In Control
At this point in his life, Jeremy was very sure he was in total control of his body. Our young batwolf high school student of 17 years had spent a lot of time testing and teasing himself in various ways. Of course, this total control he thinks he has is somewhat unremarkable. It is not like the shaolin monk, whose total control permits him to take an upside-down stance, placing the full of his weight focused on his index finger. Or the triathlon champion, or the power lifter.
It is more akin to the total control of a dog that has bred many litters. Except that Jeremy has bred no litters, and probably never will. One can say he has wasted many liters of potential beings.
Jeremy had youth on his side, the youth he'd envy 20 years later. That was backed with a good metabolism and odd diet, plus some random bursts of working out, granted him with an average body. Yes, average. Slender and pleasant to look at. He also wore contacts, even though he prefers glasses. Glasses hide the green pupils of his eyes. The inspire the 'I like your eyes' series of comments very easily.
Being the spawn of his bat dad and his wolf mom, he has no wings, a wolfy muzzle, dad's batty ears, an oddly short-haired tail, and a pretty deep-orange tint to his fur. In his average set of looks, he often wore black or red for shirts, and loved shorts but only used them for short trips. In this anecdote he has a tight red shirt he considers a favorite, and a set of tight jeans he also likes a lot. It framed up his figure quite nicely.
Clearly, he has full belief in the full mastery of his loins. And some might equate this 'mastery' with sheer loneliness and boredom, but that's hardly the case. Our boy is fairly normal, really. He has had his attempts to share his knowledge, attempts he holds dear in his memories. Awkward attempts, but such that make memories, which he uses to fuel his practice.
If you haven't caught on by now, he fully believes he has mastered the art of masturbation. It is a very narcissistic form of art, and is actually a bit difficult to comprehend in its deepest. If it were simple, there wouldn't be any confusion about whether it is good or bad for you, and how often should you do it. If someone asks you what part of masturbation do you like the best? You could answer the process, or the conclusion.
Jeremy is all for the process. This is the main reason why he has attempted to master masturbation. He has grown to dislike the reeling feeling after the wonderful conclusion to such sessions. That is truly the anti-climax of anti-climaxes. It is a fleeting feeling, truly, but it is never pleasant. Pretty much impossible to get used to.
Our batwolf friend practiced and practiced, forcing his body to hold on to the load, to keep his loins hot, hard and pumped, and the pleasure received always near its peak. There was always a moment where he would slip, and it was by this slip of will that he orgasmed. By then a lot of pleasure was built up and the climax was pretty worthy.
He tried various dildos to master his tailhole, too. There were tests with small inductions of pain, mirrors, various surfaces, different clothes. Stories, partners, pictures, videos, research papers. This was mostly a daily practice. Then one day he decided that he would keep those loads.
This proved to be even more fruitful. It showed him that he really had some good self-control, and it didn't mean that he had to stop idly toying with himself. The built up loads served as wonderful rewards to the lengthened process and the waiting. It would also give his potential partners a great show.
Jeremy the batwolf liked masturbating more for the act itself than the orgasm, he has a glaring weakspot in his nipples, and likes big things up his butt. Yes, he's gay.
Not like he acts much like it, though. Very conveniently, no harassment comes his way. He's just a normal gay guy. Looking for a job, studying at the local high school. There's a share of people that really like him, both online and offline (something you nowadays must clarify, to some extent). And often, you wouldn't write a story involving the life of a normal gay guy.
However, this story is about Jeremy, so we all assume he either will become remarkable, do something remarkable, or maybe both. Maybe he will never be the remarkable one in this story. But something truly remarkable will happen.
Today is a hot, sunny day, something particular to where he lives. It is Autumn there, but the warmth set in by the Summer has not dwindled. He sits patiently on his desk, tapping at it a little and looking around. The glance scans his peers, their desks, what's on them, the computers, the walls. The professor.
The professor. His name is professor Stanley, and he teaches programming. Programming in C++. It's a very nice class that gives you a nice edge. His way of teaching is very easy to work with and get used to, and you learn and hardly get frustrated. Jeremy knew that professor Stanley was pleasant to look at. By looks alone, maybe you could put him at 40.
"Now please use the example I have projected onto the whiteboard to make your own programs. You have ten minutes, then I'll check your work."
