Siren Whispers

Siren Song


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Crimson kisses

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Red lipstick and lingerie.

He is seated.

Waiting.

Watching her.

Her eyes are upon him.

Watching him.

He inclines his head,

she knows to start.

She crawls across the room 

on her hands and knees

head up

eyes locked with his.

White lace cups her breasts

the material shifting, moving, revealing

as she crawls closer to him

her arse in the air

pale skin exposed by her minuscule thong.

She kneels in front of him

hands upon her thighs

palms up.

She is waiting.

He looks at her appreciatively.

Dark hair curling loosely around her shoulders.

White lace demi cup bra,

the swell of her breasts creating a delicious distraction.

Blue grey eyes smouldering with desire

and the crimson curve of her sensual lips.

He nods his assent and she begins.

She leans toward him, unbuttoning his dress shirt.

Button after button carefully undone.

When she is finished she spreads his shirt wide

exposing his chest to her gaze.

Both hands touch him, caress him.

She leans over and kisses the hollow of his neck,

her start.

She places a trail of kisses down his chest.

Licking and kissing

kissing and licking

working her way down to his belly

and beyond.

Marking him 

with her crimson kisses.

:

*Written a year ago but I thought I would share for those who were not following then. I hope my regular readers don’t mind the repost.

©SirenSong1208

Photograph taken from Pinterest


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Intoxicated

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As I imagine

every wet kiss

and each shared breath

I feel you pull me deeper

into you.

You become the oxygen

filling my lungs

the blood

coursing through my veins

the heat

I feel upon my skin. 

You bewitch my senses

one by one

with your scent

your touch

your taste

until I’m thoroughly intoxicated

with you

my favourite addiction.

:

©SirenSong1208

Photographer: The Sensual Eye

Model: Sarifka Morgan


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Man of the sea

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He is my man of the sea.

My Poseidon.

Reigning over me

trident in hand

steely eyed gaze

and proud stance.

He keeps me his captive

without words.

My soul responding to the fury

within him

a storm brewing

of tidal proportions.

He is confident and sure

aware of his dominion

of his seductive lure.

His trident making the earth shake with its power.

But it takes only a word from him

to set me to trembling

every part of me aching

to lose myself in this fathoms deep yearning.

His goddess of the sea.

The object of his deepest desires.

The woman he’s waited a lifetime for

to finally unleash the power beneath the waves

knowing I will match him

swell for swell.

:

*Not new, simply a repost, but one of my favourites.

©SirenSong1208

Photograph of Poseidon and Amphitrite found on Pinterest


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Restless

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He has a restless soul.

One that has wandered

countless days and nights.

Searching

always searching

for that which will bind his desires

to one

while giving him the freedom to be himself

to be all that he wants

all that he needs.

.

He has a restless soul.

One that speaks loudly to her own

gypsy soul.

:

©SirenSong1208

Photograph taken from White Noten


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Feverish

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The room is silent, candles flickering and casting shadows upon the walls.

The collar around her neck leashes her senses with it’s weight

the scent of the leather stirring her.

Her head is erect but her eyes are downcast.

She focuses on the floor underneath her hands and knees in an attempt to steady her breathing,

to calm the chaos within.

The flutter of excitement and arousal proves difficult to tame.

She can feel it when he enters the room.

The subtle change.

The shift in the air.

Her body reacts in the only way it ever has

with him.

A sharp quiver of desire that makes her skin tingle, that causes her nipples to harden,

eager and ready for his touch,

arousal damp upon her thighs.

She feels his eyes upon her

appraising her

from the top of her head, to her painted toes and all of the curves in between.

The first touch is electric and she moans, in spite of herself.

His crop traces her spine and the curve of her arse,

lingering between her legs to probe her sensitive flesh,

to tease her

building the ache until she is consumed

with a feverish need.

Desperate to know

all he wants to teach

and all she wants to learn.

 

:

©SirenSong1208

Photograph taken from Pinterest


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Nurture

Dreams sustain a hope within.

Tempered

with the cold wind of reality.

We nurture these fragile flames

within the safety

of our cupped hands.

Recognising the strength of our fire

born of intuition

and a soul’s whispers

our gaze upon each other

that first time

thrilling

as the spark burst forth

into a blaze.

:

©SirenSong1208

Photograph taken from La Mie Emozioni

 


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Teasing

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Teasing you with my words

as you do me.

Words that are sweet, sensuous, silky, sinful.

Sometimes dark, decadent, deviant, delicious.

Poetic verse I use in place of 

my fingers, my mouth, my body.

Words instead

of touches

of kisses

of the heaven of skin on skin.

To make you feel me.

To incite your desire

as you do mine.

Words that curl around you

like a wisp of smoke

like a vine.

Insinuating themselves

deep inside 

where they resonate.

A perfect fit.

Revealing what I’ve always known.

I was made 

just for you.

:

*This is not new but the power of words is always relevant.

©SirenSong1208

Photograph taken by Carlos Williams