Siren Call

A warm, bright sun on a sublimely calm sea. A light breeze to keep things cool enough. Days like this are rare. Days like this call me to leave my usual surroundings and visit my favorite cove. It's small and hidden, and hard to get to. It's nestled between cliffs that make it almost invisible. Perfect. There are a few rocks on which to sunbathe, as well as a beach with the softest sand you can imagine. There's a tide pool too, full of small creatures.

It was on this perfect day in a perfect setting, when I sat on a rock and stuck my bare feet into the warm sand. I was so happy I decided to sing one of my happy songs. I have mournful songs too, but I save those for stormy days. Gray days when the wind, rain and waves lash at the shore and cause the sea birds to huddle together. But that's not now. Now is beautiful.

I sang for quite a while, with only the sea birds and the tide pool to keep me company. My music must have traveled far on this calm day, because a man came around the point in a tiny boat. The boat was bright yellow, low to the sea's surface, and very pointed. He looked like he was searching for the source of the music.

When he saw me, he looked surprised. I guess it's not often that a man comes round a point in a boat and finds a naked woman lying on a secluded beach. I stopped my singing, and he pulled up close to the shore.

"Was that you singing?" he asked. I nodded and felt my face redden. "You have an exquisitely beautiful voice."

I hung my head and smiled.

He steered the boat to the shore, and pulled it up on the sand. Then he looked up at the tall, treacherous cliffs surrounding the cove.

"Forgive me," he said, "I don't mean to intrude on your privacy, but how did you get down here? Those cliffs look really dangerous, and the rocks on either side of this cove are sharp and jagged."

The man was cute. He was blond, tanned, and he wore eye shades to shield his eyes from the bright sun.

I didn't want to speak. They say my singing voice is beautiful, but my speaking voice is so horrible it drives people away. I didn't want to drive this man away. I wanted him to stay. What better place to share the glory of this day than on this secluded beach?

I stood up, walked further up the sand, and beckoned him to follow. He must have thought I would show him how I got around the cliffs and rocks, but that's not what I had in mind. I sat down on the soft sand, and motioned for him to sit next to me. He gave me a questioning look, hesitated, then joined me.

"I'm Alex, by the way," he said, extending his hand toward me.

We shook hands. I didn't want to say my name, so I was silent. At last the silence got to him.

"What's your name?" he asked, with a note of impatience.

I put a finger to my mouth. Then I reached for his hand, and placed it on my breast.

"Hey!" he said, pulling his hand away. "No offense, but I don't even know your name. I get the whole thing about the two of us being in this secluded cove, but don't you think this is a bit fast?"

I felt my face drop, and it must have showed. I was surprised and saddened by his reaction.

"Okay," my new friend said with a sigh. "Won't you tell me how you got down here?"

I smiled and shook my head. Then I placed my finger on his lips.

"Oh, I get it. You want to play the whole anonymous thing full out, don't you?" he asked.

I grinned and nodded.

"Fine, I'll play along. So, here I am on a private beach with a beautiful, naked woman, and she won't even tell me her name. How's that for luck."

I was so pleased. I smiled and traced my fingertip along his lower lip.

"You're really..." he started to say, but I couldn't stand it. I had to taste him. I threw myself at him, landing on top of him. He was so surprised he had no time or instinct to resist. I kissed him hard and deep, my hands finding his and pressing them into the sand. He tasted of a delicious combination of sun, salt, skin, and a different, pleasant flavor I hadn't encountered before.

"Oh wow!" he said. "Today's my lucky day. Okay babe, if it's physical affection you're after, I've got a lot of it and to spare. So what if you won't talk to me?"

I was delighted to hear that. I kissed him again, this time feeling in his mouth for his tongue with my own. We drew each other in and played like happy otters playing in the surf.

My legs found their way between his, and our limbs quite happily entwined as we bit each other's lip tenderly. I could feel something growing inside his pants, getting harder and longer. I wanted to see it, taste it. Feel it inside me — anywhere inside me. That pole of his made me wet between my thighs.

I got up, then sat in his lap, my hips astride him. I undid the vest, then his shirt. Now I had access to his chest. It was covered in sparse hair. I leaned forward and took a light lick at his nipple, making him moan softly. That made me happy. I wanted to sing my joy to the sea, the land, the sky. But I had other things I wanted to do. His chest felt firm and secure, not soft and capped by two hillocks, like my own. I leaned forward still further and rubbed my chest against his. Heaven!

Back to his handsome face, covering it with soft, tantalizing kisses. I wanted this man. Wanted him inside me so bad, despite our huge differences. I was on a mission, with one goal, and one goal alone: to get him inside me, pounding away at my sex. The more I thought of it, the more the anticipation made me drip with desire.