He stared at the professor. Stanley the wolf had aged well, and probably took care of his looks. Just enough to look slender and disregard his metabolism at this point, but not too much to make his vanity stand out. He filled his blue button shirt nicely, and his dark brown pants where somehow quite noticeable in their classiness. These trousers also filled him with various thoughts:
'Is that his boner? That's clearly a boner.' 'I'm staring at the teacher's boner. Oh god.' 'That cock must be so big.' 'I have a boner.' 'I'm staring at the teacher. Goddamn it!' 'He's not looking. Don't look at me looking!' 'Boner. Must. Stare.'
His mouth salivated a little. From Jeremy's point of view, he saw a plainly visible tent that only the aroused penis was capable of making.
'Why hadn't I seen this before? I sit here every day?' 'I have been missing so much!' 'Why is he doing that?!' 'Give me!'
The wolf Jeremy stared at felt quite the sudden surge of hormones, and given that his desk hid his crotch so well, he gave himself the freedom of having a tent. In the corner of his eye he knew there was a student, a particularly good one. He couldn't have known that this particularly good student was staring at the wonderful boner in his pants, the one he gave himself the freedom of forming.
With a slow motion, starting from the classroom's exit, he scanned his students to make sure they were at least looking at either the computer or his projected example.
Of course, his scanning gaze reaches Jeremy. Suddenly, there was a warm spark, one that rode up to both men's heads, then spread back down in a hurried cluster, flustered the hearts, warmed their cheeks and stirred their crotches. It then brought them a lot of confusion.
In the few seconds that Jeremy's teacher noticed his student staring back, he wondered why his brows and eyes were shaped in the way they were, why his eyes were angled in that manner, and somehow concluded that the boy noticed his arousal. Then a few more seconds passed and he noticed that he could not pull away from looking at the boy, and the boy refused to pull away and even looked hungry. Even more seconds pass and he worries that maybe other alumni are noticing that his face is arranging into something weird too and he couldn't have that. Somewhere in his head, "Abort Mission" blared like the terrible alarm it was.
Somehow, more seconds passed, and he was frustrated that he couldn't pull away, worried about why the boy wasn't pulling away. Then he insanely thought that he could will down his penis into flaccidity, and found that the opposite was actually happening. His underwear bikini and pants were actually putting quite the strain now. With a soft, very personal moan, his member twitched in its confines and he managed to pull the will to tilt his head and eyes away.
Warmth and butterflies were in Jeremy, he was also quite moist with sweat. The teacher saw his gaze, understood his gaze, and even looked at him as if he was. Then turned with such the worried look, which permitted him more time to just stare at the thing. And he could swear he saw it twitch. He would be pleased to know that it did twitch. Then he was getting his own member aroused in response.
Professor Stanley now had a very warm feeling coming from the left side, it was effectively repelling him from looking in that direction. He was fully aware of the hungry looks shared with the student, and somewhere in his mind, he didn't want to just let it go. Jeremy was a good student, and he was also a good-looking student. But any interaction with Jeremy might lead to tons of trouble. So much trouble.
Jeremy felt uncomfortable. He tilted this side and that. The seat was not going to hide his crotch, and he needed it to go down along with his confusion. There was only one thing to do.
"I'm go- I'll be at the bathroom..."
The boy's voice shook a little, and it was barely above a whisper. It was full of worry, and he promptly rushed out the classroom to his announced place. There was some intent thrown in there, but it was probably very accidental. Still, the professor caught on to this accidental intent, and was very unsure of what to do with it.
He glanced at the boy moments before he left the door, and that triggered something else. Stanley's mind had carefully saved mental pictures of Jeremy, because his mind really liked how Jeremy looked like. But because of his training and standing, they were filed back and forgotten; until now. His heart raced some more. The feeling of having to do something about it, the need for relief and the need for Jeremy that suddenly popped up would soon become overwhelming. The man knew this, and sadly (or thankfully), he was incapable of preventing this.
The teen takes a right then a left in a very automatic manner. Audibly with plenty echoes the door to the boys' bathroom is slammed open, echoed into itself, and out to the halls. With class in session, these were empty. "Good", Jeremy thought. They would not notice the tight, teacher-induced boner in his pants as he managed to scurry into the lavatory. Propping onto the sink, he stared at himself through the mirror.
