“So, you're looking for some electives?” The brunette woman asked, typing away at her computer.“That's right. I'm trying to have a well-rounded education” Sarah replied. Her blonde hair was done into two, tight Dutch braids. She pulled at one absentmindedly as her college advisor typed away. Sarah sat on the other side of the advisor's desk in a small chair in a small office in the administrative building at her small state school. The fall semester of her sophomore year would start soon and she had come to the advisor for some elective advice. She shifted uncomfortably in the chair, its frame was digging into her thick thighs. Sarah's ****** was full of lithe women, so everyone was shocked when Sarah developed into a curvaceous beauty. Sarah stopped fidgeting when she noticed the advisor eyeing her.
“I really should get a bigger chair,” the woman behind the desk said and Sarah blushed. She thought it was a bit rude considering the advisor was also a full-figured woman. Sarah's eyes surveyed the room, hoping to find something interesting to look at, as she waited for the advisor to speak again. She saw the backs of some pictures on the desk, but she thought it would be rude to turn them around to look at them. On the left wall, hung a Black Lives Matter flag. Sarah eyed it for a moment before something on top of a bookshelf caught her eye. It was a strange art piece. A statue? Or is it a sculpture? She wondered.
Up from a wooden base, a pair of onyx hands held up a large, milky, white orb. Porcelain? Sarah guessed.
“It's porcelain,” the advisor said. Sarah gave a little jump at the sound of her voice. Her eyes turned to the woman behind the desk. Catherine Brand was her name. Her chestnut brown hair was pulled into a tight bun. Sarah didn't reply. The woman, ten years Sarah's senior, continued. “It was a custom piece, I commissioned. I think it perfectly represents what my twenties were like.” The woman laughed and Sarah laughed too, but wasn't sure that she got the joke.
“Did you find anything for me?” Sarah asked. Catherine glanced at her computer.
“A few things,” the advisor replied. A few clicks of her mouse and a paper came from the printer behind her. She handed the paper over. The list of electives included things like film studies, personal finance, and art history. Sarah needed to pick two of them for the coming semester and she was mulling over her options when Catherine spoke up. “I have one more, but it's not on the course list. African-American Literature 101.”
“Why would it not be listed?”
“Demand. The professor is also very particular about who takes the class,” Catherine told her. Sarah thought that sounded odd, but before she could say anything else, Catherine had produced a sign-up sheet that had about six names on it. “I know Dr. Jones. We graduated together. I'd be happy to put in a good word for you.”
“Well, I thought film studies and personal finance would be fine,” Sarah said apologetically.
“Trust me, AAL 101 is for you. You're going into education and you can expect to be teaching a diverse student body. Why not have a diversity of knowledge then?” Catherine said handing the sign-up sheet to Sarah.
“Well, I'm not sure..”
“Listen, didn't you say you wanted a well-rounded education? I have never seen someone who has taken AAL101 not become well-rounded,” Catherine said with a grin. Catherine's grin became a beaming smile when Sarah jotted her name and contact info onto the signup sheet.
Ms. Brand's good words must have paid off. It was the first day of the fall semester and Sarah was walking to her first class of AAL 101. Sarah's thighs swished together in her sweatpants as she made her way to the liberal arts building where the class was held. She entered, turned towards the stairwell, and noticed a girl ahead of her as she climbed the stairs. Her hair was dyed blonde and pulled into a ponytail. Sarah could see the girl's brunette roots starting to show. The girl wore a pink velour tracksuit and Sarah tried to avert her eyes as she followed the girl up the stairs. Her tracksuit bottoms were struggling to contain her wide, bubble butt. Sarah was a bit hypnotized by the woman's ass, but luckily she ended up following the girl into the AAL101 classroom. The girl in the tracksuit moved to take a seat near the back and Sarah sat next to her.
“I'm Sarah,” she said to the girl.
“Kimberly,” the girl smiled and tugged down her tracksuit top. “Everyone calls me Kimmy”.
“Looks like you're one of the chosen ones,” Sarah said with an exaggerated eye roll. Kimmy laughed.
“You must have Brand as an advisor too,” Kimmy said tugging at her tracksuit top.
“African American Lit seemed like a normal class to me, but she was so pushy about it,” Sarah eyed the soft sliver of skin that peeked from in between Kimmy's tracksuit. Girl, go up a size, Sarah thought.
