Alexis Shore's Blog

February 25, 2011

When I was twenty, I saw in the Millennium with friends from university. I had recently stopped drinking alcohol, and so as the night wore on I found the drunken company increasingly hard work.

At about ten to midnight, a new person arrived, a friend of a friend's brother. She was called Trella, and was sober like me, and I found her pretty.

We quickly got talking and the night got better.

By about four AM everyone was drifting off to various areas of the house to settle down to sleep. I wanted the double mattress that had been set up in the hallway, but I was usurped by Trella and her friend.

So I ended up curled in a ball on an armchair by the living room door. Everyone was asleep by now, their discomforts easier to ignore with the booze.

Sober and uncomfortable, I was wide awake. There was also a draught from the open door beside me.

I uncurled and leant across to shut it, catching a glimpse of the mattress in the hallway.

I saw Trella's friend propped up above her, and the moment I saw them was the moment he pushed himself inside. It was dark, so I saw shadows and silhouettes, and heard Trella begin to enjoy herself with an intensely subdued silence.

I left the door ajar and curled back up in my chair, listening as I found something to occupy myself.
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Published on February 25, 2011 07:24 • 747 views • Tags: hot-spot

February 24, 2011

Coming back from a meeting in London, I was packed in to a crowded train on a sticky summer's evening.

The windows were open, but there wasn't enough breeze, and we were all glistening a little.

I was sat on one of the baggage shelves, and opposite me was a lesbian couple. They weren't canoodling or anything, just a single kiss at one point.

When one of them leant down to check her back however, her vest top gave way and gave me a very clear view of a nipple. Brown and large.

Made me smile for a moment in an otherwise unwelcoming environment.
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Published on February 24, 2011 17:43 • 257 views • Tags: hot-spot
I'm a voyeur at heart (and loins). I love catching glimpses of stolen sexual moments. I'm going to share some of them in the blog, so if you like this sort of thing, keep an eye out for the Hot Spots.

I've just been shopping, and it reminded me of the cute couple I saw in the supermarket a few months ago.

She was flame-haired and had a delicious body; he looked Scandinavian and was hiding some tone beneath his top. They were trying to choose their dinner from the chiller cabinet, and it was taking them an age.

He was hugged up behind her, and they kept debating their choices.

As I examined the reduced offers, they began giggling. But then she stopped giggling and made a delightful little noise. They were silent for a moment, then I heard her say softly, "Stop now."

I couldn't see what he was doing (shame), but the sound she made is the same one I make if something brushes against my pearl when I'm mid-sentence.

I went home, skipped putting the groceries away, and had a think about what might have happened had they asked me back to theirs to watch the rest.
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Published on February 24, 2011 07:18 • 147 views • Tags: hot-spot
For a while there, I was addicted to cybersex. And I mean properly addicted, to the detriment of other things in my life. It even made me do some daft, albeit incredibly exciting things.

It was a fairly one-sided affair though. I would spend hours composing vivid prose that aroused me as I wrote it, only to get the reply "mmm".

Things have moved on since, what with webcams, Skype and real user chatrooms that have video and audio.

Don't get me wrong, I used all those too. But having fun on camera was a different thrill, and never as intense or sustained.

I got so horny writing these chats I even met three people who were in the same city as me. We made no pretense of a "getting to know you" date, or a safe meeting place somewhere public. We met at my house - for sex.

Good sex for the most part too, if a little empty and not as imaginatively arousing as the cybersex.

Luckily, I've managed to rein it in to something more constructive and less destructive now. I love writing erotica even more than I loved cybering.
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Published on February 24, 2011 02:46 • 202 views