for the lack of posts lately, i’ve been caught up in other projects that were pressing and time consuming. and although i’d like nothing more than to reminisce on mind blowing sexual experiences from the past, i’m a busy woman and i have shit to do. too bad.

since i haven’t had time to write, i’m going to take a chance to post one of the submissions that i’ve received. to the writter: if you’d like to be credited, let me know and i will link this post to your tumblr. & thank you very much for this lovely piece of writing. 

You’re the reason I only ever draw girls. 
When I was 14, you had the nicest smile I had ever seen; your nose would crease, it was fabulous. I wanted to be the reason for that smile, and I was so happy when we became best friends, and that we would jokingly call each other the other ones property. But then real jealousy struck, you didn’t want to see me have fun with other girls.
I didn’t really understand. I’m sorry.
But remember when we would go to your house over the weekend, go swimming in your pool, and talk non stop, no sleep, nothing? Those were the sweetest moments for me…

The best night was when you kissed me. We could kiss for hours, but I was young, shy, I didn’t know what the fuck to do, I barely even knew my own body before you made me discover. Your laughter as you showed me the nicest feeling. Your face as I tried to retaliate…

We’re barely even friends now; you wouldn’t think that you affected my life like this but you did, because from time to time I remember the closeness, the feelings that never really matured, and I still remember when you would break out in tears at any moment months before I was going to move.

I got over you, and I’ve never had an encounter with a girl since. It’s always on the back of my mind - I love guys, but I know that if I were to meet someone as sweet as you used to be, at the top of your 14 years, I  know I could love her too.
It’s weird seeing you and your new life, now. But you gave me the best fucking memories ever <3

Ps : you always smelled really nice, you set the standard for everyone else!

Dear You,

i vividly remember the time
that you waited for me outside the bathroom door
and in the middle of the party
you pushed me back inside
& out there
while people laughed out of pleasure
and pure ecstasy
we did the same
quietly shaking underneath each others fingertips 

Love Lust Always,
forgotten.

so, there are a few really important relationships in my life. & luckily for myself, i’m able to say that i still keep in contact with these wonder people. not that i think they’ll ever read this or realize that i write it even it they did happen upon it, but out of respect and love, i’m going to give them little nicknames. If they do read this, they will know exactly who the fuck I am. I kind of like that.

this girl i’m going to begin to write about is one of the important ones. She is, in fact, my first love. I thought that I had been in love with other people before her, but naw. She was the one. We met online. I think i hollered at her on Myspace when i was about fifteen, and she was eighteen. She was an artist and the cutest thing I had ever seen in my entire life, and she was into being my friend. I lived in the Southern Most state and, and she lived all the way up in Illinois. We called each other baby girl and soon the ghetto ass abbreviation of “BG” came into to play. So we’ll call her that.

A half-puerto-rican-half-white girl with swag and artistic intellect, charm, wit and the best sense of humor. We connected on so many levels because of the way we were raised, the type of people we hung with, our interests and passions.. except that she loved Ani difranco. (i know i just got unfollowed so hard, but I don’t dislike Ani, i’m just not in love with her like BG was.. so click that little plus sign up there again..) 

I don’t really have a “type” when it comes to women. I’m not sure how people receive that when i say it, but it’s true. I like all types of women people. All colors, all shapes, all sizes and creeds and whatever else there is. [I’m also attracted to trans people. More on that, later.] So, that being said, I really can’t say that BG is the perfect “type” of girl in my mind, but if I ever had to put a label on something like that, or choose a person that defines that type of feeling, it would be her. I don’t want to get into to what she looked like because I could probably go on for hours about it.. 

more later tonight. xo, babies.
don’t forget to feel free to send me one of your memories
to the people who have already sent them, i’ll post them soon, promise.

