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The piano keys click under the maestro's skilled fingers, each note echoing through the empty hall like a whisper of longing. His body responds to the music, his cock tenting his pants, aching for release. He pauses, listening to the silence, then decides to indulge his lonely craving. His hands leave the piano, moving to his belt, then his zipper. His hard cock springs free, throbbing and ready. He wraps a hand around it, stroking slowly, in time with the melody he's playing. The loneliness of the hall amplifies his pleasure, each stroke echoing through the empty space, his moans of pleasure the only accompaniment to his solo performance.