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[irfunseeker]

You started out differently but this how my interracial obsessions came to be.

Some Freudians would argue that one’s sexuality is developed through the relationship between the child and opposite sex parent. During the 1960’s, we lived in a small rural town in the Midwest. For those of you who remember, the 60’s were the years of “cultural revolution” in our country, where the third wave of feminism and the civil rights movement were in full swing. I will spare the details of all I remember during this era.

I was second oldest of 4 boys. Our family was solid blue collar working class. I did not possess the mechanical aptitude of my brothers and was not held in as high esteem as my 3 brothers were in my father’s eyes. My inclinations were much more academic and I excelled in school even though doing well in school was not a priority in my family.

My mother really enjoyed reading and studying. She took several home correspondence courses. I remember staying up late with her studying my homework while she did hers. It was during these late nights that my mother started to have conversations with me that involved more than just what we were studying. She started to divulge to me intimate secrets about her, my father, and her lovers. I was 9 years old when she started sharing her indiscretions with me, and I was about 12 when she quit using me as her confidant. Living in a small town I suspect she could confide in no one else. But there is no doubt that the experience laid the foundation for my general mistrust of women and some oddball kind of cuckoldry. I am definitely not a subservient or sissy cuckold.

I remember mother telling me about having several affairs with men including one black man. Looking back her revelation of being with a black man, her describing to me his size and thickness as hurting her, did not leave a real mark on me. It was an event years later about her being with a black man that did make me become obsessed with black men and white women.

My mother and father separated when I was 10. My dad had discovered that my mom was cheating on him and he filed for divorce. My mother remarried when I was 13 to a man who turned out to be an abusive alcoholic. A couple years into the marriage he woke all of my brothers and I up at about 3 AM and proceeded to yell at us how worthless a piece of shit whore our mother was and worst of all she was a n****r loving whore. We were terrified and speechless and filled with rage against this man but powerless to do anything about it. So there we sat on that couch collectively silent and all I remember my mom saying to this prick was “see I told you they would not be upset.”

But I was upset. It was not long after this event that a couple of high school buddies and I decided to go to an adult bookstore that had peep shows in it. I remember we were looking at magazines and making fun of all the various sex toys. I remember the smell – very heavy chlorine bleach. We decided to split up and go view some peep shows. The first booth I went into required you to close the door and put a quarter in to the coin box and then the projector came on and I saw two women getting it on and thought that was hot. I moved to the next booth and saw a woman with a dog and thought that a little over the top for me. The next booth was the last booth I entered because I saw two black men with a white woman. They were pulling a train on her. The old machines required you to continuously feed quarters into them in order to keep running so I plopped in several more quarters until I saw the whole show which ended with both black guys cumming in the girl and close up shots of the cum oozing out of her pussy. I came, without even touching myself at the closing scenes and from that moment on have been hooked on the fantasy of watching white girls fucking black men.

Like some other white men who might read this I felt shame and disgust at myself for being so indescribably turned on by this scenario. I have spent countless hours in therapy trying to change this about me but to no avail. I have spent even more hours and money trying to fulfill this fantasy which I will write more about later.

I remember once hearing a psychologist talk about how the psyche returns to traumatic events much like how one will return to a wound and pick at it until it becomes a scare. I wear my scare indifferently now, and accept interracial fantasy as just part, albeit a major one, of my sexuality.

[irfunseeker]

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