REFLECTED BLISS
When you discover a mirror attached to the wall in your hotel room, Spencer decides to take full advantage of it.
Warnings: (18+ MDNI) afab reader, established relationship but they're being sneaky, fingering, guided masturbation (f), unprotected sex with a mirror involved, creampie, and spencer being spencer a.k.a he uses fun facts as dirty talk ~3.9k words
A/n: Told myself to make this 'cute and sexy and less filthy' but… idk man, from a scale to 1 to 10 how filthy is this be honest
Requested: Here
“Oh my god.”
“What? What is it?”
“Spence,” you urged, pulling him into the room. “You need to see this.”
He followed you, stepping further in, and his eyes widened as they landed on the wall opposite the bed—a wall that wasn't just a wall, but a vast, floor-to-ceiling mirror reflecting the entire room. “That’s… interesting.”
“Interesting?” You mocked before peaking your head out the door, making sure no one was in sight before clicking it shut. “It’s terrifying.”
His duffel bag hit the carpet floor. “You’re scared of a mirror?”
“No,” you responded, placing your own bag alongside his. “I’m scared of the idea of it. I mean, look at it—it’s like it sees everything.”
“It’s glass. It can’t actually see us.”
“Yeah, but still,” you said, crossing your arms defensively. “It’s placed right in front of the bed. Who would want to watch themselves sleeping?”
His eyes shifted back and forth between the mirror and the bed, the reflection capturing every detail of the room, including the bed’s plush pillows and crisp white sheets. “You know, I don’t think it’s used for sleeping.”
“What do you mean?”
His lips quirked up into an amused smile. “Think about it. Why would anyone want a mirror like this in front of their bed? It’s not for sleeping, it’s for... well, other activities.”
You felt your cheeks heat up as realization dawned. “Oh, you mean—that’s even worse!”
He laughed, closing the distance between you, his arms resting comfortably around your waist. “Actually, visual stimulation can significantly enhance sexual experiences. Mirrors can add a whole new level of excitement by engaging our sense of sight.”
Your face flushed even more. “I… did not know that.”
“Yeah, it’s all about the brain processing the stimuli.” He pulled you closer, his voice dropping to a softer, more intimate tone. “It can heighten our arousal and make the experience more intense.”
You could feel your heart hammering against your chest, knowing what he was trying to do. Every time he initiated something intimate, it never failed to fluster you. There was a time when Spencer was uncertain and hesitant about these aspects of your relationship. But the more you spent time together, sneaking into each other’s hotel rooms from time to time, the more his confidence grew.
Now, you could feel it in the way he was holding you, his arms wrapped securely around your waist. His touch was firm yet gentle, and the way he looked down at you, his eyes filled with warmth and a hint of mischief, was sending you into a frenzy. There was something different in his gaze—a new assurance, a quiet strength that made your pulse quicken.
He smiled down at you, a secretive, knowing smile as if he held a secret of his own, one that he was eager to share with you in these private moments. You swallowed hard, trying to steady your breathing.
“I guess that makes sense.”
His smile widened. “So, while the mirror might seem creepy at first, it actually has its perks.”
“Perks, huh?”
“Absolutely.”
You pulled back slightly, eyes narrowing at him. “Are you trying to convince me to have sex in front of the mirror?”
“Is it working?”
You couldn’t stop the laugh escaping your lips. “A little.”
He laughed along with you, the sound warm and infectious. “Can I convince you more?”
But before you could answer him, his lips were already down your neck, drawing a sigh from you. You tilted your head to grant him better access. His hands slid around your waist, pulling you closer until you could feel the steady beat of his heart against yours.
“I thought—” You let out a moan when he sucked a spot just below your ear. “I thought we agreed… no funny business tonight.”
“Was that really your plan when you begged me to stay with you?”
“I didn’t beg,” you defended. “You offered. I told you this town gave me the creeps and you said you’d sneak in my room to keep me company.”
His lips paused momentarily, hovering just over your pulse.
“You’re right, you didn’t beg,” he conceded with a soft chuckle, his breath tickling your skin. “But you have to admit, the offer was mutually beneficial.”
“Mutually beneficial? Is that what we’re calling it?”
“It’s accurate,” he murmured, drawing back to look at you. “And I seem to remember someone saying how much they appreciated the company... especially at night.”
