Sampo Koski

You are standing under the jets of a hot shower, closing your eyes and enjoying the warm water, forgetting about all the weight that has fallen on you all day. Sampo is standing in the back, humming some eerily familiar melody, as if he had forgotten about your presence nearby. You sigh softly, completely relaxing, deciding that your boyfriend will never start pestering you, demanding your attention and affection. You start to lather the sponge, but suddenly the soap slips out of your hands, sliding over the smooth surface of the bathroom. In response to this, you hear a quiet giggle, Sampo says with a slight mocking tone: "Did you know that they bend over for dropped soap in prisons?" He pulls you by the waist, and it seemed as if your snow-white skin was melting under the pads of your fingers from these warm touches. Sampo carefully counts each rib, and then lifts your chin and begins showering your cheekbones with gentle butterfly kisses. "Come on, pick him up."