Sage Phillips Nude Novels & Stories

Sage ran her fingers over his jawline, her mind spinning with the sensation of him. As they kissed, their clothes came off, scattering on the floor. Soon, Sage was sitting in the middle of the bed bare from the waist up except for a pair of silk white panties covering her nether regions. Her long black curly hair was fanned across the bed, tangled and slightly disheveled. Her breasts were exposed, their peaks protruding invitingly above the lace of the lace cups. Sage was panting, and her nipples tightened as his fingers brushed her thighs softly, causing a shiver to travel down her spine.

However, I’ve never looked at them this way. From the eyes of a horny guy. “It’s okay, Sage,” Celine says softly, climbing onto the bed. “You can look.” When my gaze finds hers, she’s giving me a seductive smile as she settles beside my hip, pushing her hair back. “Do you like what you see?” She arches her back, pushing her breasts out so that the pink nipples are jutting out temptingly. I nod despite how weird this all is. “Yeah.” And the penis likes it too.

Just pure, filthy freedom. We take a private golf cart down to the secluded beach. The cove is perfect: soft white sand, turquoise water, tall cliffs on both sides that hide us from the main resort. A few discreet staff members set up an oversized lounger with thick towels, a chilled bottle of champagne, and a discreet black bag that I know contains toys. Then they disappear. Sophia drops her cover-up first. She’s completely naked underneath, body toned and glowing, full breasts with dark nipples already tight. She lies back on the lounger like a queen, legs spreading lazily. The sun kisses her pussy — smooth, pink, already glistening.

Her soft, full breasts, narrow waist, wide hips, and round, perky ass had made her a favorite in fashion and lingerie circles for the past two years. But today was different. Today, she was doing her first fully nude photoshoot. The man behind the camera was a legend in the industry: **Julian Black**, 38. Renowned for his fine-art and erotic photography, his work hung in prestigious galleries and the private collections of the wealthy and powerful. His images were sensual, raw, intimate, and unapologetically erotic. Julian stood near the large industrial windows, adjusting softbox lights with practiced precision. He was tall and broad-shouldered, with sharp, chiseled features, dark hair stre

Sage had his arm wrapped behind her, making the image seem intimate. She glanced at the caption; Mystery Woman is Playboy Billionaire's Newest Girlfriend. Scrolling further, she found another set of pictures. This time, it was when she was already in the car. The first photo showed her sitting in the driver's seat while the succeeding ones showed how Sage bent down and leaned inside. While the angle of the photos were only able to show Sage's back at the last shot, it was easy for anyone to imagine what could have happened inside. Lia felt her blood creeping up to her head.

Completely naked. What the hell?

Sage half apologized and explained. “They’re cute, but they’re coming off.” I smiled, pulling them and the fishnet stockings down next. Jackpot. The bulge I’d felt in the car and saw as I’d been undressing Sage was not all material. I’ve sadly had that happen. It’s not bad. It’s just disappointing when they happen to be smaller than anticipated. Sage certainly delivered on size. I cocked my head, looking at the light blonde pubic hair. The carpet doesn’t match the drapes. However, I still didn’t know if their purple hair was because Sage was a hybrid or their choice.

“Okay, I’ll send you the info as soon as I get it.” Resting the phone on the counter, I look towards the bathroom door. The shower cuts off, and Sage steps out of her room a moment later. She looks amazing in her flannel string top and boxer shorts. Her bare toes are painted an electric blue color, and her hair is up in a knot. I almost swallow my tongue when I see the outline of her swollen nipples beneath the shirt.”Dinner’s ready,” I say steadily. She gives me a soft smile, her pouty lips looking kissable.

Death to themselves or death to others. “You’ve been staring at your laptop for a whole damn hour now, Nicole.” All her attention was turned to whoever spoke and it was none other than Sage. Sage—who is looking incredibly comfortable right now with his sweat pants and white plain shirt. Yes those details matter so much, because of how pleasing he is her view, that she needed to emphasize on them. That white shirt? Damn. Sage’s eyebrows perk up with an amused look; that was the only time she realized that she was ogling him like a mad woman. Did she shy away though? Of course not. In fact, she returned his amused expression with a smug smile.

He locked the door behind us with the same deliberate click from yesterday. “Strip,” he said. No preamble. Philip moved first—hoodie over his head, t-shirt following, jeans shoved down. He kicked off his sneakers, socks, boxers last. Naked in seconds, cock already half-hard, curving up toward his stomach. Yesterday’s bruises bloomed faintly on his hips where Henry’s fingers had dug in. I followed slower. Skirt pooled at my ankles. Top lifted off. Bra unhooked. Standing in just thigh-high socks because I’d wanted to feel a little less exposed. My nipples tightened instantly in the cool air.