Siren Whispers

Siren Song


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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


8 Comments

Your essence

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She waits,

breathlessly,

for the firm drag of his tongue.

When it comes,

it’s electric.

A bolt

running from him to her.

He says,

“You taste like the ocean.

Like the warm sea

washing over me.

I want to get lost in you,

in your taste

in your essence.”

:

©SirenSong1208 ~ 2016

Artwork by Anna Dart via DeviantArt; “Wine Tasting”

 

 


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Fast and furious

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he parts her thighs

and takes her breath

hands gripping the slender length of her throat

the pulse flickering

wildly

delicately

beneath his fingertips

the heat of his skin upon hers

burning

a searing mark

he urges the carnal

the wildness within her

to stride forth

to run with his

fast and furious

a mindless need fulfilled

she surrenders to him

as he surrenders

to her

:

©SirenSong1208 ~ 2017

Photograph taken from Tumblr


4 Comments

Union

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Sometimes the thoughts come.  In a rush

I see it clearly. 

The bed, a tangle of sheets and limbs.  Skin striped by the shafts of light finding their way through the slatted shades.

I am on my back and you are before me.  Caressing me.  Pinching me.  Licking me.  Making every sense sing with your attentions.

I am on fire, with you.

I look up at you and see the same fevered arousal in your eyes that I know has softened my own.  I reach out and touch your chest, lazily stroking downward.

Touching you.  Feeling you and how hard you are.  How much you want me.

Your fingers have already discovered just how much I want you.

You flip me over, have me kneeling on the bed.  My breasts are flat against the sheet, my arse is in the air.  My hands are stretched out in front of me.  Clutching.  Beseeching.  My thighs delightfully wide.  For your pleasure

Your thrust takes my breath away.  Your skin against mine as you take your time. Your hands gripping my hips.  Your strokes, blissfully slow. Full.  Measured.

I feel one hand slide upward to palm my breast.  To squeeze my nipple.  The other sliding downward to find my sex.  Probing.  Circling.  Your movements synchronised with your thrusts.

You pull me up, my back against your chest.

My arousal is a delicious torture.  I can feel it building.  Stroke by stroke.

I can’t help but push backward, to take more of you, to feel you closer.

Your thrusts become faster now.  Gaining momentum

I’m lost in the sensations.  Your hands on me.  You inside me, filling me. 

Nothing else matters. 

Just us. And this thrilling, euphoric union. 

:

©SirenSong1208 ~ 2015

Photo taken from Tumblr


2 Comments

Languid

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Long languid summer days

pale skin a distant memory.

Now there are bare shoulders

and tawny silken thighs

heated by his caress.

His hands

glide along their length

gentle

yet firm and possessive

igniting a shiver within.

Burning her skin

with the mark

of his desire.

He indicates his wish

with the slightest touch

wider

she obeys on instinct

because it’s what she craves.

The ache within

growing.

His hands upon her

giving her what she needs

what he wants.

Her eyes close

as she savors the feelings

sweeping over her

allowing them to take flight

and soar.

:

©SirenSong1208 ~ 2016

Photograph taken from Tumblr


9 Comments

Cette petite mort

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His fingers

caressing

stroking

skin like silk.

His lips

placing a kiss

here

there

and everywhere.

His breath

upon her

causing her to shudder

as she arches toward his touch.

His tongue

dancing upon

pale

and pink

flesh

alike

unremitting in its quest

for her pleasure.

Hungry for her.

For how she feels

under his hands.

For the taste of her

upon his tongue.

To know

to feel

his enjoyment

of this

of what he can give her

of what he wants to give her

again and again…

cette petite mort…

pushes her over the edge

has her passion raging

like a wildfire

and makes her ravenous

for him

in turn.

:

©SirenSong1208 ~ 2016

Photograph taken from Pinterest


2 Comments

Feel me closer



If I simply say

that I am hungry for you…

will that tell you everything?

Will it reveal how

every day

every night

my skin burns

my body yearns

for your touch

from your fingers

your lips

your tongue

for the press of you

between my thighs

for everything I know

and yet don’t know.

.

Feel me closer

even if only in your mind

and imagine the night closing in around me

a sensuous shroud upon my nakedness.

Envision how my skin feels your kiss in the night air

how I arch my back to receive your touch

and open my thighs

to questing fingers

that are your proxy

caressing curves

and stroking this ache

again and again.

Can you hear my breath…

short and sharp with my arousal

my mind saturated with my images of you

as I become flushed with excitement 

on the cusp of utter bliss.

The haven of my bed

witness to the desire

and longing

I have for you

the walls echoing

your name.

:

©SirenSong1208 ~ 2016

Photograph taken from Pinterest