Written with love by Jungle Fever Cougar
I grew up in a small town of about 3500 white people. We had two black kids in school,both adopted by white families. So, I wasn’t really aware of anything else. Myfamily wasn’t racist by any means. It just wasn’t around us. My hometown was1/3 Polish, 1/3 Italian, and 1/3 Irish. The Italians seemed dark to us.
When I was 6, I was taking art classes in the nearest city. Driving there one morning, we were at a red light and I glanced at the man on the corner. Then I stared. I had never seen anything like him: Tall, muscular, and the darkest person I had ever seen in my life. I was fascinated. I wanted to go up and touch him to see if he was real. Mom said to stop staring because it was rude. I stopped staring…for a few moments. I’ve spent the last 35 years of my life staring at those gorgeous, black men.
I had a black boyfriend in high school. He was from another town. I took him to the Homecoming dance one year. That garnered a lot of attention, since he was pretty much the only person of color there. It was fun, but some kids had mean things to say. We just ignored it.
My first real, down and dirty lover came many years later. I was in my late 20s andliving in a town where professional athletes trained. At the club one night,one of them started to flirt with me. I was wasted, but at that moment, I was in love. He was well over 6 feet tall, with legs as big as my waist. And one of the darkest men I had ever seen in my life. I took him home that night. That was the beginning of my love of black men.
They’re different. There’s a passion that they have about what they do. The deep smoothness of their voices. Self-confidence. Swagger. No, they don’t all have monster cocks, but most of them do. They’ll say whatever is on their mind. And they appreciate a woman with some attitude & curves. Mainly, they appreciate me. I can’t go anywhere without at least 2 of them coming up to talk to me or hit on me. “Like moths to a flame,” one of the guys told me. I had to ask him why they loved me so. That’s all he could say.
Since that night, I’ve had a few dozen black lovers. There have been some others mixed in,but my lust for that dark, smooth skin has never died out.
I like seeing our skin tones match and clash at the same time. The brilliance of white against deep mahogany fascinates me. The super dark nipples. Full, soft lips.Hair that’s different from one man to another. The tight, black curls leadingdown their stomachs. The way their fingernails are so much lighter than theirfingers. The darkness of their bodies just feels…warmer than a light-skinnedperson. A black man’s ass always looks better.
I’ve dated the most ghetto black guys you’ve ever seen. I’ve banged athletes from almost every professional sport out there. And each and every one of them loved my big tits and non-white girl ass. Every one of them doled out more compliments than I’ve ever heard in my life. Whether it was a 15-minute affair or lasted for over a year, I loved every single one of them during the time we spent together. Their beauty made my eyes water.
No matter where I go, the black men will always be the first to catch my eye. Of course,I’m first to catch theirs.