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1 DAVID"S PASSION, PART TWO, page 7 on Wed 03 Mar 2010, 20:31


Disturbed One

"You are Brilliant!" I eagerly began, "An intellectual, lyrical genius!" I reveled in my own words. "There is no one like you. Not now. Not ever!"
"Yes", David sighed heavily,"Yes!" He was sounding strong and verile again.
"Go on." he urged, determined to complete his resolve. I was in ecstasy. This is what I had longed for from the start, but so many things, interruptions, had gotten in the way. Now he was demanding it. I was thrilled to oblige!
"What a beautifully unique creature you are." I confessed, "The world is at your feet. You are a god, David Draiman. You magnificent beast. You are a God!"
He took both of my hands, decidedly, as he stared deep into my eyes. He pulled them around his back, and placed them squarely on his firm butt. He reflexively arched toward me.
"Again!" he commanded, "Speak It!"
"You are exquisite above all!" I confessed gladly. "You alone are expedient to all things! You are my Master! And My God!"
"Then Don't Deny Me!" he raged, arching his back, pushing himself so close to me I could feel the heat of him, my heart pounding in my ears.
He exploded, "BETTA!"
At that name, my mind and body seemed to melt into one ball of fire and burst into ecstasy. The rise and fall of that crazy roller coaster. Expectation and disappointment. Pleasure of his skills on my body, and my mind. The culmination of extreme excitement, cruel anticipation, the eroticism of concede, then the pain of decline had wound tight the spring of desire in me. The rage with which he had exploded my name caused the spring to suddenly snap, unable to endure another second of his wonderfully contrived psychotropic foreplay. I was weak with fulfillment, ultimate satisfaction, and a perfect contentment I had never known. Instantly I accepted the thing we called The Sickess, for there had never been fulfillment like this in any normal affair. I never dreamed David was capable of this. Of bestowing on me such psycological pleasure mixed with all the pain he knew so well that I needed; and he needed; to bring about the kind of disturbed gratification he and I both required. There was no sex act. This was all part of The Game. He had been preparing me for this all day, and I knew that at the same time it was preparing him also. I did not yet know how it would all end. But I knew how much we both were agonizingly aware that pain, alot of pain would have to be involved. It was always about pain. The pain of excessive wanton desire for him he had meticulously created in me. The pain of torture that he had unleashed at refusing me. But he was masterfully aware that the pain would complete me. That it would complete us. I finally opened my eyes.
He was standing with my arms still around his hips. My hands still on his magnificent butt. His back was still slightly arched, his head tilted back, and he continued to sway, more slowly now, forward and backward, making low gutteral growls. I responded, hungry for him again, and we lived up to everything twisted, sick and disturbed. We nourished our souls with it.
This was what he had wanted all along. Not motions and emotions that are planned. He can get that any time. But David had discerned in me an unrivaled desire he had always coveted for himself- a wanton need for actions that spawn out of wild abandon; the thoughts we all have at the very moment of release that no one ever seems to act on; the uninhibited acts of one in the throes of ecstasy; those few seconds of unbridled passion, the release of the darkest desires in the darkest recesses of your mind that you do not dare to reveal, even to your most trusted confidant or lover because you are afraid of the ridicule that always goes along with honesty. David and I did all of that, and without even the slightest regard to what anyone might think or say. We were alot alike. And alot more disturbed than either of us had ever been willing to admit. Even to ourselves. But we knew what we each needed, and it was soothing to our disturbed souls to finally know someone that could understand. And comply.
We both had been ingrained with a lot of childhood abuse. And we both had so much pent up rage, and unremedied emotional scarring, we could have easily fit in either the mold of the abused, or the abuser. Both roles were comfortable, and sometimes even necessary to us. We were not about 'love'. I do not think either one of us is really capable of love. Oh, we can pretend. We can even convince. But we can not 'feel'. Not 'true' love. It gets all twisted. Pain is love. And love always turns to pain....

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2 Re: DAVID"S PASSION, PART TWO, page 7 on Thu 04 Mar 2010, 03:24

wow! The Guy

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