The director could tell she was distracted. The setting was the old west and Elle K was playing the Madam of the brothel above the saloon. They were in the middle of the climactic, final sex scene where Billy the Kid finally gets a crack at the Madam.

Billy, played by Sam Storm, and three other girls were holding Elle down on the bar top and going at her every which way. But Elle kept looking off, away from everyone. The scene kept having to be cut because no one knew when to switch positions since Elle was forgetting important lines like, "Now lick my ass" and "Ooh I love it when you lick my ass" and "Please don't stop licking my ass oh God yes hooray."

What she was looking at was the cheap, rental player piano up against the set wall. It didn't even look like it belonged in the old west, but it played. It was playing during this scene. "Ragtime." No one on the set knew if "Ragtime" was from the Old West or another time period, but it was the one song on the menu that came the closest.

Elle was hypnotized by the piano keys. She would occasionally nudge one of the girls sucking on her nipples aside if her view was blocked. When she had to tickle another girl's clitoris, no one could figure out why it looked so false. But it was because her fingers were fiddling the piano keys on the girl's vagina as she listened to the music. At one point, Sam Storm had to literally grab her hand, wrap it around his cock and stroke it with her. Everyone's frustration limit had been long since crossed. They all knew it was going to be a long day. And then it happened.

Five minutes had passed with Sam inside Elle's vagina, who was on her back, and the girls were working on the breasts. So it was time for Elle to be vagina fucked from behind for five minutes, before the anal. As she got up, the girls were supposed to go crazy on Sam's cock while Elle masturbated on all fours, waiting for the cock.

The girls did as directed, and Elle did get up on all fours and began masturbating. But her eyes were on the piano, and her fingers went on playing the song on her labia. The girls were hard at work on Sam, so no one noticed Elle crawl down the length of the bar, climb off and sit down at the piano. No one except the cameraman, who panned along with her until he bumped the director in the head. Before the director had a chance to exclaim, the room was awash in the gentle opening notes of a beautiful Chopin piece.

Everyone stopped where they were and stared at Elle. One of the girls who had been sucking on Sam's cock just stayed on her knees, her eyes wide on Elle, and her mouth hanging open with Sam's cock still resting on her lower teeth. The cameraman continued recording. The director held his hand to his head where he had been rubbing the bump from the camera. No one said a word. And Elle played.

She played athletically. She had not broken a sweat all day, but suddenly her body was shimmering. The sound was sad but filled with anger. They all watched as her vertebrae bulged from the small of her back when she would bend in and pounce on the keys. One of the girls whose finger was still on another girl's nipple began unconsciously rubbing harder and harder with the music until the second girl felt the irritation and removed the finger. And they continued to listen.

Tears fell from Elle's eyes onto the keys. Occasionally she would let out a grunt. After all the sex scenes they had seen her do, it was the first time any of them had heard an honest grunt from her. And they knew the difference immediately. And it startled them.

Elle could not remember the name of the piece. But she could remember the Junior High School assembly stage where she had played it in front of thousands of people. Where she played it after practicing it under three different teachers over eight years time. She was only fourteen and people had flown from other parts of the world to come to her junior high school to hear her play. And when she would stop playing in just a minute, Elle knew she would hear the same eruption of applause that engulfed her so tight that night only seven years ago on her junior high school assembly stage. Before she got pregnant and before her abortion and before she ran away and before she even turned fifteen. She was there again.

Elle stopped playing.

The final note faded. And then there was nothing. For about ten seconds. Nothing.

Then she heard one of the girls exhale. She turned around and saw a room full of people, naked as she was. And she saw the camera. Everyone had dumb smiles on their faces.

The song was over. Elle got up from the piano and climbed up on the bar and got on all fours to finish her sex scene. No one else in the room moved an inch.