Categories > Celebrities > Metallica > Lion's Share

Lion's Share

by Cerilla 0 reviews

Category: Metallica - Rating: R - Genres:  - Warnings: [X] - Published: 2014-04-13 - 1861 words - Complete

0Unrated
Dave pulled aside the sheet covering Maria's naked body. She was sleeping on her right side, giving her back to him. Ready for a morning round of sex, he caressed her arm and kissed her neck to awaken her. He liked her skin, soft and warm with the scent of sex still on it. It wasn't too early, but enough to make her want to sleep for a little longer. Maria stirred and opened her eyes, turning her head to face Dave, but he kept her in position and captured her mouth in a slow kiss; he grabbed her breast and gently pinched her nipple, turning her on, awakening her senses.
Dave ran his hand down her body, caressing her belly and hips, down to her crotch. Maria groaned as he slipped his fingers through her folds; his mouth went to her shoulder, to kiss and nibble it, as his hand worked on her, rubbing her clit and teasing her entrance.
The phone started to ring, disrupting the two lovers. “Fuck, just ignore it, please.” Maria whined.
“I was planning to.” Dave replied, continuing his work on her. His dick was getting harder and harder as he rubbed it on her round ass.
He picked up a condom from the night stand and quickly opened it and pulled it on; Maria lifted her left leg and he entered her.
Before he could start moving, the phone rang again. “What. The. Hell.”
“Don't mind it.”
“It's not easy.”
“Concentrate on this” Dave said, stroking Maria's pussy and pushing deeper into her, making her moan. They let the phone ring, moving in a slow, lazy rhythm; she came first, quickly followed by him. He slipped out and got up to dispose of the condom.

The phone rang one more time; whoever it is, he sure doesn't lack perseverance. That time, Dave went to answer; if anything, just to make it stop.
“The fuck you want?” He grumbled into the receiver. Politeness wasn't exactly something he was concerned about; all he wanted was going back to bed.
As he listened to the person from the other side of the phone speaking, Dave's expression became stone-cold. He hung up quickly without saying anything, went back to his bedroom and put on some clothes in a hurry.
“Hey, what's up? Did something bad happen?” Maria asked concerned, looking at the visibly upset man.
“I'm going to the record store.” He said brusquely.
“What's going on at the record store?”
He went out without answering and left her alone. What the hell? She thought. What's wrong with him?
Maria showered and got dressed quickly, and since Dave hadn't taken the keys with him, she went out too to catch up with him at the store. She knocked on David's door, who was having breakfast alone since Greg had gone back to Minnesota a few days ago, and told him about Dave's strange behaviour.
They both hurried to the record store and saw Mustaine going through the records under the letter 'M'.
“He's probably checking out his old band.” David explained. “They must have released their debut album.” While David reached Dave, Maria went to check another band she knew had released its first album too.
“Hey Dave.” said Junior. Mustaine was holding Metallica's album in his hands, staring at the songs listed on the back cover.
“They have used my songs.” Dave growled. “I asked them not to, buy they've ignored me. Fucking assholes! I really want to listen how they've butchered them.”
He paid and left, followed by Maria and David.

“So, these Metallica guys really did him wrong, uh?” Maria asked Junior.
“Yep. There's a lot of anger and resentment going on. At least on Dave's side.”
“Anger and resentment. They can be good motivators, if they don't consume you from the inside first.”
“God, I hope not. I'm into this revenge plan too, so it better work out.” David joked. “And you? What have you bought?”
He raised his eyebrows at the album cover that Maria showed him. “Dark. Is this one of those punk bands you like?”
“No, not really. I mean, like punk alright, but I'm actually more into the following post-punk music, which is more experimental and arty.”
“Oh. Well, I'm no punk expert, so I don't really know.” Dave replied. “It's a rather scary looking cover for a band named Swans.”
“Yeah. I met Michael, the leader of the band, when I lived in New York. He said he had picked this name because swans are beautiful creatures with a bad attitude.”
“You lived in New York?”
“Can't you tell from the accent?” she laughed. “Yes, I moved here at the end of last year.”

Dave was walking in front of them, only half listening at what they were saying. He had been angry from the moment he had been informed by a friend that Metallica's debut album had been released, and now his mounting fury was reaching its peak. He wanted to unleash his rage and destroy something. Preferably his ex-bandmates. 'Kill 'em All' indeed.

