He wouldn’t lie
He loved the thought of her in church
The priest delivering a fire and brimstone sermon
As she thought of him
Replaying the words he had given her
His instructions
A blush stealing across her features
As her imagination ran wild
And her arousal began to build
Yes, he delighted in imagining her
Kneeling in church
Head bowed
Hands clasped together
Penitent
And knickerless…
:
©SirenSong1208 ~ 2015
Photograph taken from Google Images
Each bead
thumbed in reverence
not with prayer
but with each burning desire
that begins
with your name.
.
Sunday
kneeling
wafer upon my tongue
a prayer in my head
as I imagine your taste.
.
These days
he becomes the starting
and ending words
of my Sunday confessions.
.
No sooner have I confessed
and repented
than he has me on my knees.
Sinning.
Again.
Each defilement
glorious
violent
and dark.
.
Confess to me.
Satisfy your sins
along every silken inch of skin.
My curves
your path
of destruction
of salvation.
Amen.
:
*Another instalment in my Sunday confessions.
©SirenSong1208
Photograph taken from Pinterest
These Sunday confessions
roll off my tongue
like an Act of Contrition…
.
On my knees,
my tender
sensual
confessional
for your ears
only.
.
Sundays,
always the potential
for sin.
.
His name upon my skin
burning through my clothes
my Sunday secret.
.
Sunday service will be
kneeling
and thoughts
I choose not to repent.
.
He says prayers,
but only into the softness
of my skin.
.
Lost in your sweet sermon,
no prayers would be more earnest
as I await the burn
of your brimstone,
of your fire.
.
Sundays
dedicated to worship,
but only in the most sinful ways.
.
Until my next Sunday confession…
:
©SirenSong1208
Artwork by Ekaterina Belinskaya
Do you imagine
me
kneeling at your feet
You
standing tall before me
Your trousers
a long
blue
line
I itch to touch
and when I do
when I curl my fingers around
the tops of your thighs
I feel muscle
I feel your strength
I feel how much you want me
:
Do you imagine
looking down at me
naked
supplicant
Watching the tilt of my dark head
as I peer up at you
under sooty lashes
our eyes locking
Your wants
my desires
My shy smile
as I run the tip of my tongue
across my lips
anticipating
your taste
imagining
my utter delight
in you
:
©SirenSong1208
Photograph taken from Pinterest
He wouldn’t lie
He loved the thought of her in church
The priest delivering a fire and brimstone sermon
As she thought of him
Replaying the words he had given her
His instructions
A blush stealing across her features
As her imagination ran wild
And her arousal began to build
Yes, he delighted in imagining her
Kneeling in church
Head bowed
Hands clasped together
Penitent
And knickerless…
Photograph taken from Google Images
She has dreams.
Dreams of being naked
And kneeling
At his feet.
Head lowered.
Eyes down.
Awaiting his pleasure.
Awaiting his touch.
And when the touch comes
A caress of her cheek
A stroke of her hair
She positively purrs with pleasure.
Knowing that she belongs to him
That she is wanted
And adored.
Knowing that her need to serve him
Is accepted
And rejoiced in.
Knowing unequivocally
That her place
Is with him
At his feet.
Photo taken from Pinterest
Siren Whispers 