.
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