“Tell me about it. I came to see her to work on my schedule and she pushed the sign-up sheet on me right away. I'm over there embarrassing myself trying to squeeze into this little ass chair in her office and Brand is just watching me struggle,” Kimmy said with a laugh. “She doesn't say sorry or anything. She just immediately goes in on how this class is perfect for me and blah blah. Well-rounded person, whatever.” Sarah and Kimmy laughed. The pair chatted as more students started to trickle into the small classroom. Sarah glanced at each one coming and after a few had entered, leaned to say something to Kimmy. Before she could speak, a hush fell over the classroom as the professor entered.
“Good morning class,” the man said and the class returned his greeting in unison. “I am Dr. Carter Jones and I will be taking you on this journey through African-American Literature 101”. He ran his finger along a sheet of paper and glanced around the class. “My role says ten and I count ten, so let's take some time to introduce ourselves and then we'll talk about the syllabus. As for myself, I am a graduate of this school. I have a doctorate in African-American studies from Yale, but I'm not extra about it. So Dr. Jones if you must, but I prefer Carter. I'm currently single, you can say I'm married to my work. I'm a Scorpio and I love jazz.”
Carter went one by one and asked each student their name and major and a little fact about themselves, but Sarah was transfixed by the professor. He stood 6'3” in a pair of form-fitting, black slacks and a light gray dress shirt. There was no question about it; Dr. Jones worked out. His shirt bulged around his chest and arms. Sarah studied his face. A strong jaw covered in a five o'clock shadow. Thick lips that curled into a sly smile. Eyes as dark as a starless sky, that seemed to look into you instead of at you. A shaved head, the skin smooth and flawless. He raised a large hand to point out the next student to speak with a long, thick finger and Sarah couldn't help but imagine those hands on her and those fingers in her. She snapped out of her fantasy when it was her turn to speak and awkwardly stumbled through her introduction. No one seemed to care. As Kimmy spoke, Sarah noticed that all eyes were on Carter.
“It is so nice to meet y'all and I am blessed to have y'all here with me,” Carter said after Kimmy finished. He moved about the room and passed out a syllabus as he spoke. His hand brushed Sarah's as he handed her the paper and she inhaled sharply. Their eyes locked for a short moment, but Carter kept moving around the classroom as he introduced the material. The syllabus included the recommended reading materials and it included what you would expect of an introductory course. Writers like Frederick Douglass, Sojourner Truth, and Booker T Washington were on the list, but Sarah found the grading breakdown as she scanned through the syllabus. Thirty percent of your grade was attendance and another ten came from a term paper. The remaining sixty percent was listed as one-on-one interviews. Sarah watched as Carter moved back to the front of the class, still giving the course introduction.
“We'll read a lot of stories of tragedy in this course. That's a sad fact of African-American history, of black history, but I don't want anyone to think the story of black people is just a tragedy. I think y'all will soon find the black story to be one of triumph. My goal in this course is to share the African-American experience, the black truth, with y'all. I know that when this course is done, each one of you will be carrying a bit of the black experience with you in your everyday life,” Carter finished his speech with a warm smile. He talked about the reading material and how everything was in stock at the school bookstore. He said that we would discuss the term paper when we approached the midway point of the semester. One girl, black-haired with a septum piercing, asked about the interview the syllabus mentioned.
“There's nothing to that,” Carter said facing her. He paused for a moment, his eyes met the girls. Her pale cheeks flushed and she looked away before Carter continued. “I've done the whole pop quiz and exam thing. I hate it and I don't like constant essays either. I don't like to read them. I think it's much better if we sit down together and I just ask you to talk to me about the material. What it means to you and what you took from the class. Students who understand the material easily get an A. I'm looking at each one of you and I can tell you're all built to handle this course load”. Sarah was surprised that Carter spent the rest of the class time joking with the students.
When he dismissed the class, Sarah and Kimmy left together. Carter said goodbye to them both by name and the pair headed out of the classroom. Sarah noticed that a few of the girls had stayed behind to talk with the professor. The two girls exited the liberal arts building and headed towards the parking lot. They both found out they only had one class on Tuesdays and Thursdays.
“What did you think of that?” Sarah asked her new friend.
“I think he's fine as hell,” Kimmy said.
“He is, but I'm talking about the class,” Sarah said blushing.
