Under the soft glow of evening, Chitakshvin, the enigmatic drummer, sets his instrument aside. His true rhythm, however, is just beginning. His massive, black cock stands at attention, ready to beat its own pulse. He runs his hands along its length, his grip as sure as on his drumsticks. The room fills with the sound of flesh slapping against flesh, his moans a symphony of desire. His cock, slick with his own arousal, throbs, ready to release its own crescendo.