-Real<3 

Your girl Real reporting.

as i was saying before, Kristen.. was hot. she was hot and domineering and aggressive and had just got out of a shitty relationship with a dipshit of a man that left her for a “friend.” (side note: straight girls get fucked with so bad, it makes me sad for them.) since this break up she decided to go out and do whatever the fuck she wanted, which i guess involved having a sexual encounter with one of your teenage employees & a good friend of yours.

i’m jumping the gun. let me start by telling you that one day after work she invited to take me for a frappuccino. Since I was 16 years old, and a mexican girl from the inner city, I had never had some thing so decadent that wasn’t definitive of my own culture. She stared at me as i sipped the sugary concoction for the first time ever. Her eyes glowed with the eager curiosity of some one who enjoys “popping the cherry” of others. (Thus started my few year obsession with caramel fraps..) i was into her watching me absolutely enjoyed the treat that she bestowed upon me, licking my lips and auditorally showing that i was ecstatic of the flavor that was overflowing on my tongue and lips..

I looked at her with eyes that burned under my eyebrows. Her eyes widened and i knew that my appeal and boyish charm masked by long hair/skirts/face had captured her interest.. as we left while it was raining, she kissed me under the awning of the Houston Public Library. She walked me to the bus stop and waited with me, her dress shoes getting damp and ruined in the hurricane season downpour. 

The next week she had a “volunteer” come in to “help” me with my database entry.

That’s what she told our boss. That’s what was written on her time sheet, at least. Kristen brought in one of her old friends who she had mentioned before. What i knew before that point: Kristen had the HARDEST CRUSH on this girl.. for years! This woman who was coming in was butch, but feminine in stature, and sweet in demeanor. Not to mention sexy as fuck. Tall and skinny, dark brown skin and dreads down past her chin. She acted like a boi, or boy, or whatever you’d like to call it. Flat chest/stomach, with a button up shirt and baggy Khaki shorts. Hat worn to the back. Pooka shell necklace. She resembled what you would call a “Bro” now-a-days, except she was fucking hot as fuck. Tiffany. That was her name. She was friends with Kristen but had never felt a sexual interest in her, although she had been pursued for years.

The day that i met her, she came in to the office an hour after i did, (around 10am,) and stayed at my cubicle all day, flirting relentlessly, her hand creeping up my thigh length skirt. And while i invited it, I felt kind of bad, because Kristen, who i was madly in crush with, had feelings for Tiffany for years before i had met her. She had always wanted to hook up with Tiffany, but homegirl wasn’t having it. Apparently, white girls weren’t her cup of tea.. 

Guilt quickly dissolved into excitement as I realized the appeal of the “triangle effect.”

In this case, the triangle effect made it’s impact in the sense that Kristen wanted Tiffany, Tiffany wanted me, and I wanted Kristen. It was a circle of hormones and sexuality and curiosity and not giving a fuck and want and lust and what ever else. &Some how, i convinced these two 22 year old women to ride the city Metro bus home with me .. and spend the night. Although i was 16, my parents, who didn’t pay much attention to me, because of their busy lives supporting a 5+ person household, were fine with the idea of my supervisor and co-worker spending a summer night at my house, in my single bedroom that contained one, count ‘em one, twin size bed. Lucky. Fucking. Me.

The night started normally. We rode the city bus the usual 45 minutes home talking and making fun of the weirdos on the bus and sneaking long stares at each other to my house. We arrived and were there alone, my siblings away living abroad/at college and my parents at work, or something. There was dinner waiting for us, so we didn’t have to go anywhere. We ate quickly and immediately went to my small bedroom to share space with each other.

i’ve been a smoker for years. almost a decade. and i’m not talking about tobacco, although i did have my fair share of that horrible vice. the reason why i’m telling you that is because after our dinner, i brought out a pipe and proceeded to get stoned out of my mind in order to maintain composure and swag. These two girls didn’t smoke, but decided to partake this particular night. <Insert devilish smile here.>

I gave the ladies comfortable nightwear, like my baggy boxers and over sized undershirts, and we began to talk candidly about our mutual attractions and giggle and touch each other to the sounds of the music i played softly out of the stereo. the only light that shined through the room was a plastic arrow that read “one way” and pointed to my bed. (Clever 16 year old, que no?) I’m not sure what lead to what, or how we assumed the position, but the next thing i remember after smoking and enabling these women, i was bent over the side of my bed with Tiffany behind me, holding my hips steady as Kristen touched me between my legs through the sheer material of my panties.. 