I sat up again, and moved down so I was astride his knees. I took the clasp holding his pants together between my fingers. They trembled as I undid it. I knew this was wrong — very wrong — but I didn't care. My desire to have this man inside me was so strong nothing would stop me. I could feel my wetness flowing, I was sure it was making his clothes wet. I wondered if he could feel it.

I tugged at his pants until I got them off him. His short underpants came off with them. Now he was naked too, except for his shoes. They had straps that held them on his feet. Shoes always fascinate me, but not as much as a man's body.

His pole had sprung out with joy at its freedom when I pulled his pants down over it. I couldn't wait to get it inside me. I dove into a position where I held it in place, then lowered my dripping slit over it. It felt so good sliding in. It had been a long time, and I'd been aching for him to fill me.

I stretched myself out across his body, and moved up and down. That wonderful shaft slid in and out, as it became slick with my juices. He moaned and panted as I rode him, saying sweet words that made me happy.

My hips started to move with passion, undulating and rolling like waves. The motions were fluid, effortless. I could feel my juices flowing down his shaft as I rose up, then bubble around my sheath as I plunged back down again.

My lover was delirious. I heard and felt his desire, his need building. I rode him faster and harder.

He shouted something about never having been fucked like this in his life. It made me ride him even harder.

He grabbed at my long hair and pulled, but not hard. Then he cried out, and I felt his pole spurting its sweet juice into my depths. I almost cried out in response, but caught myself. Instead, I grabbed his hands and held them tight, as tremors and waves pounded through my body. No thunderstorm could ever match the intensity of my pleasure at this moment.

I slowed, my hands on my lover's chest. His shaft got soft, and slipped out of me. I was so sad! I wanted more. I wanted to go again, to feel him. My hips still moved, gently. His pole didn't respond.

"That was amazing, you're a damn passionate woman," he said, between heaving breaths.

It made me happy, so I kissed him, and put my hand between his legs. His pole was soft and small, and as wet as the sea. Could I bring it to life again? Make it hard and long again? I wanted to try.

I leaned over and smelled him. The sex aromas smelled delicious, clean and sexy. Not unlike the sea.

I opened my mouth and took him in.

"What? You really think you're going to get more from me after that? Good luck," he said.

Undeterred, I massaged his rod inside my mouth, sometimes tonguing, sometimes squeezing. I was delighted when, after a while of this and some extra effort with my hand, I felt him stiffen in my mouth.

I reached down with both hands at his crotch. One hand stroked his balls and the funny strip below, while the other grasped and tugged at his shaft.

"Damn," he said between heavy moans, "you sure know what you're doing. Even if you don't have a name."

He was fully hard now, and I gave him my all, sucking and stroking furiously. I wanted him to explode in my mouth. I craved it, needed it. When a man squirts into my mouth, it's like he's trusting me with his life-force as he offers it to me. It turns me on so much, and it's like getting an extra burst of energy.

Soon my lover thrashed his head from side to side, his hands on my bobbing head. He moaned as if to summon Poseidon, and his hips moved up and down. I tried to maintain control, but I was fighting a losing battle.

He arched his back and cried out loudly. I feel his rod lurch, and then my mouth flooded with warm spurts. My throat muscles worked hard to swallow his life-force. It tasted wonderful, and I didn't want to miss a single drop.

I squeezed the last gooey squirt from him with my hand, and licked it up. He'd given me a beautiful gift, and I accepted it gratefully. I treasured it as I swallowed this last sticky drop.

We lay together like that on the sand, his wilting pole in my mouth, our hands caressing each other. My lover was exhausted, having given so much of himself. I felt happy, refreshed. He nodded off and fell asleep, and I let him slip from my mouth. I rested my head on his hip as he slept, enjoying what we'd both given and received.

My lover slept peacefully on the sand. But the loving we'd shared had energized me. I was ready for a brisk swim to celebrate.

I looked back at my sleeping lover, and walked down the beach toward the water. The wind had picked up, making small crests, but the sea was still relatively calm. I felt so happy and satisfied. I wanted to sing again, but I didn't want to wake my lover from his slumber.

With a last glance back, I stuck out one long leg and dipped my foot in the water. It felt reassuring, like home. The ocean water worked its magic. Starting from my hips, greenish-gray scales grew down my legs, fusing them together until they ended in a large fishtail.

I took a deep breath, and leapt joyfully into the water. The cove would be there for another day. As for my human lover, he would wake and wonder how I had disappeared. Maybe he would wonder if he'd dreamed the whole thing.

For now, I was home.