A WHITE WOMAN EXPLAINS WHY SHE PREFERS BLACK MEN
“How many white men can treat a woman like a lady and ravish her too?”
By Susan Crain Bakos
Black skin is thick and lush, sensuous to the touch, like satin and velvet made flesh. There's only one patch of skin on a white man's body that remotely compares to nearly every inch of a black man's skin. The first time I caressed black skin, it felt like a luxury I shouldn't be able to afford. I craved it more strongly than Carrie Bradshaw craved Manolo Blahnik shoes. That phrase, "Once you go black, you never go back" is all about the feeling of the skin.
And I had the socially acceptable explanation for my craving. I used that paucity-of-available-white-partners rationale to explain my relationships with black men for several years. A white woman past forty is often passed over by her white-male contemporaries. She goes younger or ethnic or foreign-born or down the socioeconomic scale or darker or she spends lonely nights at home with her cats. Black men are happy to get the babe they couldn't have when she was twentysomething and fertile. The laws of the marketplace do prevail. It's not me, it's them—them being the white guys who weren't after me anymore, or so I claimed.
That's a lie. The truth is, I attract about the same percentage of available white men my age (and far younger!) now as I did when I was thirty—and that's not including the unavailable white men who want to play around anyway.
Enough white men want me that I was hardly facing enforced celibacy, but I don't want them.
I want black men...
Whole article here:
http://www.nypress.com/18/49/news&columns/SusanCrainBakos.cfm____________________________________________________________________________________________
But...who could resist this:
On second thought...so
that's why he's so angry! :think: :hide: