The cacti seemed to form a visible wall, thin and loopy-spined against the vast red canvas of the desert night. Slowly, as if no one had eyes watching, four figures emerged, barely clad, each carrying a bouquet of fragrant flowers meant to honor the night. Lust and passion wafting from them like heady incense, they converged, and the desert rejoiced in the moment. Their bodies, stroked in shimmering sweat, echoed the heat of their desire.