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A Case History of a

 Carefully Staged and

Revealing Black-on-White

 Extramarital Affair

Part I 

" I guess you know, doing something like that -- I mean we ended up doing it all -- has a way of removing whatever social pedestal you think you're on -- at least whatever one I thought I was on."

 

        It should be noted that "Laura" wasn't being seen in any professional capacity. Like many subjects in these case histories she shared her story as part of the research for a book. In order to understand the analysis at the end of this section we'll need to include specific details about the events that transpired.

In the context of this case history it should be noted at the outset that some women have sought to broaden their sexual experience (and bragging rights) by having an affair with a so-called "black stud" or "black stallion" -- especially considering the folklore surrounding black males. (Right here we'll make the needed apologies for the racial stereotypes, but these stereotypes are important in understanding the dynamics of what follows.)

 As we will see toward the end of this case history, there are some unusually strong underlying factors that can explain the behaviors of the three primary people involved.

        Laura encouraged her husband (who is also white) to make it clear to a young black executive with whom she worked -- we'll call him "Bill" -- that she would be willing to spend a weekend with him in his mountain cabin.

Although Laura said she wanted to set up a situation in which she would be forced to confront some of her deepest fears and reservations, her motivations went beyond this.

Plus, the fact that her husband condoned, even encouraged, the affair clearly introduces motivation from his perspective.

With Laura we are dealing with a woman who grew up in a family steeped in old, deep-south values with respect to blacks.

 Although most women would not elect such an approach in working through fears and prejudices, Laura said she needed to confront this issue in a direct, courageous, and "no way out" manner.

 In our conversation she alluded to a TV program where people are forced to confront their deepest fears.    

        Laura had heard from coworkers about Bill's one-bed mountain cabin, and by suggesting the weekend alone with him, she knew that she would be making it clear she was agreeing to sleep with him.

Plus, she had talked her husband into meeting Bill and setting it up -- including bringing up the issue of sex and assuring Bill that they were both okay with it.

Laura said to me, "...I'll admit that many times before I got into Bill's car to leave for the weekend I came close to changing my mind. But, I had intentionally set things up to make that very difficult."

 

The Possible Influence of A Husband

         It seems evident that Laura's husband was motivated in part by a rather deep level of resentment -- even anger -- over how both Laura and her parents tended to flaunt their Southern, upper-class background.

The role of Laura's husband in this case is quite significant. Agreeing to set up this weekend for Laura involved much more than "letting her do her thing."

Even though for most husbands this kind of thing would be appalling, for some it's a turn-on to fantasize about their wives in bed with a strong, virile black man -- the typical black-on-white sexual scenario. The Internet, of course, is full of this imagery.

For these husbands there appears to be a bit of the "Taming of the Shrew" element involved, but in this case the husband invites an uninvolved and more powerful male to do the "taming" (as long as the husband ultimately retains control).

Since Laura was fair-skinned and blond, and Bill was muscular and dark-skinned, this visual fantasy seems to be supported.

        But there was an even more important dimension to the scenario. Although petite, Laura tended to "wear the pants" in the marriage. This threw the marriage out of balance.

However, putting Laura in a situation where she would forfeit her "white aristocracy" role provided an incentive for her husband to condone -- even encourage -- the tryst.

 Once she had given herself to a black man for two days, could she ever again claim some Southern cultural high ground?    

        My conversation with Laura revealed some additional dimensions to her motivations.

...When we first got to the cabin it was early evening and [Bill and I] just talked about a lot of things, as awkward as that was.

As the evening went on, I guess he could tell I was scared and stalling. I think he saw my fear and prejudice coming through. But, after a while, when I realized that he really wasn't out to rape and strangle me, I relaxed and got to the point of needing to prove that I didn't fear him.

Finally, when it was getting really late, he said that it had been a long day and that possibly we could take a shower together. He went first, and after a long hesitation, and more wine I joined him, and then one thing led to another.

