The Casals' wife, her voice filled with passion and desire, calls out to her husband, '¡Fóllame más!' as he slams into her, their bodies slapping together in a symphony of lust. She's a wildcat, her nails digging into his back, her legs wrapping around him, pulling him in, urging him on. Her cries are music to his ears, spurring him to give her exactly what she craves, until they both collapse, spent and satisfied, in a tangle of limbs and whispered I love yous.