August MacGregor

Celebrating Sensuality. Intended for mature audiences, 18 and over



[This is erotic fiction meant for mature readers over 18 years old only. Inspired by many things, including this post on the love of sundresses. Damn, I love summer. It’s why I picked August as my alter ego’s first name.]

They’re on the bed. Kissing, with him on top of her. He rolls off of her, to the side. She wonders what he’s going to do next.

He slides down, to past her feet. Off the bed. He lifts up her leg by her ankle and unbuckles the thin strap of her sandal. He pulls off the sandal by its wedge heel. His fingers touch the spot on the underside of her knee. They tickle a little, but she doesn’t giggle. She squirms instead. He likes this. His fingers slide down the curve of her calf. Down to her ankle. To her heel. He lowers her leg, slowly settling it back onto the bed. He lifts her other leg. Removes the sandal and caresses from the underside of her knee down to her heel. An equal treatment for both legs.

He pushes up her soft summer dress. Pushes up the bottom of her dress that’s at the middle of her thighs. Up, he pushes the bottom of her sundress, past her panties. Past her bellybutton. He lets go of her sundress. The tip of his finger touches her bellybutton. Moves in a small circle. His hands grip her pale blue panties. Gripping the waistband at each hip. She hoists her groin up a little. He pulls, sliding the panties downward. Toward him. He stares at her vagina as he continues pulling her panties, and she enjoys his rapt attention. He maneuvers her panties over her feet. Drops the panties to the carpet.

She looks up at him, sees him looking down at her, his face saying everything. Everything about how much he loves doing this. About how he has thought about this moment. Planned this moment. Looked forward to doing this. Wanting her to feel his love and lust and appreciation of her.

Her heartbeat thumps in her chest. Her chest rises and falls. She loves his eyes moving from her eyes to her chest, which is still covered by the sundress, and how he enjoys the sight of her chest even when it’s covered.

His eyes move downward, past the line of her sundress that marks where her body is covered and where it is naked. Her bellybutton. Her belly that, like her chest, softly rises and falls. His gaze descends to her pussy. To her creamy thighs. Her knees. Her feet.

His hand grips one of her heels and lifts her leg. He kisses her big toe. A small peck on the curve of her toe just beyond her bright red toenail. Then a peck on each of her other toes.

He has sucked her toes before, and that had sent her into wild giggling fits. But he doesn’t do that now.

Now, it’s a small kiss for each toe. He gently lowers that leg and lifts the other one, doing the same to her other toes. The slow kiss for each toe. When he reaches her baby toe, he smiles, like there’s a little joke here, about the cuteness of how small the toe is. As he lowers this leg, he swivels it some. Now, her legs are spread more apart.

She gasps a little. More of her pussy is on display for him. His eyes eat it up. She loves how he looks at her like this. A visual feast.

Before this, she’s caught him looking at her at a party, and that had sent shivers up her black dress-covered spine. Earlier today, she glowed when he stole looks of her in the sundress as they walked among the small town’s charming shops, the town dwarfed by the immense lake next to it.

She wants very badly to take his breath away.

His eyes lower again, moving from her pussy to her feet. He kisses the side of her foot. Then the same to her other foot. To her ankle, the hump of bone there. Her shin. Back and forth, he kisses the same part on each side of her legs. An equal treatment for both legs. Up and up, he moves. She can feel his breath on her skin before his lips kiss each tender part.

When he reaches above her knees, he has to spread her legs further apart to make more room for him. The underside of her leg slides on the softness of the bed sheet. Making a whish sound. Like a wish. A wish for more. A wish for this to never stop.

His lips on her thighs. Her thighs that she had inspected this morning, after she pulled the sundress over her head and smoothed its fabric down her body, and checked her thighs in the mirror and was proud of all those sweaty hours she had spent in the gym.

But the gym is far from her mind right now as his lips travel in small distances up and up her thighs. She squirms again. His lips make delicious, slightly ticklish, little delights on her flesh. She finds herself gasping with each of his kisses.

Finally, he reaches the center. Again, she feels his breath before his kiss. Then his first lick.