You could feel the smile forming on your lips, even as you tried to maintain a semblance of indignation. “Well, maybe I did say that. But that doesn’t mean—”
His lips cut you off, soft and persuasive, making it impossible to continue as your protests melted away. The kiss deepened, driven by a mixture of long-held desire and the thrill of his hard body pressed against your soft frame.
“You make a pretty convincing argument,” you murmured against his lips, your earlier resolve softening.
He pulled away from you before taking your hand in his. “Come here.”
He led you gently towards the mirror, the expanse of glass revealing your intertwined figures in the softly lit room.
“Oh my god, we’re actually doing this?”
He positioned you in front of him. "Only if you're comfortable.”
You watched your reflections, the way his hands settled more firmly around your waist, how your bodies fit together so perfectly. Your gaze met him through the mirror.
“Convince me more.”
He smiled and wrapped his arms around you, fingers hovering above the buttons of your shirt.
“Well," he began. "Did you know that mirrors don't just reflect visuals? They can also amplify emotions.”
You watched him in the reflection, the depth of his clear, brown eyes pulling you deeper into the moment. "It's like being both the spectator and the participant," he continued, his fingers deftly beginning to unbutton your shirt with gentle precision. "It makes everything more real, more intimate.”
You found yourself nodding, drawn in by both his words and the tender yet confident way he handled you.
"So," he concluded as he folded back the fabric, revealing more of you to the cool air of the room and the warm glow of his gaze, "If we're talking about enhancing our senses, using a mirror could make every touch, every kiss, feel even more intense, don't you think?"
Words failed you; you were too overwhelmed by his presence, by the heat that radiated from his touch, so instead of speaking, you nodded again. He smiled, a slow, knowing curve of his lips that suggested he was aware of the effect he had on you.
"See?" he murmured, slipping your shirt off your shoulders. "Everything feels more alive, doesn't it?"
More than alive, your body was burning. You couldn't tear your eyes away from the mirror, where every movement and touch vividly reflected back at you. You leaned into him, letting the warmth of his body envelop you as his lips found the curve of your neck, planting soft, lingering kisses.
His fingers slid down the strap of your bra, the motion slow and tantalizing as his gaze traced the path. His other hand remained at your waist, holding you steady as if he knew how his actions were making your knees weak.
“Tell me what you’re thinking,” he urged when he caught you staring intently at your reflection.
"I'm thinking," you started. “That this mirror might be magic.”
His eyebrows raised slightly, amusement flickering through his gaze. "Oh?"
“It’s making my clothes disappear.”
He laughed, the sound rich and warm in the quiet room. “I thought maybe I had something to do with that.”
“Well… you do love a good magic trick.”
“I do love a good magic trick.”
You felt his fingers on your back before he unhooked the clasp of your bra. The fabric loosened, and you felt a flush of warmth that had little to do with the room's temperature. His hands slid from your back to your shoulders, gently pushing the straps down your arms, allowing the fabric to slip away gracefully.
“You’re so beautiful.”
You swallowed, trying to concentrate as his arms circled your waist before his fingers found the waistband of your pants.
“You’re… you’re pretty too.”
His chuckle was low and affectionate, his breath tickling your ear. "I'll take that as a compliment."
You felt his fingers undo the button of your pants, his movements slow, almost teasing, before he gently slid the zipper down. He gazed into your eyes through the mirror, seeking permission, and you found yourself nodding, your breath catching in your throat.
His hands shifted, not only guiding the fabric down your legs but also making sure your panties followed suit as he kneeled behind you. He let out a strained groan when he caught the evidence of your slick arousal clinging onto the fabric, momentarily pausing to kiss the back of your exposed thigh.
You were so pretty, so warm, so inviting. Spencer let his lips linger onto your skin while he pushed the last piece of clothing gently past your knees, allowing it to fall gracefully to the floor. He stood back up and led you both backward until the back of his knees met the edge of the bed.
With a smooth motion, he sat down, guiding you to sit between his spread legs. He carefully nudged your legs apart with his hand, and you couldn't resist looking away when you saw yourself in this position.
“No,” he said, his hand tracing along the column of your neck, coming to rest gently against your jaw before tilting your face toward the mirror. “I want you to watch.”
Hesitantly, your eyes met your reflection in the mirror. You could clearly see yourself, how exposed you were, how you seemed to look smaller compared to him with the way you were naked and the way he was still fully clothed.