There was a short gasp, him noticing how flustered he looked, red and sweaty all over. He closed his eyes a little, feeling tired and tense. Closing his eyes he panted and looked idly at the white sink, just gathering his thoughts. A few minutes passed this way, but his erect member was really persistent.
"I guess I'll have to go back with this..."
Someone else enters the bathroom and steps past him into one of the cubicles. Jeremy flinched and clenched onto the smooth ceramic. The kind of grip that would've broken the sink if he were any stronger. There was the paranoid thought that maybe, just maybe, the professor just entered one of the cubicles. The same professor that gave him the huge boner.
Stiff, and suddenly feeling cold, he managed to shift his feet so as to carry him out. One step; two steps; three-
"Jeremy... Let me talk to you."
It was the professor's voice. It came from the cubicle. He flinched again, feeling hypnotized by the plead. Like a very powerful magnet, he was pulled toward the cubicle.
'What could he possibly want in here of all places!?' 'Is... is he gay too?' 'But he's like, forty!'
Protests filled his head, but they weren't enough to drown the combination of his desire and curiosity. And suddenly he found himself in front of the open cubicle, with the taller professor standing before him. It was happening, Jeremy thought. There the professor was, with the very enticing tent still in his pants, now seemingly pointing at him. He was closer to his professor than ever, and something felt faintly wrong. Only faintly.
"Close that door, Jeremy."
He did so like a puppet, shaking very slightly. Jeremy was clearly worried, wondering heavily about what would happen and what their implications were. Looking at the professor, he couldn't feel scared though. Somehow there was a predominant line of thought. Very hopeful. The feeling that something good was going to happen. Though this was muddled and confusing. What good could happen in a closed cubicle with a man twice your age and a pair of boners?
The boy continued to glance at the professor's face, down to the boner, back up, and down again. It was real of course, but this was the kind of remarkable thing that he only read about. Truly, it was happening to him now. But just to make sure it was not just a daydream, he reached out to touch.
"Would you like to do something about this- ohhh~"
It felt so wonderful to both males when Jeremy squeezed the tent. He loved how thick it was, how it stretched the fabric and teased them both, hiding under those pants and underwear. Not the first time he had touched a male, of course, but this was an unique set of circumstances. It also helped that he hadn't had a proper partner in a bit over a year.
This was not Stanley's first time, not by a long shot. But he couldn't have imagined how good it felt, the combined taboo of the situation and how he was lusting for the boy in front of him, both combining to flood his libido to great heights. His eyes closed in reaction to the squeeze, and then met Jeremy's once more after they opened. There was a lot to say and a lot to do. If the boy hadn't run away and was doing quite the opposite, he had a wonderful opportunity in his hands. Of course, it was wrong. But he was confident no one would find out.
"It's ok, Jeremy..."
He tried to reassure the boy, keeping a soft tone to his voice. Jeremy's chest pounded loudly, filled with contained excitement. His hand reached for the bulge again, and squeezed. He squeezed and fondled and played with it, making Stanley exhale as pleasure shot through him. Promptly the boy unbuttoned and unzipped the pants, opening them up and revealing the bulge in a bright blue color. There was some more squeezing through the thinner underwear fabric, and it definitely felt eager to burst out of those clothes.
Stanley's hand floated uneasily beside him, but soon found their way over the boy's head as he got busy exploring. With closed lips he moaned when he felt his eight inches of penis pop out, the underwear and pants having lost their power over the erection. In its break for freedom, the confined air of the cubicle was filled with musk that overpowered Jeremy. His hand grasped the unique flesh of that hard member with much intent.
Quietly he tightened his grip on Jeremy's head, and with a nudge he urged for them to switch positions. The boy sat on the closed toilet seat with a clear angle on his older partner's crotch, and as comfortable a seat as he was gonna get in there. Neither knew or wondered if the other had done this before, but they definitely had. It mattered little, because now they were doing it with each other. And hell, it felt good.
Jeremy continually licked his lips as he tugged and pulled on the erect member. He was enraptured at how good it felt under his fingers, in his palm, as he dragged it back the opposite direction, grinding it, the little veins that made sure it was hard and pumped. It got quickly slathered with pre-cum, which in turned added to the musk and the wonderful texture in the stroking. Then he could wait no more and kissed the cockhead, tilting forward to wrap his lips around it, sliding some more to slide it further in and have it rest on his tongue. It forced his jaw as wide as it could get, the member was quite thick.