When we got into bed, and the lights were out, I just sort of let him take over. I guess that first time I was pretty scared, but I had decided to do this, so I just let it happen.

...Considering my upbringing and all, I felt that something major was about to happen.

On the other hand, I had really built this up in my mind, [and] the sex, itself, didn't seem to be the traumatic thing that I thought it would be. ...After all my fears and all, it was kind of like a personal victory.

Since I'd had more than a bit of wine, I fell asleep pretty fast. It was an easy start, but for sure we were just getting started.    

        Curious about her husband's attitude in this, I asked Laura how her husband approached Bill about the weekend. Laura shrugged.

At work I just told Bill that my husband wanted to talk to him about something. They met at a nearby coffee place. He just told Bill that I wanted to spend the weekend with him at his mountain place, and he was okay with him.

That seemed far too easy, so I asked if it was hard for her husband to offer her to someone else.

Oh. Well [my husband and I] had been talking about it for a long time, so we had already been through all that; I mean, it was decided.  At that point it was Bill that hesitated.

...I need to tell you that for a long time at work when Bill would look at me at work I'd sort of had the feeling that he was fantasizing about me.

I made the mistake of mentioning it to someone, and then some of the women started teasing me about being scared to get too close to Bill, saying such things as "I guess it would take an awful lot of woman to handle him," meaning I guess that I couldn't.

 " One of the black women at work jokingly said, 'He's too much man for a little white girl like you to handle.' "

 

            She was sort of kidding me, but everyone laughed. I got really embarrassed about it, and then I couldn't bring myself to even talk to Bill.

So when my husband told Bill that I would spend the weekend with him, Bill thought it had to be a cruel joke.

I don't know what all my husband said, but I later found out from Bill that my husband started grilling him on whether he was "clean" [free of STD].

Bill assured [my husband] repeatedly that he was; but, even so, Bill said he always used protection. After my husband was convinced there wasn't any risk of a disease, he said, 'No, if you're sure about that, she's on the pill -- and I know she' doesn't have anything -- so I think she would prefer that you didn't use anything.

I guess Bill wasn't at all sure about any of this, so finally he asked point blank. "You're offering me Laura for the weekend where we'd be sleeping in the same bed, and you are both totally okay with that?"

My husband said, "Yes, but if anything bad happens to Laura, I guess you know you are a dead man!' I guess that was my husband's way of hanging onto some kind of macho role, but it also made Bill feel that this whole thing wasn't a joke.

Bill later told me all about the conversation. ...He said my husband went on to talk about personal stuff -- things I liked and didn't like, even down to my favorite wine, no less! I think he must have also told him some other things about me that I didn't hear about.    

        I asked Laura how she felt when she first found out that Bill had agreed to the weekend. 

Well, I had found out a bit about Bill, of course, that he's considered a bit of a stud, but an okay guy and all, but I was still pretty scared. I mean, I couldn't believe that I had offered myself to him -- a guy I had hardly spoken to -- for two days and two nights! Talk about insane! Plus, I kept thinking of my father. If he knew, he would have tried to have me committed!"    

        But how did you feel inside about it?  She answered quickly.

Scared! Very! Actually, fear mixed with a kind of excitement, I guess; sort of like jumping out of an airplane the first time. But, I had just decided I was going to do this....regardless.

" I guess you know, doing something like that -- I mean we ended up doing it all -- has a way of removing whatever social pedestal you think you're on -- at least whatever one I thought I was on.... "

 

I'm amazed that I could do it...that I actually did do it. ...In bed at night we were just...two people having sex...and then sleeping next to each other to keep warm....

...Pretty simple human stuff, really, but stuff my family would totally freak out about if they knew.... That kind of hubbub seems a bit silly now....     

        How would you feel if people found out, especially where you work?

...Oh, God, was I worried!  Totally paranoid during the whole time I was planning it. I thought if people found out it would probably mean I would have to quit my job and we'd have to move to another state or something.

         ...[After that meeting with my husband] Bill pulled me aside at work and said, "I talked to [your husband], but I want to make sure that you're really okay with this."

