Interview with Katsuni

Katsuni sits with her legs folded, a slim Asian woman in a thin robe that clings to her hips. She answers questions about her life and her dreams with that same small, crooked smile she saves for fans. When the talk turns to sex she laughs once, soft and low, then unties the belt. The robe falls open. Nothing underneath. Her fingers slide down her stomach, slip between her thighs, and she keeps speaking while she strokes herself, voice steady even as her breath shortens. She talks about what she likes, how she touches herself when the cameras are off, how she wants to be watched. Her wrist moves faster. She spreads wider, lets two fingers push inside and draw out again, slick and shining. Her free hand cups a breast, thumb circling the nipple until it tightens. The questions keep coming and she answers every one, hips rolling, thighs trembling, until the first sharp gasp breaks her words. She comes with her eyes on the lens, quiet at first, then louder, mouth open, fingers buried deep. When it passes she leans back, catches her breath, and asks if they have any more questions.