Lost in the throes of his own fantasy, Listo's body responds to the silent commands of his mind. His cock, hard and eager, stands tall, begging for attention. He obliges, his hand moving with practiced ease, the friction sending jolts of pleasure through him. The scent of his arousal fills the room, a heady perfume that only serves to heighten his senses. He's a maestro, and his body is the instrument, playing a solo sonata of sensual delight.