When he says “Fuck, you’re so wet,” she blinks at the ceiling and says in her mind, “Of course, what the fuck did you expect? If I had a dick, I’d have a boner so fucking tall, it would hit the ceiling.” But she doesn’t say this out loud. She says nothing out loud, knowing that he spoke out of appreciation and not because he didn’t expect her to be wet.

After her silence, he says, “I love it when you’re wet, baby.” This smooths out the small blip.

His licking smooths out everything even more. Slow, long licks. From the bottom of her vagina all the way to the top. It’s as if his tongue wants to taste every tiny part of her delicate skin. Then, upon reaching the top of her pussy, his tongue wants to do it all over again. Taste her again. Feel her skin again.

These slow, slow journeys make her melt. As if she has any muscles left after his kissing journey up her legs. She’s utterly relaxed, melding with her sundress and the bed sheet. She could be floating on a lake, melding into the water, becoming the lake that gently laps the shore, and teasing the shore because it cannot move and the lake can. But it is he that gently laps at her, like the lake. And she ripples in response, also like the lake. Rippling, rippling, the lake water now shifting as the wind blows it in different directions. His tongue moving not just up and down, but twirling, sweeping around, sliding. Making her, as lake water, follow in whatever direction he leads.

When the tip of his tongue touches her clitoris, it’s as if lightning flashes across the sky. The lake no longer dreamily dances with the wind. She inhales quickly, holds her breath for a moment, waits for the tip of his tongue to touch her clitoris again.

But then, his tongue returns to her labia, and the dreamy dance continues. Back and forth, he does this, the wind blowing her as his tongue swirls about her labia, and then flashes of lightning brilliantly light up the sky as his tongue tickles her lit. Back and forth, his tongue dances its dreamy dance upon her delighted flesh.

She feels her breasts, wishes they were naked. But that wish whisks off in a gust of wind, and she enjoys the softness of her sundress over her breasts, the feeling of her dress that she had enjoyed when they were walking among the shops earlier in the day.

More and more flashes of lightning race in the clouds. More and more, the tip of his tongue lights her up. Caressing the bolt of her clitoris, frolicking with it. More and more. More and more. The lightning flashes. The winds pick up strength as they blow on the lake water.

She gasps, again and again. She gasps, seeing his tousled hair beyond the hills of her sundress-covered breasts. Seeing his tousled hair above her pussy. Seeing his closed eyes as he focuses on his blissful mouth. Feeling his cheeks on her thighs. Him, him, him. She loves him. She loves that he loves giving this to her. He loves making her feel this way. It’s obvious in how he does this. Obvious in how he had said “I love it when you’re wet, baby.” The pleasure in his voice. Because he loves making her wet, and then he loves licking up that wet.

The sky is lit all up with lightning, the flashes bursting all over the sky, the wind has much stronger intensity now, as if blowing her sundress into quivering ripples, and blowing her long hair back. The wind is sweet, gorgeous on her face, and she opens her eyes wide to see the lightning flash, pulsing from the clouds that are bigger than the lake, bigger than forever. She can’t gasp, her breath has been snatched away. Again and again, the lightning lights up her eyes.

Gradually, the storm fades, rolls on. The lake water is still once more. She releases her breasts. She slides her hands across the bed sheets, making that whish sound again. A wish fulfilled. A dream lived.

She looks up, sees his face just above her pussy as he looks back at her. She slowly shakes her head, as if saying “no” over and over, as if she can’t believe this. In response, he slowly nods his head, as if saying “yes,” as if telling her that she better believe it. She loves how his lower lip rubs on her glowing pussy as he nods.



Author: augustmacgregor

I'm a writer of erotica and romantic fiction.

8 thoughts on “Sundress

  1. I really shouldn’t read this when I’m recuperating…sigh…it’s lovely (and hot!) 🙂


  2. ……..I should go. Thanks, Gus. Wow. Your wife is a lucky girl.


  3. This is a great write– I loved the pacing, and of course, the ending…. 🙂


  4. This was a wonderfully sexy bit of light reading for my lunch break 🙂


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