Featured image ‘A Siren’ by Edward Armitage 1888.
Song to the Siren by Larry Becket and Tim Buckley. Lyric images created with ImageQuote app.
The waves lap at the hull of the boat. There are no other seaworthy vessels to be seen for miles. I am adrift, and I am lost. Though not as it might seem to some in a navigational sense, I am lost of heart, adrift in a sea of longing. I remember with a dull ache in my chest and I must confess a throbbing in my cock, how your eyes sparkled as I drew your lips to mine, your fingers firm and certain guiding my hard length into as yet unexplored waters.
My heart sang, or perhaps you sang to me, I cannot recall the details, the memories of our union made hazy by the way you enveloped me, your entire being taking over mine, your existence in my world and your proximity to my body rendering everything but my knowledge of you utterly unimportant.
Since the day you left, I have been waiting. Waiting to hold you again, longing to breathe in the scent of you as you fill my senses with your salty aroma a chill whistling through me as my chest rises and your essence nestles in the crevices of my lungs.
There is no warmth as the tendrils of your desire enfold me there is only a blinding truth that I have been touched by a Goddess and in your icy demeanour I am reborn, made new, stripped of earthly demands upon my person. You made the sea my home as you pulled me into your depths and now my boat rocking with the ebb and flow of the tide is the closest I can get to you.
The nearby rocks taunt me as I gaze upon them. I envy them knowing how you lingered upon them, as the sun shone down upon you, causing you to glisten in ways a land dweller like me could only have begun to image. It was that shine that caught my eye, your song that captured my heart and your majestic body that enraptured my cock.
All I have now is dreams, dreams in which you come back to me and once more we come together in a swirling whirlpool of desire as your body grips me ways that seem impossible, otherworldly and beyond all comprehension. Reason be damned though because I fall deeper and deeper under your spell as you writhe against me, wails of pleasure emanate from you and I hear them with more than just my auditory sense, I hear you in my veins, I hear you in the rhythm of my own breathing and in all the empty spaces within me.
You move through me as I embed myself with you, hips thrusting, muscles tensing, cock pulsing as I spill into you, filling you with a seed that cannot be sown, for a dream is still a dream and I have long since stopped hoping that you are dreaming of me too.
I suspect like an oyster I have turned an invader into a pearl. What once would have been a source of danger is now sought after, if I should find you again I would gladly fall beneath the crest of your waves, drowning in all that you are, my beautiful siren, my maiden of the sea.
As the water laps at my skin, my feet dangling into the ocean, I am bereft without you my love, then I hear you sing to me once more …
‘Swim to me, swim to me, across these troubles tides, here I am, here I am, waiting for you, waiting to enfold you.’
I swam to you …
…. I lay with you …
… my siren bride.
Inspired by this weeks Wicked Wednesday prompt to use a song title to inspire your post. I love ‘Song to the Siren’ and the version I have on my regular playlist is by This Mortal Coil, which is a version that gets me right in the feels. There is something about the Tim Buckley original though that is incredibly haunting and the slight variation in some of the lyrics are ones I think should have remained in future covers, which is why I have gone with the original version for my inspiration.