His hands traced a path from your jaw down your neck, and he watched himself move over the swells of your breasts. He gave them both a firm squeeze, admiring how they looked in his hands, how your skin radiated beneath his own.
You gasped when his thumbs brushed your nipples. It seemed like it wasn’t much, but the sensation you were getting from it was making you wetter. Your nipples were so sensitive that you let out his name in an airy moan.
“Yes, baby?”
Your back arched instinctively. He knew what he was doing with his sweet, gentle voice and the way he was rolling your nipples in between his index and middle fingers.
You shifted your head to the side. “Can you kiss me?”
Of course he could, he’d probably give you anything you asked for. Spencer leaned forward, his lips met yours that melded with sweetness an intense longing. One of your hands found its way to his hair, pulling him closer as you kissed him with a clear desperation, but his hunger was unmatched.
He was kissing you as if he wanted to make sure he memorized every curve of your lip, the way your tongue felt, and how it felt good to get a moan out of you. You were moaning loudly, way too loud, and all he could do was swallow your moans—tongue exploring all over the inside of your mouth or press his lips hard against yours.
Finally breaking the kiss just enough to speak, he whispered against your lips. “Should I continue?”
You nodded as his other hand, which had been skillfully teasing your nipples traveled down, tracing the lines of your body, over your ribs, pausing at your hips. He gently guided your hips to shift slightly, adjusting the angle, spreading your legs further apart.
“Can you keep your eyes on the mirror for me?”
You fixed your gaze on the reflection and felt a surge of heat rush through you. A glistening sheen of your arousal coated your inner thighs, and it almost embarrassed you, but it seemed like he didn’t mind. His large hands moved down your thighs, his touch alternating between gentle brushes and firm grips, exploring the softness of your flesh.
The moment his fingers made contact with the slick wetness, sliding effortlessly through your folds and parting them, a sharp gasp escaped your lips. The image in the mirror was boldly erotic, and he continued with practiced movements as he pushed you further into a haze of pleasure.
“Look at how responsive you are,” he murmured, his fingers rolling over your clit. "Visual stimulation can greatly enhance the physical sensations. Watching yourself like this, seeing how much you enjoy it, can intensify everything you feel."
Your stomach churned with a violent delight as he began to put more pressure, rubbing your swollen nub in a circular motion. You gasped, focusing on your reflection–your head tilting back, your eyes fluttering shut before snapping open again. It was intensely arousing to see yourself in such a raw, unguarded state.
"Watching can make the pleasure more acute," he continued, guiding your hand down to feel where his fingers were at work. "Try it."
Your eyes met his in the mirror. “W-What?”
“Here,” he encouraged, taking hold of your hand before placing it at the center of your cunt. The warmth and wetness were startling, even more so because you were witnessing it unfold in the mirror. His fingers guided yours, teaching you the rhythm and pressure that had drawn those sharp gasps from your lips.
"Like this," he murmured, his own hand adjusting yours, showing you how to circle and press. Your breath hitched, seeing the flush spread across your chest and neck, the way his fingers moved above yours.
"It intensifies, doesn't it?"
Your head fell back to his chest. “Y-Yes.”
“Keep going,” he instructed, and you followed, playing with your clit with the right amount of pressure you desired. When his fingers traveled further down, his fingertips grazing your entrance, your jaw slacked open.
You whimpered as he began to sink his digits into your cunt, savoring the way you clenched around him. Your eyes rolled at the back of your head before you instinctively closed your eyes.
You felt his free hand gripping your jaw.
“Eyes on the mirror, Sweetheart.”
You obeyed, reopening your eyes. You settled to watch how his hand flexed as he began to slowly pump his finger in and out of your dripping cunt before adding another to stretch you out. You whined, your own fingers moving fast against your clit.
“Good,” he murmured, burying his face against the side of your neck, face nearly pressing into yours. His stubbled jaw scraped across your skin, causing you to shudder in pleasure. “Keep watching.”
You could barely think straight, your breaths coming in short gasps now, your focus split between the sensations rippling through your body and the erotic display in the mirror. His fingers curled inside you, finding that perfect angle to press against your most sensitive spot.
