‘Yes, because I told you.’

‘No, I can tell.’

‘How?’

‘A man doesn’t become a man until her mother dies.’

‘Her mother?’

‘Fine, his mother. Vittu! You know what I mean.’

‘Then what am I? A boy?’

‘Yes, a bald little boy who wants to crawl back inside the beachball. Where it’s so warm and cosy and the food comes through a tube.’

‘I’m not bald. My hair might be thinning a bit, but I’m not bald.’

‘And what about this little boy? Oh my, so soft.’

His prick lay limp and wrinkled on his stomach, but soon swelled between her bony fingers. She pulled back his foreskin without mercy, tugged it down, again and again, and laughed as he writhed to get away from the pain. In the end, he had to heave her off him. He ended up on top. He looked down on her. Her hair across the pillow. Her lips parted in a mischievous grin. The sharp shadows of her ribs and her four hard teats. A shaggy patch of fur below her bellybutton.

At first, he had found her four nipples unsettling. She barely had any breasts, only those four colourless buttons that were always stiff. Now, they made him insanely horny. Her strange appearance filled him with a feeling he’d never experienced before. It was as though he’d found something unknown and forbidden in the forest, which he could stick his cock in as often as he pleased. Some kind of folkloric hulder in heat, risen from the decomposing remnants of a porn mag, hidden for years under a spruce tree.

She waited for him to enter her. But he made her wait. His cheeks were hanging down and growing heavy with blood. His small, gold identity tag dangled between their mouths. His upper arms trembled with the effort. In the end, she couldn’t take it any longer. Her head shot up, she sank her teeth into his shoulder and once she bit down, she kept biting until she drew blood; that much he had learnt. He thrust his hips; it was like driving a stake into the heart of a vampire. Her scrawny body stiffened into an arc and her face tensed. He gathered up her arms and pinned them down above her head and picked up a leg and pushed it down into the mattress by holding it under the knee. He thrust a few more times before picking up the other leg as well. She was unresistingly bendy; her legs went back as far as he wanted, and she let him bend them; she let him do whatever he wanted. The headboard banged against the wall. She lay there, rubbing her fingers on her genitals, trying to catch his eyes with a mesmerising, dangerous gaze. The smell emanating from her bushy slit was so concentrated he turned his face away. She growled, that was the only word for the sound she made.