 I couldn't look at him.  As I remember I swallowed hard and said I was, but I didn't want anyone to know.

        ...The next morning [in the cabin] it really hit me. We were in bed together and the cabin was bright, and I had a bit of a hangover from the wine.

He was on top of me, and I remember looking down and studying the difference in our skin. I couldn't look at him. I was just staring down as we were moving together and was sort of transfixed at the contrast in our bodies.

I kept thinking about how this man was in me without a condom or anything and that I would soon be filled with his sperm.

I remember too thinking how different it felt with him. ...It had been a long time since I had known anybody except my husband, and this definitely felt different.

He was very strong and he was going very deep. He was also much bigger than my husband. I was appalled by what I was doing. But at that point it was a little late to change my mind.

I was trying to sort it all out when he noticed that I wasn't exactly into the moment and he stopped and he asked if I was okay. Without looking at him, I said, Yes, it's okay."

I guess I was saying that to both him and me. Then he wanted to know if he was hurting me. I guess I had a pained look or something. I said. "It hurts a little, but I'll get used to you."

It was then that I think that I really looked at him for the first time. I realized that with him, as big and powerful as he was, it wasn't just sex. He had totally stopped and wanted to make sure everything was okay with me.

He had a concerned look, and he was just staring at me, so I said, "Don't worry, I'm okay with this."

At first it felt very strange, but he was stimulating inside parts of me in a way that I hadn't felt before. Once I let go of my apprehension and got into that feeling, things changed.

I guess he could read my face and he wanted to know if it felt good. What could I say other than 'yes.'  He liked me to keep assuring him that I liked it, so I did.

It was like he was worried about his performance, or that I was turned off about him being black.

After a while, we found ourselves really looking at each other and getting into what was happening. Two very unlikely people were engaged in the most intimate act possible. Not only that, but I had initiated it.

I remember one time when I was on the bed with him on top of me, looking at how different our bodies were and thinking that he would be coming inside of me, suddenly I felt myself starting  to cum.

At that moment all my barriers fell and I started to initiate vigorous sex. I would have never done this with my husband, but with this man I could get into whatever I felt.

But before he came, I did, and I didn't try to hide it  I could tell he saw that as a major victory, like now I was his.

Of course, I knew that although I gave up control, for a while, it was no such thing -- I was still very much in charge of myself.

 ...It took a while the next time, but when he came, it was with a lot of force, and I remember when he did, he held me with such a grip that I could hardly breathe.

During those moments it was like I was totally taken over... and it gave me a weird feeling to just let go and let it happen. It was a turn-on just surrendering and letting him cum in me.

        Afterwards, he made breakfast, and I was sitting there thinking how I was full of his live sperm. I didn't want to wash it out. I didn't want him to think that I would right away want to do that.

It was strange thinking that I was keeping a part of this man inside of me. My making that decision sort of represented another kind of fear that I was overcoming.

I tried to become relaxed with the idea. I was full of his sperm, and in a strange way that both scared and excited me.

...Finally, I ask if I was his first white woman. He said "yes." And I asked him if it was all that different. He thought about it and said, "Well, you don't seem to be too relaxed about things.'" I remember those were his exact words.

I guess it was right then that I decided that I was not going to let him take that memory away from the weekend.

Maybe I was representing all white women or something. So I said, "You have me for two more days." I remember I had sort of a strange feeling saying that. I was clearly giving myself to him, and for me it was like an unconditional surrender.

"...He said, "What do you want to do?"

With a bit of resolve, and not knowing how to answer, I said, 'Whatever you want.''

I remember he sort of scoffed at that, and that hurt too. I remember just looking at him and saying, 'Just try me.'"

 

            He said, "Well, so far it's been pretty basic, you know, and there's a lot of other stuff..... You are not going to suddenly change your mind about this and want to go home, are you?"

"Like I said, you have me for two more days."

