Siren Whispers

Siren Song


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It is the tease

the slide of lace.

A moment of urgency

as fingers

as tongue

find the waiting ache

her thighs

wet and trembling with arousal

as his mouth moves

from knee

to thigh

to exactly where she needs him.

Bare to his gaze

his tongue hungry

he takes all she has to give

becoming the feast

that never ends.

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Copyright ©SirenSong1208

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Photograph taken from Tumblr, unsourced


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Linger

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it is symbiotic

this need

giving and taking

letting desires unfurl naturally

without agenda or design

words left to linger in thoughts

accelerant to dreams

where lust is rough

and thorough

as he bends me over his desk

my dress bunched up around my waist

his hand upon the small of my back

I feel the press of the wood against my belly

and the press of him against my thighs

my body is on fire

every nerve ending alive and firing

there is tenderness

but in moments such as these

when need is raw and powerful

he shows me just how he craves me

what he can give me

and with it

how my body aches

for all that he is

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Copyright © SirenSong1208

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Photograph taken from Tumblr, unsourced


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Cover me with your sin

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Cover me with your sin

Fingers threaded through with mine

Held aloft

Pressed upon soft white sheets

Stark against flesh flushed pink

With arousal

With exertion

.

Cover me with your sin

As you crowd me with your intentions

To spoil

To sate

To initiate

Claiming every dark instinct as your own

As you pin me to the page

Writing your darkest prose

Seeing my response

Under your fingertips

A whorl of darkly inked curves and lines

Entwining with your own

:

©SirenSong1208

Photograph taken from Tumblr


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Sin

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Can I be truly repentant

As I atone for my transgressions

If I adored each step

Into darkness

And would again embrace

With delight

Would allow myself

To savor

Once more

The sin

That is you

…Ravenous for the sin

For the darkness

For you

My hunger outstrips any need

For penance

My only need

Confession

Under your hands

Under you

My body spilling its secrets

In every sigh, gasp and moan

Expiation of sin

Was never more

Delicious

:

©SirenSong1208

Photograph taken from WhiteNoten


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Purr

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She tries to move but cannot.

Her arms are above her head, bound.

She can feel the warmth of her skin on either side of her face.

She can smell the faint aroma of her perfume.

Along with this fragrance is the scent of her arousal

becoming stronger

as she waits.

The blindfold lets in no light.

She does not know where he is

or what he will do first.

But she knows,

oh yes she knows,

that he will do what he wants

when he wants.

 She tries again.

Giving a small tug on her wrists.

Checking the restraints.

Cuffed and roped to the bed frame

the slip slide of rope against metal

Unforgiving.

Unrelenting.

She sighs and stops.

She stretches her body

feeling the sheets under her

her skin sensitive to any touch.

She is alert for any sign of him

her body vibrating with anticipation.

Knowing she is his instrument for the day

and like any musician

he will play her over and over again

perfecting

chords

melodies.

He will make her sing

in her purest voice.

Her song.

For him.

Only him.

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He’s still and silent.

Watching her.

Watching her face

as emotions, reactions flit across her features.

Wondering at her thoughts.

He’s restrained only her arms

wanting her legs free.

He watches as she tugs at the cuffs

smiling slightly as he knows they are secure

and her efforts are in vain.

Thinking of his plans for the day.

He observes her body.

Long, soft, supple naked skin

breathtaking curves

her nipples eager and erect

begging to be

teased

tortured

tasted.

Her sex

deliciously wet.

Of that he is sure.

He hears her sigh

and gazes at her as she stretches

her chest rising off of the bed

followed by the undulation of belly and hips

her legs lengthening

her toes pointed.

He likes to watch her stretch.

She’s like a cat

and he’s getting ready to make her purr.

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*This is not a new post but it is a favorite longer piece of mine first posted a couple of years ago. I hope the reader will not mind indulging me.

©SirenSong1208 ~ 2015

Photograph taken from Tumblr


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Rosary beads

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Touch my curves

as though they were rosary beads.

Thumbing each one

mindfully.

Every stroke of your fingers

a murmured prayer

an Act of Contrition.

I will be the glorious mystery 

unfolding beneath

your hands

your mouth.

Make me your religion.

An altar for you

to worship at.

And not just on Sundays…

:

©SirenSong1208 ~ 2017

Photograph taken from Tumblr/unsourced


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Worshipful intent

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Fingertips

gently glide along his thighs.

Hands upon shoulders

touching her

as she touches him.

Her soft breath upon him

his hands

tangled like need through her hair.

She breathes him in

senses alive

with sacred desire

and worshipful intent.

:

©SirenSong1208 ~ 2016

Photograph taken from Pinterest