The room was quickly filled with the lewd sound as he kept a steady pace, fingers rutting into your tight hole, your slick inner walls clenching around him with each thrust. Your hips jerked against him again as a tiny moan escaped your lips.
"I love seeing you like this," he confessed. "Are you close?”
You struggled to answer, your breaths coming in quick, shallow gasps. But he felt the way you clenched around him, a clear sign of your approaching orgasm. His other hand traced a path from just below your breasts, gliding down over the smooth plane of your stomach. He paused, his palm resting just above where your own fingers were playing with your clit, and applied pressure there.
A shudder tore through you, the sensation bordering on overwhelming before a sharp, involuntary whimper escaped your lips. Your body shook as your orgasm washed over you in an intense wave.
The mirror captured it all—the way your head tossed back against his shoulder, your eyes squeezed shut, then snapped open to catch glimpses of his fingers thrusting into your throbbing cunt while his other hand pressed gently on your lower stomach.
Your own movements paused as you tried to catch your breath and Spencer held you, making sure you composed yourself even though his erection was digging into the swell of your ass, itching to be inside of you. Fortunately, he had patience—you, on the other hand, not so much.
You gripped onto his thigh, noting the fabric underneath your palm. “You’re wearing too much clothes.”
Spencer chuckled softly, his breath warm against your ear. "Am I now?"
"Definitely too much.”
"Maybe we should fix that," he suggested, shifting slightly to allow some space for you to turn in his arms. Your hands moved to the buttons of his shirt the moment you faced him, fingers itching to rid him of the unnecessary barrier.
He watched your every move with a slight smile playing on his lips. letting you push the fabric over his shoulder. “Better?”
"Getting there.”
You worked at the buckle of his belt before you unbuttoned his pants, urging him to lift his hips as you slid them off. "How about now?”
You reached out, your hands gliding up his now bare thighs.
"Almost. Still too much."
Spencer responded immediately, his hands removing the last piece of his clothing in a fluid motion. Then he was finally naked, and the sight of his cock, visibly aroused and gleaming slightly at the tip, drew a sharp intake of breath from you.
"Now we're talking," you breathed out, a satisfied grin spreading across your face.
His hands found their way to your waist, urging you to face the mirror again. “Get on your knees for me.”
“You’re really into this mirror thing, huh?"
“It’s hard not to,” he quipped, his hands gently guiding you into position as he settled behind you. "Don’t worry, all the attention is on you."
“Oh, really?” you responded, turning slightly to look up at him. "Or do you just like seeing how good you make me feel?”
“I do make you feel good, don’t I?”
“Cockiness does not suit you.”
“Mhm,” he hummed, gripping your hips with one hand and the other positioning himself right at your entrance. “Arch your back a little.”
You obliged, accentuating the curve of your body. “Like this?”
“Perfect.”
His hand on your hips adjusted you slightly, ensuring the angle was just right. You sucked in a sharp breath, feeling his cock brush past your folds and you both moaned as he pushed himself further into you. Once he was all the way in, pausing to take a breath, he slowly slid back out to give you an experimental thrust.
You whined at the sensation before adjusting your knees, spreading them further apart to give him better access. This new position deepened the angle, and when he thrust back into you, the pleasure intensified.
"Is this better?" He asked breathlessly, watching your expressions in the mirror for any sign of discomfort or pleasure.
You nodded. Your face felt hot, your mind was fogging up. The feeling of being filled was too good, but you wanted something more. Your hips, as if you had no control over them, started to grind against his.
Spencer groaned in pleasure, head going blank. His hands rested on your waist, pulling back to slide himself out before going back in slowly, meeting your movement. But he was treating you as if you were fragile, his thrusts were gentle, and despite how vocal you are with your little whimpers, it still wasn’t enough.
“Baby,” you gasped, pushing your hips back into his. “Can you—can you go faster?”
Spencer's response was immediate, his breath catching slightly at your request. His gaze met yours in the mirror, searching for any sign of hesitation, but when he saw none, he began to pick up the pace.
“Faster?” His hand tightened on your waist as he gave you a hard thrust, jolting you forward. “Or rougher?”
Both, you wanted both, but a breathless yes was the only thing that managed to slip out of your mouth. His grin was sharp, almost predatory. His movements became even more deliberate, each thrust gaining force and speed, driving into you with an intensity that matched the urgency in your voice.
