August MacGregor

Celebrating Sensuality. Intended for mature audiences, 18 and over


Summer Fruits

peach, by Len Radin (Flickr, Creative Commons)

Len Radin (Flickr, Creative Commons)

peaches, by sunnyd1225 (Flickr, Creative Commons)

sunnyd1225 (Flickr, Creative Commons)

watermelon, by Harsha K R (Flickr, Creative Commons)

Harsha K R (Flickr, Creative Commons)

blackberry, by arbyreed (Flickr, Creative Commons)

arbyreed (Flickr, Creative Commons)

raspberries, by K. Kendall (Flickr, Creative Commons)

K. Kendall (Flickr, Creative Commons)

strawberry, by Riza Nugraha (Flickr, Creative Commons)

Riza Nugraha (Flickr, Creative Commons)

strawberry, by .craig (Flickr, Creative Commons)

.craig (Flickr, Creative Commons)

strawberry, by CaptPiper (Flickr, Creative Commons)

CaptPiper (Flickr, Creative Commons)


The Freshest Fruits

[This is erotic fiction meant for mature readers only.]

“I have a confession to make.”

Greg’s words caused Ellen to pause, to stop chewing on the peach, and a piece of it lay on her tongue, waiting, like a person on a bed enraptured by her lover’s striptease and waiting to see what piece was to be removed next. Ellen couldn’t find any clue on Greg’s face as to what was to come next. Damn, he was a good poker player. So much better at keeping a passive face than she was.

“Oh?” she asked. “Do tell.”

Greg told: “In my weekly trips to the farmer’s market, I spend a lot of time shopping for the right fruit.”

She studied his face while he talked, wondering where this confession was going. As she studied him, she finished chewing the piece of peach and swallowed it.

“I have to buy just the right fruit,” he said. “It has to be ripe. Not just a little ripe, but really ripe. Ready to eat right away.”

Still, she wasn’t sure where Greg was going with this. Of course, some of the fruit he brought home was incredibly ripe. Not all of it, but true to his words, some of it had to be eaten right away. Otherwise, it would’ve turned rotten. And rotten fruit was no fun at all. It was an insult to nature for the power and beauty that she took to create that fruit.

“I buy the super-ripe fruit for a good reason,” he said. A pause, knowing that she would fill it.

And fill it, Ellen did. “Oh? What reason is that?”

Greg leaned forward a little, obviously pleased to give the delivery that he had set up. “Because I love watching you eat them. I love knowing the flavor explodes in your mouth. I love it when you give that little startled look with the flavor explodes. Your eyes widen a little. You touch your lips with three fingertips as if to keep it all in there. And I love it when you lick your lips afterward, to collect the juice.”

Ellen tried as hard she could to keep a straight face. Her lips wanted to stretch into a huge smile at his naughtiness, but she didn’t want to give him that gift. Yet. She was pleased that her face felt like a good poker face.

“But sometimes,” she said, “some of the juice does escape. When the fruit’s so super, super ripe, some of the juice comes right out of my mouth. I can’t help it.”

Greg paused again, and she supposed it was to catch his breath.

She filled this second pause. “And when the juice comes out, it slides down my chin. I have to wipe it up with my finger. Do you know what I do with my finger?”

Yet another pause, but Ellen waited this time and let her husband fill it.

Greg said, “I, uh, have a guess.”

“Is your guess that I suck on it? I pucker my lips against my finger and suck on it? Suck on it hard?”

“Yeah, uh, something like that.”

She nodded at his groin. “Lose the shorts and sit on the table. I’m hungry for cock. For your cock.”

His hands couldn’t move fast enough, unbuttoning and unzipping and shoving his shorts down. He nearly tripped himself as he stepped out of them. When he sat on the kitchen table, she moved a chair in front of him and sat down.

Finally, she allowed her lips to spread in a smile. He was hard and excited. His face matched his erection, nearly quivering in anticipation. Calmly, she took her half-eaten peach and rubbed it on his shaft. She licked it slowly, adoring the taste and feeling of it. Adoring the effect she was having on him. She did it again, sliding the ripe fruit on him, watching his cock glisten with the peach’s juice, and grinning at the beauty of it. Thrills danced in her at the sight and mood and sensations of this moment. She decided to make this a long session of loving his cock, and she looked forward to every part of it, telling herself to remember to let some of his juice escape between her lips after his flavor exploded in her mouth.



Fifty Shades … Masters of Sex

Last week, the trailer for the Fifty Shades of Grey movie came out, surely causing a torrent of reactions, from trembling excitement to eye rolls. It reminded me of big hype when The Fault in Our Stars movie opened, and I wondered how many people loved both of these books (or trilogy in the case of Fifty Shades) and were excited about these movies.

Admittedly, I’ve read none of the Fifty Shades books. But, since I write erotica, I was very curious about what made these erotic books so popular, seeing that they’re among a pretty packed field. What made these books rise up from the rest in popularity? Maybe it was due to the start of the story being Twilight fan fiction, and the books catapulted from there, adding ropes and riding crops for some spice in the mix?

I haven’t read the books, in part because several people have told me they’re badly written. And I respect the opinion of the people telling me this. So I’ve been hesitant. Still, though, I’m pretty excited about these erotic books hitting the mainstream and being made into a movie. A movie which will have fans lining up way, way around the block.

