“I want to try something,” Angela whispers, her tone hot and breathy, and Francis stares at her like she has descended into madness.

Angela remembers, then, that he cannot hear her. Slight embarrassment creeps into the siren’s mind at her humble mistake. She fumbles around for the journal, though, shortly pauses before having written anything at all.

Instead, she points to Francis’s groin, then pulls out her tongue to show him her intents.

It works.

Francis blushes red. He gulps—eventually, however, after having covered up his nether regions in an embarrassed gesture, Francis shuts his eyes. He nods.

He slips into the tub, stands on his knees, atop the siren, who yanks his boxers down and sends them flying into the living room.

Francis makes a slight, horrified sound at the gesture. He also shivers—likely, from the morning breeze that has started to make itself known around the nearby window, Angela thinks.

The siren ushers Francis closer, until his cunt is pushed up against her lips. She smiles against him.

Slow and easy, Angela dips her tongue inside Francis’s entrance. She chuckles, once he begins to tremble, and let out sounds of the purest kind. It is lovely, she notes, how warm humans are. How tender, and sweet, and lovely they taste, here.

Francis holds onto the tub’s edges. His toes curl beneath the water. If there’s something Angela’s proud of, it is her ability to hold her breath for endless amounts of time—and she can tell, that her lover is enjoying this skill of hers, too. Very much so.

Angela cups her lover’s behind with her free hand. She comes to dip a finger that has been wet by Francis’s juices, closer to his untouched pink flesh, that she has not shown attention to yet.

And Francis gasps out of surprise, making Angela wonder, if she should not have done this. However, when the young man grinds down against her hand, as if to encourage the Siren to slip her finger deeper inside him, she knows, that this is okay.

Francis shuts his eyes. A grin takes his lips as he indulges in the pleasure Angela is intent on giving him. Although he cannot hear Angela humming against him in delight, he certainly feels the vibrations pulse across his cunt, for he thrusts up against the siren’s face yet again, lets out a cry of pleasure, that reverberates throughout the small, tiled bathroom walls.

When it is over, and Francis is laying beside her in the water, Angela wraps her arms around his shoulders and kisses his neck. Rain begins to fall outside.

The small droplets of dew cast strings of shadows across the dimly lit room. Francis shivers, when he kisses Angela again. Angela wishes she had the notebook on her person at the moment, but, she does not want to move.

She leaves a curt tap against her newfound lover’s shoulder. The water sloshes, as it likes to do.

When Francis gazes back at her once more, Angela forces her teeth to chatter; she points at Francis, then at the way out of the tub. She hopes Francis will understand the message: Please, get dressed. Warm yourself, beloved.

It seems, that Francis does understand. For he leaves, then returns, with a brand new notebook and some clothes on his back.