i had never, ever, EVER let myself assume the submissive role thus far in my sexual life, but in that moment, i had no choice. i was far too intrigued to reject or resist any of these advances, and to be completely honest, these women forcing me to acquiesce to their will made me feel powerful and strong, because i knew that though they exerted the force, i was truly in control, allowing them to do these things until i reached my limit or was satisfied with them.. i let myself be touched and rolled over and slapped and spanked, i took it, and remained quiet to entice them to be rougher, because i wanted it, i wanted to experience the quality of sex that i had given to others. I wanted to be completely dominated, with every part of me agreeing to the actions that were executed on me. I begged for it silently, with my eyes, with my nails, with my teeth.. and i was given all that i wanted.. and a precedent was set for the type of rough physicality that i expect now.. when i’m feeling that energy from some one, that is..

until next time, lovelies.. oh, &by the way.. tell your friends

-Real<3

i had a naked video chat conference with two of my writers. pretty fucking amazing.

i feel like the amount of detail i put in these posts take away from the amount of pure SEX that there is in them. so i’m going to try to be brief. we’ll see how this works.

when i was 15 i wrecked my brothers car into a park near a play ground WHILE SOBER (long story short) and i had to do like, 40 hours of community service, or something. maybe it was 80 hours. all i know is i spent my whole summer doing fucking community service, and it was a pain in the ass piece of shit.

or so i thought

i worked for the city hall’s Volunteer Initiative Program (figure it out) doing database and clerical work. i was a glorified intern, basically. the first few weeks of the summer sucked and i spent them day dreaming about using the office phone to call my ex-girlfriend who lived across the country. (remind me to tell you about her later.) 

in the middle of my first month of “pushing paper,” as my father calls it, my boss hired a supervisor to over see the work in my department. there were paid receptionists who did the same thing that i did. i expected this supervisor to be a middle aged bald man with bad breath and pants that were always too tight (shudder). what i got, instead, was a tall, blonde glass of water. And i don’t mean “tall for a woman,” either. Home girl was just.. TALL. 6 feet at least. i used to watch her walk around the office and found myself wondering what she was doing during the day. I would also try my hardest not to stare at her ass after she left my desk each morning with a stack of applications to input into the database. What I would’ve given to input into HER database.. Fortunately for myself, i didn’t have to give up anything TO… input.. into her database… Okay, enough with the puns, i’m obviously not funny.

Kristen wore knee length pencil skirts and button up collared blouses.. with the top always undone. Seriously. She wore her hair pulled back into a tight bun and by the end of the day there would be these long curls that hung from the base of her neck. I would fantasize about wrapping them around my fingertips and pulling lightly.

..More later, i promise it gets good..

-Real<3

i don’t know how much of my self i will reveal to you all. i don’t really know what’s appropriate, or what will keep me at the level of anonymity that i would like to remain. i suppose there’s a few things that you should know, so that you’ll have an idea of what’s going on.

info about Real:
-Girl, early twenties.
-openly queer, since about 13 years.
-“gold star” status with men (Meaning i’ve never fucked a guy)
-curious about men (GASP! A queer girl curious about men? Escandalo!)
-single (thank you God)

So, I think I’ll begin with a story about teenage Real. I’ve been out and open about my sexuality for quite sometime, now. I began to have sexual experiences with other girls around the age of 12. The first time I ever kissed a girl was also the first time that I lost some of my childlike purity. I stayed the night at my middle school best friends house. She was 13 and I was 12, and her best friend was 14 or 15. I can’t really remember, it was more than a decade ago. My best friend, N, was a beautiful Saudi Arabian girl that was born in Jordan and moved to the US when she was a toddler. We met in sixth grade, at 11 years old and became inseparable, even after I moved schools during the summer. I stayed the night at her house all the time, and one night that I’ll never remember N’s bestfriend, Hanna, came to stay the night. Hanna. Where should I start? Hanna was gorgeous. Punky. She wore a misfits beanie over her blonde choppy dirty blonde hair. She has braces. She smiled and lit up the room.

