Belinda LaPage Erotica

Writing saucy stories about her pleasure Web | Amazon | Smashwords

[leaharvey1821]

Some of my infatuations and characters/actors that often influence the way my characters act in my #amwriting.

[belindalapage]

I’m always going to have a soft spot for Xena and Gabrielle. I wrote them into a story and didn’t realise it till I was halfway through. Lovely shots.

[belindalapage]

What were they thinking?

Just ... nope. I’m sitting on the floor. Facing the other way.

[pansatyriam]

[belindalapage]

Sugar, this is hot as. There’s some other-worldly sexy business going on in this model’s life. Thank you for sharing. I might write something to this.

[belindalapage]

Hot Snippet - Best on Board

I just re-edited my hot Mile-High Virgin Fantasy, Best on Board. Enjoy this sexy snippet.

Bob raised his head again, opening his lips for Vicky to kiss, still not brave enough to take the initiative to go first. Vicky tilted her head and kissed him again, not pulling away this time, but closing her lips in time with his and then opening again, developing some suction as she touched her tongue to his lip. Bob responded with more pressure, tentatively touching his tongue to the junction of their lips, unsure what to do next.

Vicky helped him, bringing her tongue to touch his and stroking it. She entered his mouth and then pulled slowly away, teasing, drawing him back into her mouth. She probed forward again, extending the sweet contact along the length of Bob’s tongue, tasting toothpaste, salt and peanuts.

The soft kisses had distracted her and when Bob’s erection pulsed under her fingers, she quickly began to make up for lost time, stroking him through his pants, closing around the edges, and greedily measuring his length and girth. Bob held his hands up by her shoulders, not touching and unsure where to put them. With her free hand, Vicky reached across and took his opposite wrist, moving his hand to her breast and then guiding the other one behind her to cup her bottom, still perched on the sink.

Bob inexpertly explored the firmness of her flesh, shaping his hands around her curves, daring to squeeze, feeling the softness, pliant but firm under his touch. Gaining confidence, he moved his fingers around Vicky’s bottom, running down the cleft covered by her skirt. With the other hand, he stroked a thumb across her breast, seeking the nipple but missing and coming back for a second pass.

Vicky popped the top three buttons of her blouse and then, momentarily losing contact with the bulge in Bob’s trousers, she unfastened the front clasp of her bra, which fell away on the side that Bob wasn’t holding. Whimpering small cries of encouragement, she returned one hand to Bob’s erection and used the other to guide his fingers inside her blouse, her nipple hard and proud immediately beneath his touch.

She unzipped his trousers and probed inside over his shorts, finding the root of his cock, squeezing and tracing its length downwards to the tip. He gasped at the closer contact; just the thin cotton of his shorts separated her hand from his manhood. He kissed her again, harder, his excitement building as she rhythmically squeezed in time with their kisses.

Abandoning her bottom, Bob brought his other hand around and cupped her small breasts, pinching the hard nipples, marvelling at their texture. He lifted and tested their weight, squeezing them gently together and stealing glances around her kisses.

Noticing this, Vicky arched back. Breathing in and lifting her breasts upwards, she pressed on the back of his neck to guide him down. She gasped as he kissed one nipple, sucking it and then releasing—just as they’d done kissing—and then moving to the other one, probing with his tongue and tracing the hard bumps of her areola.

A fire kindled between Vivky’s legs and she silently cursed the triple layers of her skirt, pantyhose and panties. The pencil skirt stretched tight over her hips. From the outside, it was possible only to touch the pubic bone, but the heat was further down, between her thighs. The only way there was up and under her skirt, but even then, her underwear blocked the way. Unable to manoeuvre in the airplane bathroom, the task seemed impossible. First, she would deal with Bob and then together they would find a way.

Her kisses became more frantic and she voiced little cries of encouragement as he explored her breasts, rewarding the things she liked with a low moan and a squeeze of his cock. She unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned his trousers, allowing them to fall in a pool around his ankles. She didn’t bother taking them any further, there just wasn’t enough room. Reluctantly taking her hand from the front of his shorts, she hooked both thumbs over the waistband and pulled them down, playing her fingers over his buttocks as she went. Bending slightly at the knees, she inched them lower until finally they too fell to the floor.

His cock stood straight up between them and she stole her first glance, confirming what her fingers already knew. He was about six to seven inches and medium thickness, and right now as hard as forged iron with pre-cum beading on the tip. Vicky wished she could kneel and take him in her mouth, to taste him and explore all of the bumps and veins with her lips and tongue. Instead, she looked back into his blue eyes and took him in an underhand grip, stroking and relishing the throbbing power as she squeezed.

Still holding Bob’s gaze, she released his erection and popped forward off the hand basin. “This isn’t going to be elegant,” she warned him with a shy smile. She hitched her skirt higher on her waist and then reached down for the hem, sliding it up and over her hips. She hooked her thumbs into the pantyhose and panties together, pulling them both down to her thighs before she couldn’t reach any further. There was no room to bend over, but unfazed, she popped her bare bottom back up on the basin, slipped out of her shoes, and lifted her feet off the floor and over the commode. Silently thanking God for years of dance lessons, she drew her knees up to her chest and then extended them straight up in the air and slightly apart, watching Bob between them.

