Without his giving her any directions, she moved closer to J, and he, as though mirroring her, got into a kneeling position. There was something desolate in the contrast between her still, silent face and her radiant body.

“What should we do now?” J asked, his face red. He was probably nervous at the prospect of having to take the lead; all the same, his penis had stiffened again.

“Sit her on your knees.” He thought it best to refer to her as simply “her.” Now he picked up the camcorder and approached them. “Pull her close. Damn it, haven’t you ever done this before? You’re supposed to be acting. Try touching her breasts or something.”

J wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. But before he could do anything she slowly maneuvered around to face and then straddle him. She slid her hand behind J’s neck and drew him toward her, while her other hand began to stroke the red flower on his chest. Marked with nothing but the breathing of the three people, an amount of time passed that would be impossible to measure. J’s nipples quietly hardened and his penis became erect. She rubbed her neck against J’s like they were two birds caressing, almost as if she’d seen his sketches and knew exactly what he wanted her to do.

“Good. Really good.” He filmed the scene from several angles, eventually finding the best one. “Good…keep going. Lie down like that, on top of each other.”

She put her hand on J’s chest and gently pushed him down onto the sheet, then reached out and began to stroke the red flowers that led down over J’s torso, taking them one by one and slowly making her way toward his crotch. He moved behind her with the camcorder, making sure to capture the dark purple flowers scattered over her back, the Mongolian mark rippling in time with her movements. He clenched his teeth and thought to himself, this is it. Now if only it could be even better.

J’s penis was already fully erect, and he was grimacing as though he couldn’t bear the pressure any longer. She slowly lay down on her stomach, her breasts resting on J’s chest and her buttocks lifting up into the space above them. He filmed the two of them side-on. There was something obscene about the way her back was arched like a cat’s, about the unpainted space around J’s belly button, about his rigid penis. They were almost like two huge, abstracted plants. When she slowly sat up straight, straddling J’s hips, he stammered:

“Perhaps…I mean, I was just thinking.” He looked at her and J in turn. “Could you maybe do it, you know, for real?”

There was no flicker of shock or revulsion in her face, but J suddenly pushed her away as though her skin were burning him. He got to his knees, awkwardly trying to conceal his penis.

“What? You want to make some kind of a porno?”