“You like that?” he asked, voice rough with desire as he leaned closer, his breath hot against your skin.
"Yes, I—fuck," You blabbered. The pleasure was building, coiling tightly within you. “S-So good.”
Spencer’s other hand moved forward, finding your chin in the mirror and gently turning your face towards his. “Look at us.”
The reflection showed every detail—your wide eyes, his focused expression, the way your bodies moved together in a perfect rhythm. It was overwhelming, and even more intense when the hand on your waist slid around you, fingers brushing your clit.
You mewled, your back pressing against his chest. The visual of watching it all happen, of seeing how your bodies worked together, amplified everything. The combination of his thrusts and the relentless circles his fingers traced over your clit drove you closer to the edge.
"Spencer, I’m—" you started, breathless, the words catching in your throat as the building pressure within you neared its peak.
"I know," he replied. He could feel it too, the way your body clenched around him, and he was just about at his limit. “Me too… I’m so close.”
You felt every muscle in your body tighten, the coil in your stomach winding tighter and tighter. “Wanna feel you,” you gasped. “Cum… inside… me.”
Spencer’s response was a deep, guttural groan, his breaths growing even more labored. “Yeah? You want me to fill you up?”
“Please," you whispered, urgency lacing every syllable. “Want your cum in me.”
That did it. He just couldn’t say no to you.
His fingers moved rapidly on your clit as he drove into you. The combination of his deep, determined thrusts and the relentless stimulation of your clit overwhelmed your senses. The room was filled with the sounds of the rhythmic slap of skin against skin, and you could see in the mirror how each movement affected you.
Then, with a few more powerful thrusts, you felt him tense, a deep groan escaping him as he reached his climax. The hot rush of his release inside you was the final trigger your body needed. Your vision blurred, your mind blanked, and you surrendered to the intense wave of your own orgasm, crashing over you with a force that left you trembling and breathless.
Spencer continued to move gently, riding out the aftershocks of your climaxes together, his movements becoming slower, more soothing. As the waves of pleasure subsided, he wrapped his arms around you more tightly, pulling you back against his chest protectively. His breaths were slow and deep, calming against the back of your neck.
You were panting, tired yet blissful, and your eyes met his gaze in the mirror once again.
“How many couples do you think the mirror has witnessed?”
Spencer chuckled softly, his chest rumbling against your back. "More than we can imagine."
He then pulled out from you and a soft sigh escaped you as his hot release slipped from your cunt. Spencer noticed it too, which was why his hand went back between your thighs, his fingers pushing the white, warm liquid back into you.
“Oh my god,” you gasped. “What–you—” You stared at him with wide eyes. “You are filthy.”
“Don’t pretend you’re not enjoying this.”
You sighed, because he was right, more so you were enjoying it too much because his fingers continued thrusting into you and you found yourself pushing back against his hand.
“Spence…” You warned him, although it came out too breathless to make it sound like a real threat.
He grinned, clearly enjoying your response. “Do you want me to stop?”
You paused, pretending to think, but there was no real doubt as you quickly shook your head. Because how could you want him to stop when his touch was so intoxicating, when he was focused so intently on your pleasure more than ever before?
Your eyes drifted back toward the expansive mirror in front of you.
Maybe you should get one for your room.
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unknown - m.verstappen
masterlist | pairing: max verstappen x Hamilton!fem!reader. summary: when an unknown number comes across his phone, max can’t help but discover who’s sent him the image he can’t erase from his mind. warnings: 18+ + fingering (f receiving) + mentions of nudity + fluff (at the end). a/n: I want to give a huge shoutout to @monzabee for always being my inspiration to finish my smut, but also for convincing me to read twisted games (this ones inspired by that xx)
unknown
attachment: 1 image
the pinging sound distracts him from the current game on his television. pausing for a quick second, max glances at the unknown number and slides the message open as curiosity struck him.
unknown
can you see my nipples through this?
Max’s phone nearly drops into his lap at the second message. he barely got the chance to even open the image, the second message was far too appalling and his hands got too slippery from the precipitation building around him.
