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Disturbed One
It did not matter to me anymore who 'that' Betayeta was, or what, or why. All that mattered was I was here. And David Draiman was here. Now.
And I could only think of the one line of my Erasing lyrics I had submitted over and over, "Put your hands on me."
There was no sound coming from my lips, but he could easily read my thoughts. I knew that now. His power was undeniable. And he absolutely did do what I had so longed for; although completely in a way I had never dreamed. He put his hands on me. Gently, at first. His knowing fingers, spread wide apart, lightly brushed across every inch of my bare flesh. Alternately, he's close his fingers, setting them firmly together to rub roughly over my clothed parts, to me underneath.
I felt the earth literally stop turning, and time no longer existed for us. David whispered, "Let your mind go with this," and he continued to graze every bare spot on my body with the lightest touch of his fingertips. Immediately behind them, I could feel his moist lips tracing the same paths of his fingers. I felt the heat of his breath on my skin, followed by the sudden cool when he would inhale, combined with the soft ringing sounds of the labrets as they automatically followed his wandering lips.
I was standing now, in front of the stool I had reflexively slid off of. I leaned my head back, eyes shut tight, and instantaneous subliminal flashes of lyrics from 'Want' engulfed my mind, "Savor The Addiction- Savor The Affliction- Savor Me- Savore ME."
And I did. Conscious and willing. I absolutely savored David Michael Draiman until I could truly feel the Darkness cover me.
Strangely, I half-expected he may mock me, still, as he lyrically seemingly does the emotionally weakened females in various Disturbed songs. But I am not an emotionally weak female.
"Put me where you want me. Don't hold back," I whispered the challenge; resolved but guarded, in case he changed yet again.
Instead, he gently but quickly led me, my eyes still closed, a couple of steps back to a large, low-lying divan. With one hand on the small of my back, and one hand slightly against my breast, he pressed his cheek against mine, forcing his labrets to dig somewhat into my skin as he firmly maneuvered me into whatever direction and/or position he wanted. I opened my eyes. His dark eyes and black pupils seemed to be as one, mere inches from mine; he literally held me in his intoxicating spell as he whispered a continuous flow of words I could hear, but only my spirit could interpret.
Soon, I could feel the beginning violence building with each word of M.O.L. resonating, echoing hard throughout my body. And yes. We played. The Game. For what seemed like Eternity...
And all I can say is, NOW I fully and completely understand the lyrics when David says, "I think that you might have to take another taste..."
The End....Never

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