Once at home, Dave put on the record and listened to it, spitting venomous comments around.
“Oh, listen to this little shit! And you call yourself a lead guitarist? You're a pathetic fool!”
“We're only at the first song, man. You want to calm down or you're going to have a stroke before the end of the album.” Maria said, but Dave wasn't paying any attention to anything but the music.
When the second song started, it took him a few seconds, but then he recognized it. “I can't believe it. Those cocksucking assholes! This is 'Mechanix'! My fucking song! They reworked it! Of course they had to wussify it, those turds, they could never play it well at its real speed.”
“Should we call an exorcist?” Maria whispered to David.
“It's good for him to vent his anger. I think.”

“Oh, and here's another one of my songs. With another mangled solo. You want to replace me? At least do it properly!”
The fifth song was introduced by a voice announcing: “Bass solo, take one”; this time, Dave had nothing to say and David listened to the song very attentively. So this is the famous Cliff Burton, fully showing his skills, he thought. Burton was the only one of his former bandmates Mustaine didn't diss; he resented him for letting the others kick him out, but he still showed him a good amount of respect. That was the man David was going to be compared to and, indeed, he was something else, a hell of a bass player. If Dave wanted Megadeth to be better than Metallica, then Junior had to work his ass off to keep up with the expectations.

After the sixth song, Dave took the album off the record player. “I can't listen to this fucking shit all at once, my ears are going to fucking bleed.” He roared. “Those dicks, what did they think they were doing? Using my songs, hiring a poor excuse for a guitarist to take my place... Do they think I'm just going to sit in my room crying? Oh, I bet they do, I bet they think I'm over, that they won't hear of me ever again. But they are wrong, oh, they're so fucking wrong. They won't even know what's going to hit them. Hard, and straight in their butt-ugly faces! You're not rid of me, you talentless, dime a dozen motherfuckers, I made your fucking band worth listening to.”

David looked at Dave with wide eyes and open mouth, while Maria was trying hard not to burst out in laughter. “I always had to talk to the audience, you know?” Dave said, addressing to them, “James was just too fucking shy to talk to all those people. He would get stage fright, the poor shrinking violet! And that Danish squirt, with his head stuck so far up his ass he can greet the food melting into his stomach but who can't keep a steady rhythm to save his mother's life...
Oh, and let's talk about Ebonylocks, the man who finds all the solos already written for him but cannot even play them decently. But he's going to take all the merit anyway, the bastard.
At least I fucked his girlfriend.” Dave grinned, “The poor girl must have been craving for a real man to fuck her right; I made her cum so hard, that probably was the best orgasm she ever had. You should have heard her screaming my name, she just couldn't get enough of my dick.
I bet Limpdick would rather suck cock. I bet that's why they called him in the first place, to have their dicks sucked, since he's the closest thing to a girl they can get. I was the chick magnet, without me, they wouldn't have found a crack whore to give 'em a handjob for money or pity.”

Dave stopped to take a breath, and seemed undecided whether to continue or not.
“Are you ok? Have you let it all out or there's something you'd like to say about their mothers too?” asked Maria.
Dave growled and picked up a six pack of beers from the fridge, then retired to his room and slammed the door shut.
“Well, that was... intense.” said David.
“Oh yeah, one of the longest, angriest rants I've ever witnessed to.” Maria replied, standing up. “Do you want a coke, since he's taken all of the beers?”
“Yes, please. I feel exhausted for Dave.”
“You're going to have to work so hard in his band, I hope you're motivated enough.”
David didn't reply, and they just sat on the couch drinking in silence for a while. “Do you mind if we listen to my album? You know, just not to lighten the atmosphere.”
“Go ahead, I'm actually curious.”

Maria placed the needle on the vinyl and the music started to play. She smiled; they are even better than the last time I saw them . Swans had released their first album; a few months before Sonic Youth, another band she knew, had done the same. The scene is still going strong in New York.
“What the hell, it's like this thing was recorded into a foundry.” Exclaimed David. “You really listen to this stuff? And you like it?”
Maria laughed. “What did you expect from an album titled 'Filth'?”


All he sees are death-masked stars
The lion's world is cold and sharp
All he wants is much too far
So he stalks the roads of token cars
He snarls at winds that mean no harm
And takes the thorns in perfect form
A broken ideal rides inside
the tortured lion's denim hide.

I want the lion's share
Gather up the broken chairs
Feed my mind unholy tests
Do me in, I need to rest.

He sleeps when nothing's in the air
Eats the scraps of some who care
Strains the right to overbear
Secrets hidden in the lair
Pauses long enough to dream
Nightmares push the glowing scream
His shadowed eyes show the toll
Something only lions know.

The Germs – "Lion's Share"
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