Llama, lost in the throes of a self-induced trance, allows the melody to guide his hands. His touch is feverish, hungry. He explores every inch of his body, each caress echoing the rhythm of the song. His breath hitches, syncing with the crescendo of the music. As the final notes play, he finds his release, a symphony of sensations that leaves him panting, his body glistening with sweat.