“It's an easy A and I have something nice to look at while I get it. I love the class,” Kimmy grinned. Sarah noticed that the zipper on Kimmy's tracksuit top was down. Her cleavage bounced as she walked in the cool August air. Did she pull that down in class? Sarah wondered. She grabbed the zipper and pulled it up to Kimmy's neck.
“Try not to entice the professor, Kimmy. You wouldn't want to distract him from teaching,” Sarah said playfully.
“I wasn't the only one,” Kimmy pouted. “If you hadn't spent so much time eye-fucking him you would have seen that goth chick on the other side of the room. She took her coat off. Crossed her arms, just pressing her titties up for him to see.”
“I wasn't eye-fucking him,” Sarah said, she tried to defend herself, but Kimmy cut her off.
“Yes, you were. I heard that little gasp you made when he gave you your paper. When's the last time you got laid,” Kimmy slapped Sarah's butt and laughed when she yelped. “Get some help, girl.”
“Speaking of the goth chick,” Sarah stammered trying to change the subject. “Did you notice anything weird about the class?” Kimmy gave Sarah a puzzled look. “It's all-female, Kimmy. Ten women, that's it”.
“What's your point? He's a fine-ass man teaching an elective course with a bunch of reading. Do you expect a bunch of boys to be in the class?” Kimmy swiped her phone and started texting someone.
“Kimmy, the class is by invitation only. It's not open sign-up. The only reason we know about the class is because Ms. Brand told us. Ms. Brand wouldn't take no for an answer,” Sarah said, but she had lost Kimmy's attention. They walked together in silence to the parking lot. Kimmy scrolled through Instagram and Sarah thought about the class. Ten students. All women. Kimmy's a bit plump, but every girl in class was at least curvy. Sarah pondered it as she got into her car, but one question ate at her on the drive back to her apartment. Why are only white women signed up for her African-American Literature class?
If anything, Kimmy was right. AAL101 was an easy A. You didn't have to do any coursework. You didn't have to do the reading. Carter would pass out note sheets that summarized everything. Sarah would come into class ready to talk about the assigned reading. They'd talk about the piece for about ten minutes and then the rest of the class would be spent goofing off. The midway point of the semester had come and gone. The essay prompt had been a joke and Sarah felt like a fool for putting in the effort she did. Kimmy would scold her for being too serious when they'd walk back together after class, but Sarah would try and fail to scold her for flirting with a teacher.
If Sarah was going to scold Kimmy, then she'd have to scold the other eight girls in class too. She would have to scold the teacher. Carter flirted with every girl in class at every opportunity. He would say something nice to Sarah from time to time and her face would turn red. It seemed that AAL101 was all about pushing the envelope now. At first, it was innocent enough, cleavage showing here and there or girls doing their full makeup for a 9:00 am class. Then it was bare midriffs and miniskirts. It's November, Sarah thought, but she had gotten into the habit of doing her makeup for class too. She could never come into class, take off her winter coat, and just have her breasts spilling out of her top or her ass cheeks hanging out as some of the other girls did, but she had become interested in the material. She wanted to discuss what she was reading, but it seemed like if you wanted Carter's attention in class you had to go along with the rest.
Kimmy had. She didn't sit at the back with Sarah anymore. Kimmy, like the rest of the girls, wanted to be front and center. Right now she was sitting on Carter's desk in a pink maxi dress, that left none of her curves to the imagination. Bra-less, her nipples were erect. Carter laid his hand across the small of her back and whispered something into her ear. Kimmy licked her lips as she looked into his eyes and Carter laughed. So inappropriate, Sarah thought. It was all getting more and more inappropriate with each class. The other girls would touch Carter: on his thigh, his chest, his bicep, and now some were brave enough to make a pass at his crotch. Sarah saw the goth chick in class grab a handful of Carter's crotch and then turn to her friend with a look that could only say: it is!
