NOVEL NEXT Chapter 2: Make Love
The Destiny Of A Musician Is To Make Love With His Instrument
"The fate of every Chinese is structured of imperatives and rhetoric, there is noting about the truth and imagination. We train and enforce to obedience from cradle to grave, we have been rehearsing our whole life just to be able to become a background curtain of rulers, are you expecting the curtains to understand the difference between 5/4 beat and 3/4? The reason why the Party Central Committee severely cracked down on playing bands is that those guys do not need to speak, and do not need you to understand music theory as, they just released some rhythm, they can turned the spectators into audience and twisted their bodies together. This is what the party fears. What can I do? I have a family. If I don't go on follow the show, my wife and children will become widows and orphans tomorrow."
"I didn't see you being so forbearing, Li Sir."
"Little young guy, we old stuffs used to be OD too, don't think you are the only ones who know how to hight. That's all of for today, but, notice that, you guys struggled in society can now join the factory's union to continue your performance work, It is because the party and the government consider that every common person must have food to eat, only then will you guys electric guitars and electric basses be inserted into our orchestra's formation, every Fen of your salary is given by the party. Do well playing your five bars and three chords properly, you don't need to care about the solo, Director Wang's nephew will do it. After smoking, come in quickly and prepare it."
He sat in the shadows with his Tele in his arms, listening to mediocre phrases that had been polished to perfection by countless rehearsals, and listening to the enthusiastic choir singing about great leaders and beautiful lives, then he saw a bunch of tears welling up from a woman's eyes, breaking through the eyeliner, wrapped dirty foundation fell along her cheeks and staining the white collar. The women next to her are all like this.
Amidst this preseted sounds of joy and emotion, All the actors looked up to the bright distance and future with empty eyes. No one dared to explore the shadowed spectators with their eyes, where the top leaders were hiding.
He gazed gloomy into the sacred shadow, the President, his family, and other people who sit at the top of power are there. They are all sitting deep in the auditorium of this state-owned enterprise today just to show their power, use the aura of imperial power to encourage employees to be more obedient in dedicating their labor in exchange for production capacity in order to continue the war and maintain social stability, tonight's performance of patriotism is the ceremony of main expressing gratitude to great leaders of this country .
Suddenly, the cellist's face crashed at his eyes, the man was kneeling on the ground, desperately lowered his body down and looked up at his twisted face and grabbed his shoulders and shook him desperately. Then there is Li Sir at the center of the stage. His roaring expression looks very ferocious under the overhead lights.
At the same time, the baton hit his chest, then spun to shot at the strings, making no sound in the darkness.
"I fucked your mother's sold old salty sweaty vagina, I have to fuck President's wife and daughter."
He sprinted up from the chair, kicked away the musicians kneels on the ground, stepped on the pedals that he wanted, swept on the rhythm and twisted body to shake to the spotlight under the warm Fuzz low noise and everyone's gaze, and kicked over Captain Li to knocked over the podium, and amid the noise and sharp feedback, he felt burned by the bright light.
"What bastard would have expected that Bushido would become what it is today? Mateus Asato is the embodiment: passion, humility, focus, and with a transparent undertone inside. A musician's job is to have sex with his instrument on stage in public. who doesn't want their life to be real for once for even a second."
In his solo roar, he recalled clips of performances he had seen, where people were zealot about the liberator of imagination—back when there was still the Internet. He made guitar feel good, and guitar cashed back him feel good so. He greedily used all means to plunder his instrument and squeeze dry all the passion and inspiration out from her.
The remaining aroma from the stage penetrated the nasal mucosa harshly and pierced over his head summit, then, eyes were no longer distracted, he was sliding through pairs of frightened eyes in the darkness, smelling fear.
Emotions were crying and laughing in the moans of octaves and overtones, the sound is shaped into a sharp cock, scratching back and forth again again and again on the faces of party and nation leaders.
They are, yes there're the mothers of the people and the flowers of the motherland. Their temperament actually looks that they are more greater than other great guys.
As the notes twisted and hover over, he unfastened lower suit, aimed at the white purest part of the motherland ideology, offered a big dick from hard and hot, jolted the P'residents wife and daughter, and used wiered postures and instrument operations to perform ambiguous huge amounts of louds.
fuck off skills, fuck off inspiration, just FK, FK, FK, FK, FK
His nature led his genitals to insert into the strings, roaring out of the speakers, driving his erect tone to slaped their faces hard, hard, hard, harder, drilling into their brains along their tailbones, and scraped their bodies into tremble.
The President's fat face trembled with his breathing. Now he was just a poor old who cowering in a corner and confused when his wife and daughter were raping together.
So fucking hell enjoyable. Cum squirted onto the podium, false eyelashes, ties, on dresses, and on their open lips.
Never had such a good fucking time in sex.
The women's screams tore through the darkness, and flames and lights echoed in the same instant.