“That was the most elegant thing I think I’ve ever seen,” he whispered, spellbound.

“We’re not done yet,” she said, holding her bare thighs with both hands to maintain the position. She eyed the tangled mess of panties and pantyhose between her thighs. “Help me.”

Bob closed both hands around one naked thigh, his fingers just centimetres from Vicky’s soaking but (at this angle) hidden vagina. He slid them upwards, relishing the smoothness of her leg beneath the sheer nylon until he could go no further. He repeated on the other leg, alternating until he’d slid the ball of nylon and cotton over her toes.

Free at last, Vicky relaxed her long, smooth legs, and braced them high against the opposite wall behind Bob’s shoulders. She leaned forward with a teenaged flexibility she’d almost forgotten and kissed him again, and then taking him by the waist, she drew him into the vee of her thighs until the shaft of his cock rested against her soaking lips.

Vicky thought she was wet enough, but she’d been caught before spoiling the moment of entry by wincing in pain. Conversely, the feeling of a man sliding into her, smooth and tight and without resistance, had brought her to an immediate orgasm before, so there was plenty at stake. She knew they were on the clock, but surely some more foreplay couldn’t hurt.

“Touch me,” she whispered between breathless kisses, opening her knees a little wider in case there was any confusion about just where she wanted to be touched.

Unable to see down between their bodies, Bob moved a shaking hand to her sex. He lifted his erection from Vicky’s open lips and probed her wetness with three fingertips, demonstrating no clear purpose. Haplessly mapping the foreign terrain of her womanhood by touch, he brushed her clitoris, eliciting a surprised gasp, and then followed her whispered instructions lower until the resistance beneath his index finger fell away and he found her entrance.

Vick closed her eyes as Bob slid a finger into her—only as far as the first knuckle—and breathed hot and ragged whimpers of encouragement into his ear, following them with frantic denials, no-no-no-please, as he withdrew. She moaned with pleasure when he returned, deeper this time but still as smooth as silk, staying longer as she warmed his touch with her furnace heat. She arched, moving her hips, wanting him deeper, wanting a second finger to open her wider. Sensing his lack of experience, she was reluctant to spoil everything with too much instruction. She allowed Bob to explore by touch inside her vagina, kissing him and trying not to think how much it felt like a vaginal exam, making sure she reinforced everything he did right with moans and whimpers and soft bites to his lips.

He was a most attentive student and within a minute, he had his first two fingers inserted to the hilt, rhythmically fucking her with the length of the last joint and gliding sensuously over her clitoris with the tip of his thumb.

Soon his entire hand was coated in her freely flowing juices. The waiting was too much to bear and she was so hot, her need so great that she felt sure she would come before he was fully inside her. Breaking their kiss, she touched noses and looked wantonly into his eyes, seeing that he was at least as ready as she was.

Vicky swallowed nervously and whispered, “I’m ready.”

Best on Board is on special at 50% off for the month of July.

[belindalapage]

I can’t put it off any longer. I’m releasing the uncut version of Totally Coached soon - I’d nerfed the original into oblivion to get it past Amazon - and it’s time for my second least favourite bit of self-publishing - cover creation. *groan*.

When I saw this photo, I had to have it. The model is almost exactly how I pictured Margy (her name is Steffi in the uncut version).

The photo is a little monochromatic, so I plan to give her some skin tone and maybe make her undies a sexier colour.

[belindalapage]

Occasionally I’m inspired by sensual art. There’s some sexy stuff here on Tumblr - mostly too explicit for my purposes though. I want my imagination to do the work.

Here’s something I wrote inspired by the linked photo (with thanks to NextDoorSecret). I call it :

Jenna’s Choice

Copyright © 2015 Belinda LaPage

Throbbing music pounds through me so hard my fingers tingle all rhythm, no melody

Lights flash twined bodies fill the dance floor grind together to form a single organism sleek, lithe feline

A club with no men: Jenna’s choice The vacation together: that was mine Barbados: Jenna The Sapphire Hotel: me

I wanted the spa, a facial braids in our hair Brazillians for two? Our outfits? I had never! They were Jenna’s choice as well

Wet, faux-leather short-shorts outerwear bras hers with a breathtaking panel cut into each side-swell

Jenna’s choice is next I know what she wants now maybe I always have

I’m ready! I’m yours! I could scream the words aloud and she wouldn’t hear There’s safety in the dance but I can’t bear safety any longer

Senses overload sight sound smell all meaningless in the writhing beast

There is only touch Jenna’s touch her hip, an elbow The tips of her breasts brush across my back

I lift my braids to cool my neck Jenna’s finger slides beneath my bra strap It’s your turn Your choice, Jenna God help me Choose while my answer is still yes