I have to admit, the trailer is sexy (well, those last few seconds)…

The trailer came out soon after the new season of Masters of Sex started on Showtime. I really enjoyed the first season of this show, and this second season has not disappointed in the least. It has complicated characters and good story lines. Not just about the hyper-focused goal of Dr. Masters to continue his sex study, but about a range of characters around him.

I’m impressed on how the show portrays Dr. Masters as being non-judgmental about people who are considered “deviant” in the culture of the 1950s. In the second episode of this new season, a girl’s mother wanted to force her into getting a hysterectomy, due to her promiscuity. Dr. Masters refused to perform this life-altering surgery, and instead gave her an IUD to prevent unwanted pregnancy. And in the first episode, Dr. Masters encouraged his friend Provost Scully not to get electro-shock therapy as an attempt to “cure” him of homosexuality.

Maybe some of this could be chalked up to Dr. Masters having scientific curiosity of people who don’t follow what mainstream culture considers as “normal” sexual behavior. His character seems to truly care for these “outsiders,” and doesn’t want them to be punished for being that way. Hell, he’s brimming with scientific curiosity about everything sexual, from what’s considered “normal” to “abnormal.”

Which brings me back to Fifty Shades of Grey. Is it popular because it introduces us to something we may consider outside of our comfort zone? Like Christian Grey opening the door to his secret room and introducing Anastasia to what may be outside of her comfort zone? Now, with Kindles, Nooks, iPads, etc., we can read about what happens next without anyone else in the coffee shop or airport or where-ever knowing what we’re reading (it’s our own little secrets).

Well, now that the cat’s out of the bag for Fifty Shades, the many fans of these books won’t need to hide as they wait in line at the theater this February. Soon, Mr. Grey will see you…


Darkest Red

The darkest red cherry’s flesh is juicy and sweet.

Yielding, giving into my teeth sinking into it.

Finding the stone in the center, harder than the sweet flesh, your core, your soul that I hold and treasure and do my best to protect.

Your smooth curves are like the cherry’s skin. How your skin is warmed by your inner fire, glowing more by the flames in the fireplace, see how the flames are jealous of my fingers that get to touch your beauty.

You, my darkest red beauty, with flesh juicy and sweet and full of many pleasures, with crimson lips glinting in the firelight, your eyes burning with an intensity that others could only dream of. I love all of these lusciously, but it is your core that I love the most, my roots reaching as deeply as they can into your soil.


Sexy in Rio

While I was searching Flickr for Creative Commons pics of Rio de Janeiro, I ran across many sexy ones, and I figured I’d add them in a second post. My first post of this city showed some of the beautiful parts, and now for some of the sexy parts:

Rio de Janeiro, by Mike Vondran (Flickr, Creative Commons)

Ipanema Beach, Mike Vondran (Flickr, Creative Commons)

Rio de Janeiro, by inthesitymad (Flickr, Creative Commons)

inthesitymad (Flickr, Creative Commons)

Rio de Janeiro, by Charlie Phillips (Flickr, Creative Commons)

Phallic cloud at Copacabana beach, Charlie Phillips (Flickr, Creative Commons)

Rio de Janeiro, by Sheila Tostes (Flickr, Creative Commons)

Sheila Tostes (Flickr, Creative Commons)

Rio de Janeiro, Carnaval 2014, Nicolas de Camaret (Flickr, Creative Commons)

Carnaval 2014, Nicolas de Camaret (Flickr, Creative Commons)

Rio de Janeiro, Carnaval 2014, Nicolas de Camaret (Flickr, Creative Commons)

Carnaval 2014, Nicolas de Camaret (Flickr, Creative Commons)

Rio de Janeiro, Carnaval 2014, Nicolas de Camaret (Flickr, Creative Commons)

Carnaval 2014, Nicolas de Camaret (Flickr, Creative Commons)


Rio de Janeiro

Congratulations to Germany and Argentina in making it to this year’s World Cup final! Actually, congratulations to all the athletes who played in the games. You’ve given us viewers many amazing matches of The Beautiful Game.

Also, I’ve had fun finding Flickr photos of the cities in Brazil where the World Cup games have been played. I’ve discovered parts of Brazil that I never knew about (my knowledge of Brazil was very small to begin with). I had to save Rio for the last day of the World Cup. What a beautiful city!

Rio de Janeiro, by Jose Fernandes Jr (Flickr, Creative Commons)

Jose Fernandes Jr (Flickr, Creative Commons)

Rio de Janeiro, by Christian Haugen (Flickr, Creative Commons)

Christian Haugen (Flickr, Creative Commons)

Rio de Janeiro, by Clément Jacquard (Flickr, Creative Commons)

Clément Jacquard (Flickr, Creative Commons)

Rio de Janeiro, by Christian Haugen (Flickr, Creative Commons)

Christian Haugen (Flickr, Creative Commons)

Rio de Janeiro, by David Kirsch (Flickr, Creative Commons)

David Kirsch (Flickr, Creative Commons)

Copacabana, by Lima Pix (Flickr, Creative Commons)

Lima Pix (Flickr, Creative Commons)

Copacabana, by Jorge in Brazil (Flickr, Creative Commons)

Jorge in Brazil (Flickr, Creative Commons)

Rio de Janeiro, by Ricardo Luengo (Flickr, Creative Commons)

Parte colonial de Rio de Janeiro, Ricardo Luengo (Flickr, Creative Commons)

Rio de Janeiro, by BORIS G (Flickr, Creative Commons)

Biblioteca Real Gabinete Portugues de Leitura Rio de Janeiro, BORIS G (Flickr, Creative Commons)


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