Nothing, but escalation after escalation. If you touched Carter, Carter would touch back: a thigh, a waist. The goth chick who turned to give her friend the look, soon felt a large, black hand give her ass a soft smack and a hard squeeze. She yelped at the slap, but Carter dug his hand into her ass cheek and whispered into her ear. That made her moan. Stephanie was glad that the class was nearing the end. Despite how much she internally protested it and how much she told herself she would report this behavior, she knew deep down she would never do that. Every day after class, she would hurry back to her apartment and strip down, get on her bed, and thinking of Carter, she would desperately masturbate. She imagined Carter in every way: bending her over, taking her in the shower, on top of her. Sometimes she imagined it rough and animalistic, other times gentle and passionate. No matter how she imagined it, or if she used her fingers or toys, she couldn't get herself off. She hated herself for it. All the time spent judging the other girls' behavior and she was guilty of wanting the same thing they wanted. She was frustrated and hoped that with the class ending, being away from Carter would help her feel better
She made her way to Carter's office. Class had been canceled for the last two weeks of the semester so he could carry out his end-of-term interviews. The campus was eerily quiet as the rest of the students did their exam prep. When he posted the available time slots, most of them were in the evening and off campus. Sarah assumed that the address provided was Carter's house. Sarah noticed two slots during the day on campus, so she made a point to take one of them. She climbed the stairs to the fourth floor of the liberal arts buildings where the professors' offices were. The building seemed mostly empty. Carter's office was in the back corner of the building. The office was long and spacious. Carter was seated at his desk on the far side of the room, going through some files.
“Can't believe I have one this big, can you?” He called to her as she came through the door. “Close that door please.”
“It's very impressive,” Sarah said dryly, closing the door and approaching the desk. He gestured for her to sit. Carter stood and drew the blinds behind his desk and turned back to sit across from her.
“You're the impressive one,” Carter said softly. “Every year I look for people who can take the coursework seriously. I had to weed the fellas out. They never take the class seriously. Lately, though it seems like the ladies can't take it seriously either,” Carter sighed.
“I don't know what to say,” Sarah stammered. She was stunned.
“I truly appreciate the work you've done this semester,” Carter reached a large hand across the desk and placed it gently on hers. Sarah felt a small rush when he touched her.
“I didn't do anything special,” Sarah tried to protest, but Carter cut her off.
“You did. While everyone else wanted to play around, you brought your A-game. Are you ready to start the interview?” Sarah felt ashamed. Had she misread the whole thing? She turned away from his gaze and that was when she noticed it. On top of a bookcase in the back corner, on a wooden base were two onyx hands holding a large, milky, white orb.
“Ms. Brand has the same art piece,” Sarah said, barely above a whisper. “I didn't know there were two of them.”
“That old thing,” Carter laughed. “Brand insisted I have it.” Carter stood and moved to Sarah's side of the desk.
“How do you two know each other?” Sarah asked. Carter placed his hands on her shoulders and slowly ran his fingers on Sarah's collarbones.
“We go way back. We were both students here when I was doing undergrad work,” Carter's fingers went lower, brushing against the tops of her breasts. Sarah could feel her heart rate increasing. “We had a ton in common and similar ideas and values. You know I had a lot of anger at the world in my younger days. Brand taught me to be the change you want to see. One step in the right direction is still moving in the right direction. Brand is full of those kinds of sayings. Maybe she's just full of shit,” Carter laughed. “Tell me, does she still have that small-ass chair in her office? We don't get to interact face to face much these days.” Carter pulled Sarah to her feet and embraced her from behind. He started to kiss her neck
“She does,” Sarah nodded, her eyes closed. What is this? What's happening? Carter ran his hands over her body. Hands grasped at her breasts, slid down her thighs, squeezed her ass, and one came to rest over her sex. She could feel herself losing her grip, she opened her eyes and then fell on the strange statue. “Ms. Brand says she had her statue made, is that true?”
“Maybe,” Carter said. He was unbuttoning and pulling down her jeans. “One day she just brought it to me. Told me she had one too. Said that even if we couldn't meet publicly it would be a reminder of our shared goals. She called it Destiny.” Sarah could feel Carter's erection against her ass. He turned her around and pushed her to her knees. He slid his pants off and sat back in the chair. Sarah could see the outline of his cock in his boxers. “Now I think Destiny is a fine name for that piece and Brand can call it that if she likes,” Carter pulled Sarah's head closer to his crotch. Sarah was panting, she could feel her wetness starting to run onto her thighs. “I call it Triumph, but that's enough for now white girl. Let's begin the interview.”