“max! come on!” the chatter from his headset snaps his attention from the black phone screen in his lap. red slips across his cheeks as he apologizes quickly for the distraction, and continues on like nothing happened.
though he couldn’t lie, the curiosity of the image was certainly looming around him. what was the person wearing? could he see said nipples? he couldn’t help but try to sneak peaks at his phone whenever he got the chance before the stream ended.
finally free from his friends, max slides open his phone and his breath sucks inward. you could definitely see your nipples through the sheer linen tight white top. in fact, if it weren’t for your underwear, you could see the very outline of your vagina.
fuck. max was unsure to text back. if he did, what would he even say? there was no clear indication on who it was sending the message. he didn’t recognize the number, and on top of that there was no face. the image was purely just the outfit.
max verstappen
a bra would be appropriate.
your heart fell about five stories down, and right into the pit of your gut. shit, you didn’t send the message to your friends. instead, you mistook the ID you tapped on for one of them, and it turned out to very clearly be your brothers rival: max verstappen.
unknown
don’t mention this to Lewis.
max verstappen
secret is safe with me.
while this made perfectly good blackmail, max had nothing against you. you were completely innocent and most likely too stupid to notice you tapped his phone number instead. he’d never utter a word to Lewis, and the photo would die with max whenever the time may be.
max verstappen
where are you headed looking like that?
y/n Hamilton
your moms house.
max stifled out a chuckle unable to believe that you were born by the same parents as Lewis. when it came to humor, Lewis used it very minimal, but from the select times max had spoken to you, you were the complete opposite. meditation was joke, veganism was impossible to follow, and driving at fast speeds was too boring. y/n hamilton was every opposite of her brother.
max verstappen
I think my house is a better place for that
your heart somehow jumped back into its place, attempting to thump its way out of its cavity. max could easily be joking, he could easily be serious, but either way you shouldn’t go. max was probably not interested in women like you, and sure the photo might’ve tipped the scales in your favor, but you weren’t really into vanilla sex like he could offer.
y/n Hamilton
you wish I was headed to your place like this.
max verstappen
I do.
fuck. you close your eyes, letting your fingers type the message and hit send before you can even have a single regret. max might be your opposite in the bedroom, but you can’t help but wonder what he’s got up his sleeve.
y/n Hamilton
I’m free right now.
—
twenty minutes later his soft lips are leaving trails down your neck, his fingers work the buttons of the top that sickened his soul into this. he was careful not rip the material, but he was so the opposite of careful when his lips wrapped around your nipple.
his tongue and teeth graze the sensitive skin while you melt against his mattress into a puddle.
you were so wrong about him. oh so so, wrong.
he’d practically ripped that white shirt to shreds the second you entered his place. his tongue was a dominate force, shoved down your throat, his lips were passionate and full of eager. vanilla sex was so not max. you could write pages about him, no fantasy or book explored the way max did.
his fingers. oh gosh, they could write stories about how delicate, and soft they were. how they expanded your folds and had you clenching around nothing. they worked wonders— magic perhaps, pumping at such a fast speed you didn’t have time to react feeling him floor you until every drop of you was around him.
“these,” his tongue swipes across your breast, lips wrapping around the tip of your nipple, sucking you like a baby its thumb. it was relaxing, gut twisting, and chilling. he left you panting, begging, and still he wasn’t finished. no ounce of him showed signs of stopping.
when finally he was done toying, done with whatever ‘warmup’ he claimed this to be, his large cock filled you, warmth overtook with pleasure when you felt his hips grind yours. the rhythm was nothing like his fingers, nothing like how his tongue moved on your skin, it was slow. he was slow, like he were to savor every moment of this.
you clench, you squeal, beg, whatever could come from you as noise. nothing was coherent, and max liked that. in fact, it quickened his pace with a smirk as he watched your eyes roll to the back of your head and moan his name.
“you’re taking it well.” his voice is raspy, husk and faint. a moan rippled through your body at the sound of him, you could feel butterflies unleash in the warmth of your stomach as you cry out and come on his cock.
“you’re different than I expected you to be.” you say watching him roll to the pillow beside you, his blue eyes fixed on yours, they still have that hunger in them that turns you on.
“when you wear a top like that,” his breath sucks inward, a simple shake of his head at the newest dirty ideas floating in his mind, “I can’t control myself.”
a breathy chuckle escapes your lips as you curl your body into his, perfectly molding together, “I guess I’m glad I ditched the girls for you.”
a smile stretches across his lips that he carefully plants on your forehead, “thanks for the text, I hope to receive more in the future.”
“you earned yourself a spot on speed dial.”
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