This one particular evening, we all were laying on N’s bed watching some shitty movie, most likely the Spice Girls one. N fell asleep way before Hanna and I did, and we stayed up talking in hushed tones as not to wake up N. After hours and hours of “pillow talk,” Hanna lightly touched my hand with her fingertips, and this small gesture of intimacy was enough to leave me reeling and aching for more, aching for something I had never experienced before: Pleasure. 

Hanna’s hands crept up my arms to my neck, revealing for the first time ever, my “hot spot,” or the part of your body that, when touched, sends electrical impulses all over every where, especially between your legs, letting your mind know, “This person knows what the fuck they’re doing, LET THEM.” My muscles tightened up and my knees slammed together involuntarily. Hanna saw or felt this, and reached between my thighs and pulled my legs open slowly, as if to make sure that I had enough time to say “No” if i didn’t appreciate these advances. But, i did.

And then, I experienced my first “Real” girl kiss. 
She kissed me. Hard. I could feel the metal on her braces pressed up against my lips, she kissed me so hard. It scraped the insides of my lips, and I liked it. My first (of many) experience[s] with pleasure and pain. I was so tense and out of my element that I lay there motionless, except for the occasional squirm closer to her body. Her mouth on mine made me feel things I didn’t realize that I could feel. My body relaxed and my muscles loosened, she felt this and slid her tongue into my mouth, and softly tasted all over my lips. The tasted of her spit made me so excited, more excited than I have ever been. I wanted to drink of her, she was so sweet. I hungrily sucked on her tongue and my hands started moving on their own, instinctually petting and grabbing any thing within reach. She grabbed my inexperienced hands and put them up her shirt forcefully. I groped and grabbed until I felt i couldn’t take anymore. That’s when her hand went down my throat, past my chest, over my stomach, and into the waist band of my boxer shorts..

I wanted to say no, I think. I remember wondering if this was “It,” if i was going to lose my “virginity” at age 12 and be one of those ho-ass girls that run around fucking whoever/whatever before they turn 15. i remember being scared by it.  and as all these thoughts ran through my head, she took from me my first ray of purity and innocence. And i enjoyed it. Immensely. My clit had never been touched by anyone and as she touched me, I gave all I could to her. Let her take control completely and do as she pleased. It hurt, and it felt good, and I loved it and hated it all at once. I fell in love a little bit that night, and when I woke up the next morning, she acted as if nothing happened, as if she had no connection with me what so ever, as if she hadn’t touched and tasted the sweetest part of me I had to offer.

My first female Kiss, Sex, and Heartbreak… all in 12 hours. Ahhhh, thank god i’m not a teenager anymore. No offense to all you loyal readers out there that are, but that shit SUCKED. 

Stay tuned for more adventures in Lesb. Sex. Maybe next time i’ll tell you about my first threesome at 16 with two 22 year old women? Or about getting caught in front of an elementary school naked in a 4x4 at midnight? Or about all the fun I had in high school (Locker room shower stories, seriously) ? Who knows.

Love Peace and always be
-Real<3 

today i was inspired a blog that a friend of mine is writing under an anonymous pseudonym. she’s writing about her encounters as a woman who has as much sex with as many men as possible. at first i was a little upset by this blog, seeing as i used to have deep emotional feelings for this woman. but, c’est la vie, que no? 

instead of letting these old emotions come flying back up to greet me in the face/heart/ass, i decided to take a little page out of her “Not giving a fuck” book and write my own blog, discussing and, yes, chronicling specific sexual encounters that i think are interesting or sexy or thought invoking enough for others to be interested as well.

this blog will be a compilation, written by myself, some of my close friends, and you, the readers. feel free to look on the right side of the page in the information column to find the area where you submit your own awesome story, or ask your own awesome question. The only question i wont answer is one that reveals my “Real” identity, because this IS my REAL identity.

My name is Real, and you are real. Real, meet real. Nice to meet you. Enjoy. I hope there is a lot to come (;

-Real<3