Carter lifted and pulled his boxers down. His massive, black cock sprung from the fabric, rebounding against Sarah's lips for a second. She stared at it doe-eyed and dumbstruck. Ten inches long and six and a half inches thick, its circumcised head throbbed centimeters from Sarah's face. She could feel the heat from his black cock and large, full balls and she in turn felt a burning sensation of want in her stomach.
“Go ahead,” Carter said to her calmly. “Show me what you learned in this class. When you see this in front of you. What do you do?” Sarah kissed the head of his penis and slowly worked it into her mouth. She worked her mouth over as much of his length as she could handle, but past boyfriends had never prepared her for this. “Relax, it's an easy A,” Carter said pushing on the top of Sarah's head. She could feel more and more of that black monster filling and stretching her throat. She felt like she had to gag, but she couldn't breathe. Tears formed in the corners of her eyes. She was choking on Carter's member and the heat in her throat, the heat from his balls, and the heat in her stomach and on her pussy lips made her want to pass out. When she thought she couldn't take another second of it, she felt Carter tense and she waited for the cum to drown her. Carter slowly pulled his cock out of her mouth though and left her gagging on the floor. “That would be a waste. It's not what we're here for. This interview still has more questions.” Carter pulled her to her feet. She stumbled to the side and fell forward, catching herself on the desk. She stayed that way for a moment, trying to gather her thoughts when she felt the head of his black dick rub her lower lips. She gasped sharply. “How do you want it?” He asked still rubbing his dick against her entrance. Her legs trembled and her elbows shook.
“Hard,” she moaned.
“Looks like you do know the material, white girl,” Carter said with a mix of lust and mockery. He thrust his thick black cock into her quivering white pussy. Sarah screamed as her pussy stretched to accommodate his six-and-a-half inches of girth. Slowly, but forcefully and inch by inch, Carter worked himself into her. Every adjustment he made sent an electric shock across her spine. Her legs buckled, but Carter wrapped an arm around her waist and kept her upright. He had finally sheathed himself in her. Sarah's pussy throbbed in a mix of pleasure and pain as it struggled to handle his black rod. He slowly slid his cock, covered in her pussy juice outward. Sarah shuddered and moaned and then cried out as he slammed his length back into her. She gasped for breath as he repeated the process. Over and over, gaining speed. She had no time to rest. She could only grip the desk, she felt her nails digging into the wood. Carter's hands initially stayed on her hips, but as he picked up his tempo, they started to roam. First to her pert breasts. Then to her neck. Finally, they came to her plump ass. Squeezing and pulling her cheeks apart. Strong, black fingers pulled the white flesh apart, ******** her pink asshole. She could feel her cum running down her legs. Carter's heavy, hanging balls slapped against her and the sound of it mixed with her ass slapping against him hypnotized her. Her mind was far away, she could only focus on the wooden desk and the burning sensation inside her. This time she could feel Carter tense inside her. “Where do you want it, white girl?” he asked her, increasing his speed. She panted and her eyes rolled around. They settled on the art piece on the shelf in the corner.
“INSIDE!” she screamed hoarsely.
“A+,” Carter laughed and then grunted as the first shot of his molten cum landed against her cervix. Sarah screamed in ecstasy as shot after shot poured into her. Carter held her in place. His cum started to leak onto the floor, even as he poured more in. With a final groan and a shudder, he pulled himself out of her. He guided her to the floor, thick white cum steadily leaking from her pussy. “Another successful interview. I love it so much more than reading a term paper,” Carter sighed. “When you come to, clean yourself up and go home. I'm sure have other exams to study for”. Sarah couldn't answer she only could look up at him and shudder as she felt electric shocks still running along her back, across her head. She saw his penis, still half erect, glistening with a combination of sweat, cum, and honey. He started to wipe himself off and then snapped his fingers. “Before I forget. I will expect you in AAL 102. It'll be running during the next fall semester. Brand will see to it that you get assigned. Trust me, an A+ in 102 is even easier. It's more or less a follow-up to this interview. All you have to do is show up on the first day and you'll get full credit for the semester. Easiest credits you'll ever get. It's never happened before, but there is a possibility you'll have to retake 101. Brand will let you know that too, but looking at you now... Well...I don't think that'll be a problem.” Sarah tried to follow his words, but the room was going dim. The fire inside her had died down and soon she blacked out.
