I've never considered myself a racist, because I've always done my best to look at people as individuals, regardless of color. And, when the subject of race was unavoidable, I've always erred on the side of caution to keep from offending anyone. But, I was recently accused of being racist, for precisely that reason, being too cautious. You see, even though I'm happily married, I still flirt with all the girls where I work. Well, all the girls except one, a girl who just started working there 6 months ago. The reason I don't is because she's drop dead gorgeous and all the other guys already flirt with her. So, since my flirts are the harmless type, I don't want her to get them confused with their serious flirting. She though, doesn't see it that way and thinks the only reason I don't flirt with her, is because of her color. That's because Diedre, or Dee as she likes to be called, is as black as coffee. Hot black coffee that everyone, including me, would love to put some cream into.
Obviously I've got the hots for her, just like the rest of the guys at work do. Maybe more so, because of some interracial fantasies I have about really dark skinned women. And maybe that's the real reason I don't flirt with Dee, because I'm afraid my flirting would stop being harmless. So, you can imagine how shocked I was by her accusation. Also, since I'm not the best looking guy in the company, you can imagine my shock that she cared enough to make it. Don't get me wrong, I'm fairly handsome, and go to the gym regularly to stay in shape. But, with a dozen single guys, all better looking than me, chasing her, why would it matter that some married guy didn't? For some reason though, it bothered her enough to actually confront me about it.
It all started when one of the girls was walking down the hall, and bent over to pick up a pen she dropped. When she stood up, I told her I was going to buy a box of them just to watch her do that all day. She laughed, told me I was bad, then continued on to where she was going. That's when Dee, who'd been behind me, asked why I never did that with her. When I asked what, she said I joked around with all the other girls in the company, but not with her. And she wanted to know what was wrong with her that stopped me from doing that. I told her there was nothing wrong with her, and she said there must be. She'd been there for months, and I hadn't flirted with her like that even once. Yet there were girls who'd started after her and I flirted with all of them constantly. So, why was she the only girl I didn't flirt with? Was it because she was black, and I had something against flirting with black women?
Even though she hadn't said it in anger, not even in her eyes, she obviously wanted an answer. I quickly told her that her color had nothing to do with it, and she asked me again why then. I couldn't deny the accusation itself, because she really was the only girl I didn't flirt with. So I had no choice but to tell her part of the truth, that all the rest of the guys were already trying to get into her pants. I didn't want her to think I was one of them, since I only flirted as a game, not to get someone in bed. She smiled and said she'd never think of me as one of those guys, even if I was trying to get into her pants. But, she didn't believe that a good looking guy like me wasn't getting some serious offers because of that flirting. And, she thought I was just saying it was only a game to avoid hurting her feelings. When I tried to deny it, she said there was only one way to prove it to her. Either start flirting with her the way I did the other girls, or admit that I had something against black women.
As she walked away, I was still trying to figure out what was going on. Like I said, she hadn't been even the slightest bit angry when she made her accusations. It was more like she was flirting with me herself, than anything and challenging me to flirt back. And, her accusations were just some crazy way of getting me to play whatever game she was playing. What I couldn't figure out though, is why she wanted to play that game with me. Again, I'm not the best looking guy in the company. Hell, I'm not even in the top 10, if you want the honest truth. And let's not forget the fact that I'm married, and not the best looking married guy either. No matter how I looked at this, it just didn't make sense. Especially when I thought about the way she'd acted when talking to me. Because, I had the distinct impression that she didn't want this game to stop at simple flirting.
The bigger question though, was what was I going to do about this situation. I mean, had I been single, I would have already been in the group that was actively chasing her. But, I was actually happily married, and my beautiful wife took really good care of me in bed. That's why it was easy to turn down all the offers I'd gotten so far. I had everything I needed, at home, and as I said, my flirting was just for fun. Why was I worried about this then, if I my wife took such good care of me? That's because there were two big fantasies I had that my wife hadn't filled for me. One was a threesome with another woman, and had one of the girls offered that, I might be tempted. Although, I'd still have hesitated, because it wouldn't be worth it for a one time thing. Besides, most of my fantasies were about my wife being one of the two women. The other, as I'm sure you've figured out, was to make love to a beautiful black woman, a woman like Dee.
That's why I was scared of flirting with her, even more now than before. Because, if she made a real offer, and I thought she would, I might not be able to say no. And I couldn't take the chance that my weakness would end up destroying my marriage. So, when Dee cornered me a few days later, I decided to tell her the truth. Not the part about being too weak to resist her, I'm not that stupid. Just the part about not being able to flirt with her because I couldn't do it as just a game. I was really no different than any of the other guys and wanted to get into her pants just as much as they did. But, unlike them, I was married and not free to act on those desires. Flirting with her, and her flirting back, would only make those desires stronger. And, since I had no intention of acting on them, it was better not to torture myself that way.
She replied that what I'd just told her was the biggest reason I'd never be like those other guys, even if I did try to get her in bed. They pretended to be interested in her, when all they really wanted was a notch on their bed post, and they didn't care if they hurt her feelings afterwards. Whereas I pretended to be interested in fucking her, just to keep from hurting her feelings with the truth. When I said I didn't understand, she said that as sweet as my excuse had sounded, it was an obvious lie. Because, she knew I wouldn't flirt with those other girls, if I didn't have fantasies about having sex with them, whether I acted on them or not. So, to tell her I couldn't flirt with her, because I had fantasies about her too, didn't make any sense. That meant the truth was actually the opposite, that I couldn't flirt because I didn't have the fantasies I needed to do it. And while it hurt to know that, it was nice of me to try to make it hurt less with my little lie.
I probably should have left it alone, because I was sure she'd give up and stop tempting me now. But, after seeing how sad she was, I had to try and make her feel better. So I told her she was wrong, and that it was because I had a lot more fantasies about her, than about them, that made it dangerous. She echoed what I thought, by softly saying I should have quit at the one lie, instead of adding another one to it. When I tried to tell her it wasn't a lie, she asked me to prove it, by telling her one of them. I told her that if I was scared to even flirt with her, I sure couldn't tell her what fantasies I had about her, could I? She said that's why I should have quit while I was ahead. Because, if she didn't believe my excuse for not flirting, how did I expect her to believe this? If there's one thing in life that bothers me, it's people thinking I'm a liar. And whether Dee knew it or not, she'd backed me into a corner that I couldn't stay in. That's why I gave her the only answer I had guts enough to give. That she needed to listen to the song "Brown Sugar", and then she'd have her answer.
As obscure as my answer had been, it turned out to be more than enough for Dee. Except, rather than get her to stop, it had the opposite effect, and made her chase me even more. That's because when she listened to the song over the weekend, she understood exactly what my obsession with her was. And she didn't hesitate to use it against me, by inviting me to lunch on Monday, and hitting me with it as soon as we'd ordered. No sooner was the waitress out of earshot when she said that yes they were. Then when I asked what, she said that yes they were even darker than the rest of her body. She knew she didn't have to explain what she was talking about, because the song had told her too much. The only possible meaning that song could have, with asking why brown sugar tasted so good, was that I fantasized about eating her pussy. And the biggest reason for a white man to have that fantasy about a black girl was the color of the girl's pussy lips. So, she was confirming that hers were as black as they were in my fantasies.