David finished his PhD in Biochemical Engineering at the age of twenty-four. Soon afterward, he landed a fantastic job with a major biochemical research firm. For David, the opportunity was in the "fantastic" category because it would allow him to use the laboratory facilities for his own research, on condition that he met the goals set for him by his employer first, and on schedule. His starting salary was $200k base, per year, with stock and bonus incentives. He was on the road to success. The only problem, a hole in his life, was that he did not have a girlfriend, and he wanted one, more than anything. He had a preference though, one that made it more difficult for him to find his dream girl, and hopefully to have her want him as much as he wanted her. David just really, really wanted a black girlfriend.
He first realized his preference in high school, but there were exactly zero black girls attending his school, so he had no opportunity to meet and learn about them until he began college. In college, he approached a few black girls, to try to meet and make friends, with a hope that maybe it could become something more. Some were in his classes and some he just encountered on campus due to similar schedules. He would see a pretty black girl in the dining hall at a certain time, and he would try to be there at the same time on future days, hoping for a chance to engage with her. "It" just never happened - they either made it clear quickly that they were not interested, or they were already "taken". He couldn't count how many times after some brief conversation with a black girl, she would start mentioning her boyfriend - "words of doom" for him when he heard them.
"Well, it was nice meeting you," each would echo, and that was that.
Some of the nicer ones would smile or wave when he saw them again, but it was not the signal a girl would send if she were interested in a boy - it all just added up to more disappointment for him.
David did have a few brief relationships during his college years, with white girls. Each was nice in her own way - one had a prettier face, one had a brighter mind, one became very serious about him very quickly. He broke off with each after a short time because he just did not feel "that special magic" with them. He was a decent young man - he did not want to hurt them, or anyone. He did not want to lead any of them to believe that he felt more for them than he did. He tried to tell himself to stop wishing for something that he could probably never have, and get on with his life, but then he would see a stunning black girl, or worse, a couple - white boy and black girl, and it was like a knife to his soul. "Why couldn't that be him?"
David tried to analyze what it was that made him desire a black girl so much more so than any other kind of girl. Was it their beautiful deep brown skin color? Was it the dark eyes which could see into your soul? Was it the contrast of jet black hair and brows against already dark skin? Was it the crossing of social boundaries - an interracial love which flaunted itself in the face of those who found such a thing scandalous? Why was he so drawn to black girls specifically? He could not point to any one thing. He found their lush full lips intoxicating. He longed to brush his fingertips gently along the angles of a black girl's face, to feel the texture of her hair. Then, he would berate himself for focusing on physical things - "people are more than just a collection of their physical traits," he told himself in his thoughts. In the end though, the soul wants what it wants. David had decided that if he could be with a black girl before he died, he could die happy.
In the absence of a girlfriend, David turned to occasional porn, for relief and release. Inevitably he would end up searching for porn which featured white men and black women. He wished more than anything that he could be the one thrusting deep inside a black girl's vagina while she wrapped her dark brown legs around his waist and clawed at his back with her long glamorous fingernails. It kept him sane at least.
Physically, David was a handsome young man, average in almost every way:
Height 5'10"
Weight 170 lbs.
Hair, dark brown, cut short
Eyes, gray with brown speckles
He was athletic, and enjoyed swimming, bike riding, and jogging. He kept himself in good shape, but he had never been a "jock". He never really bothered with football, basketball, or baseball, and he did not care much for watching sports, except for the Olympics, and some women's sports - because he enjoyed watching the women.
David had been working at his new job for a few months now. Today, after work, he had an appointment at the salon where he got his hair cut. He went to a salon because he liked the environment, and if he were being completely honest, he much preferred having a woman cut his hair as opposed to some gruff old barber.
When David arrived at the salon to check in, the receptionist informed him that his usual stylist, Claire, had a last minute emergency and that she had to leave, but, a substitute stylist could take care of him today.
"Will that be ok? She's actually the owner's daughter - she does good work," the receptionist informed him.
"Um, sure," David replied.
"Alright, please have a seat. Camille will be with you shortly," the receptionist said.
