I don't know any women who don't want a whole lot of sex. I used to know one, but now she wants it all the time too. The men I know are not satisfied by lackluster sexual contact. They may accept it on occasion, but they do complain about partners who are not good lovers. I get that your experiences have not borne out like mine, but you should definitely not make statements that presume experiences like mine and the people who talk about sex with me are nonexistent or impossible.
The only thing worse than a racist is a fucking liar. And YOU are a fucking liar!
This is exotification, you filthy, racist, fuckwit.
My post above explains a lot to this post but, I am always impressed when racism becomes a part of any of this.
When we went to visit a friend in Baltimore, I was surprised by all the black guy/white guy talk. It seemed very out of place to me. I told them in Colorado we only hate one type of people, blue people. We don't like smurfs. I was trying to be funny, but these people in Baltimore do really talk like that. they say I have this black friend or this white friend. And I asked them why they can't just say this friend, without having to add black or white, and they didn't have an answer.
I grew up in the sixties in Los Angeles. I was "the" white boy in my neighborhood. If anyone had a reason to grow up racist, it would have been me but, I'm not racist.
My wife's favorite lover happens to be black but, that is not why he is her favorite. He is her favorite because she likes him. The first time we met him was when we posted a Craigslist ad and he came to our house. After he and my wife made love, we found out that his sister used to work with my wife. That was the real connection.
The fact that he was a really good lover had a lot to do with it as well.
Roger is black, but he is our friend and my wife's favorite lover. We have had his family over for Bar-b-ques, we've gone to the mountains, us and his family. There's more to it than his skin color.
I have never understood racism. People are people, and some people are better than other people. We have all known people that are not good people, and we have all known people that are good people. Color really doesn't make a difference whether a person is good or bad. What makes them good or bad is their actions, not the color of their skin.
The black men that my wife enjoys having sex with, a lot, are really great guys, that just happen to be black. Tom, one of our Sunday morning regulars is white, and there have been several times that my wife wanted him over. Why? because she enjoys being with him, and that he is very well sized.
Tom calls a lot to see how we are doing and has even come over just to chill. My wife loves sex with Tom, as much as she does with other men, but sometimes she wants him. He's white. Does that make her a racist because sometimes she prefers Tom over the black guys we could have over?
This racism thing is old. When I was growing up, the guys that I had the most trouble with, at school, were white kids. And the one time I got chased home by the crips, when they were still too young to drive, it was a pimp, a black man, that saved me from getting beat up. When I yelled for help, it was a black man that helped me, not any of the white people who watched me getting chased by a group of black kids.
When I would go out and play, my mom would go to the "working girls", most of whom were black, and they were the ones that often knew where I was and watched out for me. And these are the women that most of society sees as the scum of humanity. The pimp that saved my ass the day I was chased home by the crips was the type of guy most people wouldn't give the time of day to. And I looked up to him.
Being white, growing up in a predominantly black neighborhood could have been tough for me, but it wasn't. Yet most of the people that I knew and trusted weren't the type of people that most other people would have anything to do with. The people I grew up trusting , and who watched out for me, were black. Yes, they were black and I was white, but they didn't see me as white and I didn't see them as black. They saw me as this cool kid and I looked up to them because they were the people that looked out for me.
I got surrounded in high school by a bunch of white guys, who were going to beat my ass, and it was a black friend of mine that stepped in. None of my white friends did anything to help me. I went through a lot because I didn't see the color of anyone's skin. I saw who they were. I went to high school in a predominantly white school. So, the fact that I was friends with the black kids made me an outsider.
I have seen racism at it's worst. I have seen people shot on the street because of their color or race. I was talking to a Mexican friend one day, from across the street and a car drove by. The next thing I know he is laying on his porch with three bullets in his chest. I have also been the one to walk into the boys bathroom in high school\, and taken on 6 white guys who were about to rape a black girl. Does that sound racist?
You call me a LIAR but, you don't even know me. You may never have even grown up and witnessed real racism. I don't know. What I do know is that I have witnessed and seen racism at it's worst. When the crips were chasing me home that day, and the pimp pulled up and asked them why they wanted to beat me up, they told him, "Because he has red hair. And he don't belong here."
Try growing up white in Los Angeles, in the sixties, then you and I can talk about racism. Ever heard of the Watts riots? I was there. I was taken by two black men who were going to kill me, because I was white. I was 2 years old, and these two black men were going to kill me because I was white. I was 2 years old and had never done anything to anyone. Want to talk about racism?
I was walking home from grade school, with a black friend. We were two blocks from home, and I heard shots. The next thing I knew my friend was on the ground, dead. The guy in the car, that shot my friend, told me that I should thank him for doing what he did. I was smart enough to get his license plate number and told he police. Luckily the shooter went to jail, but that didn't bring back my friend. Why was he my friend? Because he was black? No. He was my friend because we got along well and played together often.
I'm racist? A liar?
Just like with most other things, those who have never had any involvement are the ones most passionate about what they
think they know. And too often, like most things, the people who have never experienced something are usually the ones that say it could never happen.
All I can say now, or have ever been able to say, is, "Wow!" and shake my head.