Sarah shuffled her way to the liberal arts building. It was her first semester as a junior and she was late for her first, and if Carter and Ms. Brand were to be believed, the only day of African-American Literature 102. She slowly made her way inside and up the stairs to the second story pausing to catch her breath a few times. As she made slight progress, she thought of her spring semester meeting with Ms. Brand. She remembered how she had lit up when Sarah entered her office. Ms. Brand's cool all-business demeanor was replaced with a chatty friendliness. Ms. Brand had called them sisters. Sarah rolled her eyes at the thought. She had only come to see if she had to retake AAL101. The advisor's smile after she told Sarah 'no' was truly ear to ear. Sarah made it to the landing and worked her way to the classroom. 20 minutes late, Sarah thought. She had put all the weirdness of AAL101 behind her and her extreme interview as a passionate mistake. One you're still carrying, she quipped to herself. Into the classroom, she shambled and she was greeted with Kimmy's back. Sarah and Kimmy had a bit of a falling out and Sarah was hoping to rekindle their friendship just a bit.
Kimmy was wearing a pink velour tracksuit and it looked like she had gone a size up. Sarah took a good look at the girl's rear. It looked like her ass had gone up a size too. Her wide bubble butt seemed a bit wider at the hips. Sarah moved closer when Kimmy suddenly turned and smiled when she saw her. The girl in pink took a step back to the right and Sarah was confused because when Kimmy moved, Carter appeared sitting in a chair. Where did he come from? Sarah wondered. That was when Kimmy made a little cooing sound.
“She's moving,” Kimmy said warmly. Sarah watched Carter lift his hand and that was when she took a good look at her estranged friend. Her pink tracksuit top could only cover her heavy breasts. Her bloated, baby bump was *******. Carter's hand roamed over the expanse of expanded flesh and tiger stripe stretch marks. Kimmy smiled proudly. Sarah lumped in her throat and looked at her eight other classmates sitting to the side. All pregnant. The goth girl ran her finger around the expanded dark spot that used to be her navel. A pair of girls felt each other's bellies and cooed and giggled with each other. Everywhere Sarah looked it was white flesh ******* and rippling with movement from within. Her eyes turned to Carter. His smile wasn't like Ms. Brand's smile of pure joy. This was something else. Sarah tried to think of the word when Carter spoke.
“All of the interviews were a success,” he said, his eyes locked on Sarah. “Now, some in here are saying you're going to be like Kimmy here. All striped up.” Kimmy blushed and tried to cover her stretch marks. “Don't do that,” Carter said to the gravid girl in pink rubbing his hand on top of her stretched dome. “I've always said it's what's on the inside that counts. You have true inner beauty, girl.” He laughed and turned back to Sarah. “I tried to tell everyone that Sarah is much too studious and will always handle her tasks to the best of her abilities. So come here, white girl. Let's put it to rest. Let me see that gut.”
Sarah had tried to hide it at first, but as the months went on her wardrobe couldn't keep up. She had bought maternity clothes and even now they were useless. She was wearing her baggiest hoodie and still a crescent of flesh peaked from beneath the hoodie's hemline. She all of a sudden hated the fact that she had religiously fought against stretchmarks with cocoa butter. Her face was red when she raised her hoodie and ******* her flawless, taut, hanging, lily-white belly.
“I told y'all,” Carter said rubbing her stomach. “No matter what it is, Sarah takes things seriously. I think she might be the biggest in here.” Sarah kept quiet as Carter's hand roamed her bump. “Look at how low it is. This is a boy in here,” Carter wasn't asking. Sarah could only nod. He was right. A large boy. So large that her ob/gyn, an older black woman, made an embarrassing scene at every prenatal appointment. Forget knocked up, sugar. You got knocked out, or Tanya, come in here and look at this white girl. You just know, right? Sis, how big do you figure the thing that went in her was? That swimmer told that egg to blow her up, she can stretch. Or have you been craving fried chicken and collards, baby? and on and on. Sarah was sick of it. She was sick of prenatal care. She wanted to see her feet again. She was tired of Carter's oversized brat bullying her organs. On cue, a strong kick distended her white skin into Carter's waiting hand. “A step in the right direction,” Carter smiled triumphantly. Sarah could only stand there as the other girls waddled up to gawk and gape at her, while Carter rubbed circles on her gut. Her face was red as his onyx hands cradled her large milky, white orb.
Thanks for reading. On a side note, AI image generation is crazy.