With experience in hand he managed to suck on this larger than average member. It was a lot like his own, except for the best part. That he could suck on it. In turn, his own member sent pangs of neediness, but he enjoyed how it felt. Confined and grinding against the tight, stretched fabric. There would be attention for it later.
Professor Stanley managed his moans with deep breathing and controlled exhaling. A small one escaped his mouth every now and then, but nothing much audible. Whenever the penis gets sucked on, it's a wonderful experience. Somehow, this felt better. Maybe it was part of all that taboo and special circumstance that also boosted the pleasure. The mind can work in strange ways.
Fact of the matter was that the boy was doing a wonderful job, and now there was no question that this boy was not a virgin. He was loving his lips there, sliding and wetting his member, teasing out more pre-cum out of it. Idly his fingers brushed the boy's hair and caressed his scalp, and his hips reacted by humping forward, gently.
"Let's switch up... I want you inside me."
In a sudden inspiring moment he told Jeremy, pulled his loosened pants up a moment, got his black wallet and opened it for a condom, giving it to the boy. Then he urged them to once again switch sides, with the professor's exposed buttocks in the teenager's gaze. It looked wonderful, and it was all his to defile. Stanley wanted to feel something inside him, believed that he had time for it, and wondered how big Jeremy could be. He also wanted to be surprised be it. If it was small, it would be comfortable. Conversely, if it was big, it would be very, very pleasurable.
Stanley glanced around for a moment at the dim lit confines of the cubicle. He propped with is arms against the wall. Clearly an unglamorous and vulnerable place. But he didn't care now any more than he did before. He was pleased to listen to the dropping fabric and the jingling metal, meaning that Jeremy was disrobed. Then he felt his cheeks being spread by a very warm piece of flesh. "Oh god...", he went.
A bit awkwardly he opened the condom packet and managed to cover his erection with the latex. This was probably the first time he actually used a condom...
In a testy manner he caressed Stanley's hips and supple rump, judged where his entrance was and directed his own hard eight incher to it til he felt the warm rim, snug between both asscheeks. He made the push and felt amazing as this velvety flesh squeezed on his member tighter and more pleasurably than any hand or mouth could. Jeremy was no virgin, but this was the first ass he was penetrating. It certainly felt very de-virginizing.
He moaned loudly once he felt that he was in as far as he could. His hands gripped Stanley's hips, and he paused to gather his thoughts.
"Fuck me, Jeremy."
Those were three powerful words. Like a jolt his hips started pulling, preparing for a good pumping. He gathered his breath and squeezed the man's sides some more. Stanley's fingers clutched and slid from the wall tiles, the dragging motion blasting him with pleasure. Suddenly he's pushing all that back in, not knowing how easily this always catches the recipient off-guard. That's also the most pleasurable way to pump into a man. Keep him off his proverbial toes.
Stanley gripped his own, slickened erection, getting bumped back and forth after Jeremy had gathered the lust and rhythm to do so. It ground on the flesh that hugged it so nicely, granting them the ecstasy that never gets old. As this built up, Jeremy leaned closer and closer to the professor, all the pleasure stuffing his other functions
His cheeks were pressed tightly on the man's back moments later, his hands grasping the surprisingly full chest of his professor as he held onto him dearly while his hips pumped the man back and forth like they both so desired.
"Oh, Jeremy... I'm almost there."
"Me too, professor..."
The pair moaned, sometimes in chorus and sometimes off, sometimes a little too loud. They whined every now and then with a push or pull. Stanley whacked off his hard member, it edging so close. He did his best to point the hard piece at the now open toilet, to keep the mess from getting any messier. Jeremy was more or less safe with the condom, quite gleeful at how easily he could forget he had one in the first place.
Jeremy believed he was in total control, but he was never expecting this. An errant thought told him that the only people with full control of how to fuck some ass are porn stars. He did his best to hold on to process, the best part of pleasure. There was another errant thought about the condom. It was a sad thought, one that wanted to fill the man's ass with cum instead of filling some latex covering. But as errant thoughts are, they pop in and get out, uninvited as they come.
There was that familiar feeling, where you being to slip off the edge. Those last moments before falling, losing all the built up pleasure. Getting back to reality. Those were the moments Stanley and Jeremy were at now. The edge of the edge.
