I've had sex a number of times with black men, several of these in the company of my husband, who enjoys seeing and taking pictures of me sucking a monstrous black cock. I have a collection of favorite pictures and videos of women, mostly white or Asian, sucking black men with huge cocks. I will admit it's a fetish, but perhaps those of you who don't understand the attraction that white and Asian women have for black men need an explanation.
Someone once asked me why it was that so many white and Asian women fantasize about being fucked by black men. I can't say if I'm like others, but definitely it has to do with the taboos any young girl in America who is white or Asian learns without even being conscious of it. From the moment we're little, subtle and not-so-subtle hints and proscriptions are given to us about the "danger" of black men, and how they are sexually aggressive and we need to be careful or we will be "raped." Even the most sheltered girl (and perhaps even more so the more you are sheltered...), will begin when thinking about black men to feel the fear, and thus the excitement that comes with fear.
It's that physical, visceral sense of excitement and fear that is unconscious and uncontrollable which I think accounts for the sexual attraction. It's not just the breaking of taboos and transgressing social norms--the mundane and common source of so many sexual fantasies and fetishes. There is something extra powerful about the web of representations and images of black men as rapists and violent sexual monsters that leads to the excitement.
Is it racist? Utterly. And so any woman who has a conscience must question her own ethics in playing out her fantasies, but in other ways the primal nature of fear and excitement, its very irrationality, shifts sexuality into a different kind of existence from morality as a set of choices and commitments. And so how does one respond?
I respond by embracing the fear, embracing the fetish for black men as dangerous sexual beings. I want to be fucked by a black man. I want to suck his cock. And hopefully I do it well enough that whoever is on the receiving end enjoys it. And if a black man has a little Oriental flower fetish and fucks me that much harder because I represent a Geisha or massage parlor fantasy, then maybe we both get some pleasure at least out of these larger structures of fear and hate that I can't control. It's not very empowering, and perhaps even deluded, but pleasure is often fucked up...
Are we the only couple who likes to see videos of interracial sex between black men and Asian women? We can't be, because why would there be such a demand for these videos (there are so many!)?
One of our mutual fantasies is for my husband to be tied helpless in a chair while a tall black man with a cock the size of a small baseball bat fucks me in every way--choking me by shoving it down my throat, and alternating splitting me open by ramming it into my pussy and ass. We have a humongous black dildo (about 18 inches long and almost four inches wide) that we bought at a gay sex shop that we often use in our fantasy, and a number of favorite porn videos to watch to get us in the mood.
My favorite fantasy involves imagining myself as a young prostitute during the Vietnam War. I've created an elaborate back story for the character I inhabit, so that with little effort I am effortlessly her in variations of this fantasy.
I'm from the country, a small village that has been destroyed by the fighting, and I have gone with my family to Saigon in order to find work so we can survive. My father has been killed by the Vietcong and I need to support my mother and my two younger siblings. Being the oldest child, it is up to me to bring home money because my mother has been crippled by a booby trap. After weeks of looking for work to no avail, I am approached by a well dressed woman who sees me begging with my brother and sister and asks if I want to work. I eagerly say yes and she tells me to meet her there at dawn the next morning.
The next day I come back to the spot dressed as well as I can and cleaned and groomed. She meets me and takes me several blocks to a small doorway that leads into a room that is nicely decorated with Vietnamese art. In couches and chairs a dozen beautiful young Vietnamese women sit in their traditional long silk dresses.
They wear their hair down, so their tresses reach to their waists. They are chatting and laughing and the place seems happier than any home I have ever visited. One of the young girls, who looks no older than I am, stares at me until I look down at the floor, averting my gaze, ashamed at the poor peasant clothes I am wearing and aware that I am ugly in comparison to these women.
I am taken to the back and told that I will clean the floors and wash the girls clothes each day. I will be paid an advance for the week, but then will receive wages minus the food I eat and the cost of a new set of clothes that will replace the ugly ones I am wearing. I thank the woman profusely and begin work immediately.
Within hours, I realize that I am working at a brothel. Young soldiers, all of them black, come into the main room where the girls sit and after looking them over, they choose one and pay the mama-san, an older Vietnamese woman dressed in the same long silk dress as the girls. She tells the girl which room in the back to take the customer to, and hours later the man walks out by himself or chooses another girl and pays the mama-san again. Sometimes the black men choose and pay for two or even three girls, and they giggle as they accompany him to the back.
At first I am shocked and ashamed to be working in a house of ill repute, and I consider going home, but my family is desperate for money and I decide not to tell my mother where I am working, only to pass on my earnings to her and pretend that I am working as a maid in a house.