He sort of looked at me to see is I was really serious about what I had said, and then he said something like, "We'll, I guess we'll see."

...That was definitely a challenge, and, frankly, it scared me. But I was determined to convince him that this little white girl could do it all with him, or die trying.

...He had a mirror on the wall at the end of the bed and I would often watch when we we had sex.  Seeing the differences in our bodies while I felt him moving in me made it very real and especially risqué.   

..One of the things he wanted to try with me was anal sex, and I had never done that with anyone before. I guess he figured that would be where I would call a halt to things. I didn't. Fact is, I always wondered what it would be like. ...It hurt, really hurt, and I think he knew it, but I was determined not to chicken out... 

        ..By the time we got ready to leave for home on Sunday afternoon, and despite the aspirin, it hurt like hell to sit down. I don't know how many times we had sex, but a lot. But, I hadn't resisted anything he wanted to do, and I knew I had worn him out.

Just as we were leaving, I was feeling kind of high for getting through it without ever saying I wouldn't do something.

I had been thinking about this weekend for a very long time, and now that it was over I was feeling a real victory.

And as we were going out the door, I stopped and looked right at him and asked, "You sure you don't want to fuck me one more time?"

We both knew it wasn't going to happen, but it was kind of like a moment of victory that I could come right out and boldly offer myself to a black man like that.

I guess he knew what was going on -- like I was really enjoying the moment -- so he just said it was getting late and it was a long drive.

But I couldn't let it drop; I looked right at him and asked, "What's the matter, did the little white girl wear you out?

Then he put his hand under my blouse and on my breast and checked my expression. I guess he thought I would pull back, or something, but I didn't. I just looked right at him, like, you don't scare me any more.    

        At that moment I felt different about myself, like I was now as sexually brave and experienced as any woman, and I could do it again if I wanted to.

I fell asleep as soon as we got in the car, and didn't wake up until he pulled into a restaurant for coffee.

While we were sitting at a booth with our coffee and people all around he asked me what I liked most about the weekend.

We were a long way away from the cabin and I was feeling proud of myself at this point, I looked right at him and said, "Feeling you cum in me, really deep like you do do."

He looked shocked and quickly looked around to see if anyone heard, which they must have since I said it right out.

Granted, it was a daring thing for a young, blond woman to say to a black man in a crowded restaurant, but, coming on the heels of my weekend victory I was, as they say, feeling my oats.

I guess he thought that this woman was getting out of control and he abruptly ended the conversation.

Strangely, I felt proud of myself for coming right out "in front of the world" and admitting we had sex. It was like another victory. Of course, I also helped that I knew we would never see any of these people again. 

When I got home, my husband looked really relieved to see me. I guess had been pretty worried. He looked me over and said, "It looks like you've been pretty well used. So did you do it all?"

"Whatever he wanted."

I guess that was the first thing he wanted to know, and looking at me, I guess he figured I did. Then he went back to the kitchen where he was fixing dinner.

There was a lot of silence during dinner, but at one point he asked, "Was there oral sex?"

"He liked to watch me do that."

"And you didn't mind?"

"I minded....a lot, especially at first....but I was committed to not chicken out on anything, and after a while it got easier.

He had me do that a lot to get him ready for sex. It kind of gave me power, so I kind of got into it after a while and he said I got very good at it.

 My husband thought about everything for a long time. I could tell he was really struggling with the image of all this. Finally, he asked, "So how does it feel being a little blond sex slave for a black man."

I guess I bristled. "I wasn't exactly a sex slave."

"You said you did his bidding? Everything he wanted!  Isn't that what slaves do?" [The significance of this statement will become more apparent in the analysis/discussion at the end.]

...My husband calling me a little blond sex slave brought back those moments in the cabin. At one point late at night when we were both a bit tipsy, Bill asked me, "Why are you doing this?" 

Avoiding the real reason, I looked right at him and said, "To offer myself to use for your pleasure." 

It was the most radical thing I could say, but to come out and say something like that was kind of, I don't know, exciting.


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