A pulse, then a sigh. A wrecking surge of feelings that make his fingers tighten their grip. He jerks strangely and slightly, and lets out a moan he feebly intends to catch. His youthful and large cock, snug in the confines of Stanley's rectum, jerks and twitches the most. Blood flows in that big surge throw it, and his seed pushes through, rushing to get out. It's one of the best, biggest orgasm Jeremy has ever felt. It makes him shiver with feelings of hot and cold, getting goosebumps and making his hairs stand on end. All that cum dammed up in the condom. That latex was doing its job.
Inside Stanley there's heightened warmth, and the subtle pulses of that youthful member inside him tease him so. He forgets that his hand is working his own erection for that split second, granting him that last bit of pleasure that sets him over the edge. He suddenly grows weak, his focus stolen from him greedily by his orgasm. This too is one of the most wonderful climaxes the professor has ever had. His hand shakes a little, gathering the will to point back into the open bowl. Cum had managed to squirt into the sides of the seat and cover before the rest of the load falls harmlessly and somewhat sadly into the water.
Their breathing was heavy. It was the moment of anti-climax, but it was shared, and it didn't feel so bad. Something amazing and remarkable had happened in the judgment of Jeremy and Stanley. He felt somewhat enlightened. This is what some people call afterglow. He felt lightheaded as his lungs worked to recover all the spent oxygen. Idly he held onto the professor, feeling somewhat possessive of the man. Letting go seemed like the worst of ideas.
Stanley felt loved within Jeremy's honest embrace. But he felt this was just lust, truly forbidden lust. And they had managed to work it out. There was much joy in that fact. He pressed his more mature and rough hand against Jeremy's, which held onto his chest. The older hand squeezed the younger one softly.
"Time to get out now. We'll get caught if we stay here any longer."
The boy nodded to himself, holding on to his softening member to pull it out of the man's butt. He looked at it for a moment. White blotches were spread around his cock, the load that was blocked by the condom. It still felt warm and comfortably sticky, and exuded the best of musks. He slid his fingers around it before tugging on to the tip, taking it off and dropping it into the bowl for it to flush. A smirk crept upon the boy's face as he noticed all that seed that was spread on there.
Feeling quite responsible, the professor took some toilet paper to clean up any stray splatters of his cum. He figured that the musk would linger, still, but musk is generally hard to pin on anyone unless you've personally encountered it. It lingered like a heavy fog, and it gave off the clear message of 'sex' to the brain. There was nothing to do about it, merely to enjoy it like a natural aroma.
Young Jeremy's lips were pressed with Professor Stanley's a few moments later. Jeremy was easily sucked into this as the professor enveloped him with his stronger arms and superior height, snuggling the boy closely and doing his best to kiss some love and reassurance into him. The pair kissed for a solid minute.
"I am not so sure this will happen again. But I liked it."
Stanley then grasps the boy's shoulders to gently pull him apart and get a better look at his face, needing to see his reaction. Jeremy didn't know it, but he was looking back almost like a sad puppy. The professor knelt down, intently brushing closely on the boy and picking up his pants and underwear, lifting them up where they should be.
"Let's get covered up and get on with the day."
Silently in agreement, Jeremy stuffed his cum-covered member back into his underwear, very deliberately, zipping and buttoning his pants back up. Stanley had pulled up his own clothes by now, but Jeremy swatted away the man's thick fingers to do the buttoning and zipping up favors himself.
The professor had a lot to say, and wondered about just how many questions filled Jeremy's head. He also knew that they really did not have that much time. And had an oddly romantic intent of leaving things unsaid. There was a lack of time for finding any enlighten, and any teacher-student situation outside the class room would be suspicious. maybe Jeremy could stay after class... But he would ask nothing of the boy.
'He's so young.' He thought. As it was commonly proven, it's easy to overpower the life of your lover particularly if there's a big age difference. It was confusing to even suddenly think of the boy as a lover. There were ideas urging him to just push this aside. Nothing happened. Teasing any more ideas will give way to future trouble. He wanted to tear some of his hair off.
Stanley walked away with this mess of thoughts in his head, suddenly looking a bit tense. Jeremy could only watch, and sighed profusely. He waited tactfully for the professor to leave, and idly wondered that maybe the man should've cleaned up his hands. Then he shrugged.
