27 Pamela Anderson will certainly not bring me luck tonight.

07h54pm I'm on stage with my group near my beautiful woman wearing a dress too sexy for my taste. Final checks, the stratocaster strings, ok. Shit, my mediator has just fallen. I pick up very classy, ​​get up, I open my shirt and reveals my sublime abdominals under the cries of girls already wet. I go back my balls that were a little cramped in my jeans slim and wink at the audience. While receive having fun, I get a kick in the ass. It's usually Diego's signal who seeks to to warn me that everyone is ready and it's time for me to stop playing morons. Here we go. The rope vibrates, I can feel the first sensation of the live in seeing the first asses stir. I lick my lips to prevent my saliva from sinking. I wag my mediator, enthusiastic shouts and small jumps are the guilty of boobs that jump. Definitely, I like music.

"Because you do not want to burn" My wife starts to sing, my cock moves. Wanting to immerse myself in the smell of a festival inviting famous bands, I take a deep breath. Strange, so that's the smell of a big festival, a smell of sausage and fries?

I knew it, I played badly this afternoon. As I contort myself to provoke an orgasm to the women who look at me, I feel an anal itch. I knew it, I played badly this afternoon. Passing a stand, I came across a competition of the biggest eater of pimento, in general I would not have participated, but today it was different. Yes, today a particularly interesting lot was at stake. A card game of the heroines from a 90s series that I watch from time to time could be won. (Baywacth.) Unique and beautiful, silicone and completely redone for the pleasure of all teens in the world who fiddled with their noodle while watching this series and its sirens. Whoever produced this series was a visionary or a perverted, to each his way of seeing things. But right now I'm paying for these pimento. A fucking desire to shit take me in live and of course, you never find a loo on stage. My belly makes me suffer terribly. It is also noisier than a 1000 GSX-R and my gas is more harmful than his own. I turn around and see Diego on the drums which as soon as he has time wiggle his chopsticks in the air to drive out the bad spirit. I am polluting the whole scene and I fear that the entire area of ​​the festival will end up in a disaster area. A transversal glance makes me understand that my Tina whiter than a marshmallow is on the verge of discomfort. Stan wavers, his steps are unstable, he staggers and to stabilize, he leans against a metal pillar. I understand now that Pamela Anderson is not going to bring me luck tonight.

Tina "Thank you, a little technical incident. Sorry everyone we are back in 5 minutes. "

I do not need more. Already in the starting blocks, my departure is dazzling. I run like a nymphomaniac who have fire in the ass that would burn her since more than 2 months. I run to the back of the stage, jump three meters away. Yes, I forgot to mention that I am very good at sports. I spot the place of meditation namely toilets straight ahead. A tree. Pilgrimage site of the man of a need squeeze rises within twenty meters. I redouble speed, slip to stop while undoing my belt and crouched. If I was not used to my own smell, I'm sure I'd already have fainted, but I'm the strongest and I'm enduring. While I unmold my cake, I am taken of a doubt that turns very quickly into confirmation. Indeed, I left a little hurriedly and I did not take any paper with me. Needless to say, right now I'm seriously in shit. I look at my hands, I also inspect the very fine grass a little wet in front of me and I have already found the solution to my problem. Problem temporarily set. Panties pulled up and pants stained. I go back on stage this time without running because I do not feel too comfortable of my back train. I ask for a bucket of water to wash my hands, then join my group. When she feel my arrival, my Tina departs more than four meters from me. A problem just settled, a new one is announced.