Cochabamba's streets echo with the distant pulse of a hidden gathering, a secret known only to those who seek it. Inside, the air is charged with anticipation, the scent of exotic flowers and sweet, sticky smoke permeating the dimly lit room. As the music begins, so do the bodies, moving in a sinuous, undulating rhythm. A touch here, a kiss there, and the orgy unfolds, a tapestry of entwined limbs and flushed faces. Lips find nipples, cocks find pussies, as the crowd surges and ebbs in a tide of carnal pleasure. Cochabamba's orgy is a dance of the senses, a celebration of the body's primal urges.