From Dreams to Deeds

I sat down on the ring, the unexpected coldness of which against my bare buttocks forced a comical yelp from my throat. I had a couple of thought's lengths to feel face-reddening embarrassment, but when Kristiina turned to grin and wink at me from the door, I knew this having happened to her as well. After my mind relaxing, I relaxed the sphincters of my urethra and rectum and let things proceed by their own weight.

Feces thick and only a little softer than stone avalanched from my bowels into the bowl and felt to massage every nerve ending of my body on its way, breaking me out all over with gooseflesh. Urea rushed from my mons to the water with frenzied pressure, and the stinging of my too-full bladder softened gradually into miniature climaxes of relief that ran bursts of hot shivers from the root of my spine up to between my shoulder blades. I leaned my head back to the wall, closed my eyes, and urinated and defecated for several purling and splashing minutes.

After emptying, I opened my eyes, wiped my backside and pubic hair, got up from the seat, pressed its flush button, and yanked up and belted fast my faithful party pants - Nobody's sienna brown Cult Skinny jeans, which, if and when worn without underpants, fit me like a second skin. After additionally washing my hands, I turned towards the door and Kristiina, who instantly blasted out a stomach felt laughter, whistled one long note, and said, "That was quite some kind of a load. How long exactly had you been holding it?"

A small laugh escaped me involuntarily, and I shrugged. "I lost my sense of time."

Kristiina burst into a new laughter as she hurried past me to the bowl and turned her rear to it. After lifting the hem of her dress from her knees to her waist to take her turn in manifesting the gospel of underpant freedom and dropping down on the seat, she asked over the starting rush and purl, "Might there have been something - or rather someone - specific causing this cerebral lapse?"

For a person I'd met twenty minutes ago in toilet queue, Kristiina read me note worthily well. "A certain Jukka," I answered truthfully, for even though the thing being still on the stage of (strong) crush had made me want to squirm, in the company of this woman it didn't feel possible. Against all my expectations, I didn't feel blushing. Kristiina's apparent shame freedom seemed to be stirring up in me something equivalent.

Kristiina whistled a note lower and shorter than the previous. Then she asked over a long, loud fart immediately following the stop of the flow of urine, "Might he be here today?"

"He might," I answered and went on. "And I may have gotten caught up in dreaming about going into his pants for so long that eventually I was about to go into mine."

Kristiina started laughing, doubling over, which was followed in a few seconds by a massive splash. "Uhh" escaped Kristiina. Then she straightened herself, looked again at me, and said, "My sweet Gabi, that was a sign of it being time for you to move from dreams to deeds."

"Wholly undoubtably," I replied, and we smiled at each other like friends of old.

Jukka Köyhälinen was, in addition to the host of the party, Jarno Kuusela, the only attendee with whom I'd exchanged more than three words. So far, I truly didn't have a bad thing to say about him. The visibly heart feeling, intense and humorous individual, who, as the only person I knew, shared my interest in Swahili outsider art and possessed the ability to hover noodles by blowing with his nose, even felt like a potential boyfriend, which, considering my inherent excessive realism, said much.

"Do you mind if I do it straight away?" I asked Kristiina, who was beginning the wiping of her posterior.

"Not at all. Go, do, and let us adhere to Wednesday."

"Yep!"

"Have good anal sex."

"Thank you."

From what and at what point Kristiina had deduced my preference of sexual interaction, I didn't even dare guessing, but thanks to her, I now headed towards the center point of the party equipped with a new layer of self-confidence.

When arriving into the living to room, I immediately noticed Jukka having left the Alias group and sitting now in an armchair in the other end of the room with a bottle of long drink in his hand. I walked through the room, looking around for somewhere to sit – preferably close to Jukka – only to perceive that during my visit to the sanitary facilities all the room's sittable surfaces, including the floor and the table standing in the middle of it, had been put to use.

The situation didn't offer a chance for any particularly subtle strategy, and then again, despite my increased self-confidence, I wasn't here and now at all as verbally loaded as characteristic to me, so I decided to proffer my ass in a way that would blend in with its surroundings. I stopped in front of Jukka, looked him into his deep green eyes, and opened the dialogue.

”Is this free? I mean... oh hell.”

I had started making an idiot of myself from the first word I'd said. I covered my face with my hand, felt blushing, and a laugh escaped me. Then I gathered myself and went on.

”Obviously it's not free, as you're sitting there. But could I come, say... on your lap? Shows to be a common practice here.”

Jukka shot a quickish glance around the room. As his eyes were directed at the sofa on the other side of the room, the corners of his mouth involuntary-lookingly rose a notch, which made me look in the same direction.

On the middle cushion of the sofa, between two young men badly acting watching television, a woman topless and crammed into jeans several numbers too small was wholebreastedly enjoying the interest of a likewise shirtless and notably younger man straddling her lap manifesting as intense sucking of neck and heated kneading of mammary glands. The both-sided sheer joy of life shining out of the activity forced my face to a smile as well.

I turned my gaze back to Jukka and shook my head. “Those two are running wild,” I said and uttered a half-involuntary laughter. This was followed by a moment of sheer silence, and I pondered if I should repeat my question. Then Jukka sipped the remains of his long drink down his throat, put the bottle down on the floor beside the chair, and patted his lap. “It's free.”