Water granted the boy a soothing feeling that he needed. Stanley was soothing with his embrace and his kiss, but it was also confusing, and this brought tension to him. Water also cleaned him up somewhat, along with some of that very average bathroom soap you get from those dispensers. He waved his hands up to his muzzle for a few sniffs and deemed them clean enough, then he walked away, hiding both of them into his pants.
The halls were still empty. He absentmindedly fetched in those pockets for his cellphone, brought it up into view, tapped one of the keys to light it up and noticed that there were 10 minutes left of Stanley's class. It was an awkward reminder. He had to face the professor he just fucked, the same one who left him pretty damn confused. Jeremy paused right beside the classroom door.
He'd still have to pick up his stuff. There was the itch to just leave and sort this out in solitude at home, but there was one class left. The batwolf closed his eyes and sighed again.
'I'll just wait and walk around til class is over...' He silently figured. Jeremy wasn't sure looking at the professor again was a good idea, at least for a few good hours, and there was the paranoid feeling that maybe someone would very intelligently deduct that he and the professor were gone for 40 minutes of gay fucking. That would be the worst possible result, especially if it's someone that disapproves.
Jeremy would avoid this by avoiding them and running to pick his stuff up, and maybe even skipping that one last class. He could afford to skip it. With that in mind he walks away from the door to wander the halls for the last 4 minutes of class.
Once those 4 minutes are up, the door opens and Jeremy's peers walk out, directed in the direction opposite of where the batwolf was wandering. He leaned against a set of lockers, watching patiently as his acquaintances emptied the room, before he headed back there.
The teen batwolf padded solemnly into the classroom, head down and hands in pockets. He felt Stanley's gaze, and he was hoping he wouldn't get even addressed at. Professor Stanley was in all his power to direct himself to Jeremy in a more proper way, he could completely relinquish and downplay the orgasm they had just shared. Jeremy knew this and the professor was perfectly aware. There was also a feeling of connection that assured them that such was not really going to happen.
A few steps into the room has Jeremy moving past Stanley's desk. His nose is keen to gathering Stanley's musk now, after being bombarded by it. Jeremy salivates a little, suddenly feeling bothered at how easily his body is reacting to Stanley's presence.
It was more than that.
Jeremy's pants had grown another boner, and the boy was very, very eager to use it. But he felt that if he just up and did it, he would both succeed and mess everything up after succeeding. He felt that he didn't have any right, first of all. He also hoped that maybe they could, in fact, do it again. Jeremy wanted things to be as little awkward as they possibly could. And the only one with the power of it all was Stanley.
The professor constantly reminded himself that despite how vulnerable he now is to Jeremy, he knows that Jeremy is unaware, and that any decision Stanley makes in their regard will heavily influence the boy. He sees him grab his stuff and avoid his gaze. This in itself is an example of the accidental power he has gained over the boy. As long as he looked at Jeremy, the boy would avoid looking in that direction.
The boy walked away, still insisting in avoiding the professor's eyes. Stanley just kept silent, giving Jeremy his space and letting him leave with nothing said. The door is shut close a moment later, and Stanley exhales as if he had held his breath the whole time Jeremy was there. He actually was breathing quite normally.
There was a shared longing that they didn't know they shared. Stanley was not so sure it would happen again because he was very sure Jeremy wanted nothing to do with this ever again. He was telling himself that, when he said it to the boy.
Jeremy suddenly felt that this should not be that big of a deal. He was fully aware of the consequences of this, or so he believed. If something was going to happen, he wanted to know. If nothing was going to happen, he wanted to know too, so he could stop thinking about it. He could only trust that the adult would make the adult decisions, as well. And that maybe they could find a way to do that again. With that in mind, he managed to push those thoughts aside to hop into the last class of the day and go through it with his peers, as he should. No odd looks were shared, and Jeremy was thankful of that. Odd thoughts did cross minds, though, but Jeremy would never know.
Professor Stanley was quite unaware of this, but he would receive a phone call from that boy that fucked him later on in the evening. What would result of that is impossible to know for both of them. For now.
Much like his experiences before, Jeremy held his time with Professor Stanley with careful dearness. It was certainly a memory he could use to fuel the practice for the mastery of his body. He now had 'Fucked an older man' checked in his mental accomplishments, though how this is of any significance is totally subjective.