Twilight reigns in the apartment. A comfortable-looking upholstered couch is in the background, and at the left edge of the frame there is a CD player on a small table. The title on the CD jewel box can just be read: 'A Little Bit of Mambo.' The LED indicator on the player shows the selection. It is number five.

The balding, olive-skinned, gloriously naked man has perhaps been dancing to the Latin beat. His skin glows with a fine sheen of sweat. He is apparently following the directions in the lyric: '...put your hands on the ground. Take one step left, and one step right...' but his lips as he looks back seem to be forming another part of the lyric. 'A little bit of you makes me your man.'

The room's only other human occupant (the wolf is studiously ignoring both of his pack mates) presses the tip of his tongue to his lower lip, a flush marring much of his alabaster skin. All of that delicious skin is exposed to our view. His sapphire eyes look hungrily at the spectacle the Italian has presented him. He grasps his turgid shaft and steps up behind his lover.