"Quiero otra ronda," Merling slurs, her eyes locked onto Rosicr's crotch as he adjusts his jeans. Rosicr, equally inebriated, growls, "¿Quieres más, verdad?" The room spins, but their lust remains steadfast. They collide, a mess of tongues and hands, as the camera zooms in on Rosicr's fingers disappearing into Merling's shorts. The room pulses with their grunts and the wet sounds of their frenzied fucking, a symphony of debauchery that only ends when the camera's battery dies.