I smiled at my fortune, turned around, and sat down on Jukka's lap - not astride in a horse riding position, like most here, but like in a chair and back enough for my butt to rest against his groin. I immediately felt a growing sensation of hotness in my buttocks.

After a moment, I felt Jukka bring his arms a little around me so that his fingers lay on my lower stomach left bare by my leather top. I didn't think that the gesture was intended as sexual, but happily for me, I was in a state in which everything felt sexual. Small tingles ran from the pit of my stomach to lower in my body.

I pondered whether to ask Jukka about successfulness of the party, but because deep down I wasn't the small talk type and Jukka didn't seem to care about generic bullshit either, I remained silent.

I sank into my thoughts for a moment, and when I awoke back to this world, my legs were growing numb. I started to fix my position – and froze mid-motion.

As bemused as I was and as much as the unpleasant me inside my head wanted to contradict, I knew exactly what I had felt. The point of marble hardness in Jukka's jeans against my butt could not have been anything else than his blood-packed penis. I felt flames lick my buttocks before the fact. I granted Jukka a quick smile over my shoulder, and as calm as he tried to look, his eyes echoed with their burning the message of his sex organ. I sat back down. It was time to move on from flirtation to seduction.

I started moving my blazing backside back and forth over Jukka's erection slowly, tiny movement. Feeling his hardness against the cleavage of my butt made me see small stars, and he wrapped more of his arms around me. I kept my movements steady and us enjoying.

At one moment, I felt Jukka's penis rise harder into my cleavage. Then it fell to as it was, but right away rose again, again, yet again, and so on. I felt Jukka lean his forehead to my back and heard him sigh loudly – and that's when into me struck the truth about what I'd done. As much as I feared it, I looked over my shoulder.

Jukka raised his head up and opened his eyes to look at me. His sweaty, hazy-eyed and open-mouthed face glowed with post-orgasmic red, and I felt my own burst into one of shame. My new self-confidence had led me to my destruction. Goddamn fucking Kristiina. “Oh hell. I am sorry. I only meant to tease. You should have said...”

“I would have said if I'd wanted you to stop,” Jukka cut me off.

A spontaneous smile took over my face, even though my head was left half full of fear. “So, it didn't bother you?”

“That I had an orgasm?” Jukka grinned. “Not at all, I've always liked them.”

My smile broadened as if the corners of my mouth had been yanked with hooks. “And it didn't even bother you that you had it in a public place?”

“Well, this ain't so public. And I don't think anyone noticed.”

My smile faded out of a new fear's way, and I started glancing nervously in every direction. There weren't eyes directed at us from anywhere. Gradually, the fear made room for relief and a new smile it brought. “Doesn't seem they did,” I confirmed. After this, I got up from Jukka's lap and sat down there again, this time astride, facing him.

For a moment we sat there looking at each other and I tried feverishly to come up with something to say that would suit the situation. Eventually a laugh escaped me half out of amusement, half out of frustration with myself. “Usually I've some sort of ingenious verbal fireworks for every situation. Sorry, but now I don't know to say this any other way than simply and pithily.”

”I don't mind. Just say it.”

”I hope I didn't accidentally scare you in any way with that. I mean, you don't seem like you'd get scared by that kind of stuff, but still. I'm just feeling paranoid because I like you and wouldn't like to screw up terribly. It's not even like me to think about what someone thinks about me. But now I'm thinking.”

”I think you're lovely. And what you just did was the most erotic thing ever done to me.”

I now saw Jukka blush for the first time. I smiled at him and felt myself blush. Jukka returned my smile. Then he placed his hands on both sides of my face, leaned toward me, and pressed his lips on mine. I responded by pressing my tongue on his lips, and he opened his mouth for me. We stayed in the kiss for a small eternity. We had just detached from each other, when there was a loud bam from the direction of the sofa.

I thought that someone had burst a balloon or a paper bag, until I saw the shirtless cougar woman and her companion. The boy sat glued against the sofa as if trying to push himself through it. The left cheek was amazingly red, and blood seeped from the nostril of the same side. The cougar had stood up and looked at the boy as if he'd just tried to at least murder her family. This was exciting.

”I will not be done up the ass,” the cougar said as if spraying words with blood in the air. ”I mean, fuck, you should have said immediately that you're some goddamn perv, so I wouldn't have wasted my time on you.” She paused and looked around her. All eyes were on her, and most didn't seem to know if to laugh or be afraid. ”Throw that fucker of shithole to hell,” spoke the cougar like the supreme judge.

There followed a moment of silence, which was broken by the young man on the left cushion of the sofa. ”Don't you think you're being a little disproportionate, Helena?”

Helena shot a hostile glare at the speaker but didn't have time to say anything before there sounded from the back of the room, “In fact, you're one totally fucking stupid bitch.”

All eyes were on the speaker, who was a young man dressed in a black beret, a burgundy suit jacket, a turquoise tie, an orange T-shirt, and mismatched sneakers looking intensely from under his one eyebrow. He took off his beret and calmly returned Helena's look, which was a mixture of deadly animosity and aghast confusion.

Everyone seemed waiting for Helena's reply smelly of fire and brimstone, but when there didn't come one, the beret man went on.

”You trim your ass into unconscionable shape, wrap it up in those, and subtly whisk it while walking. All that is missing is a gold tray from under your backside and an arrow pointing at the between of your buttocks.”