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Dj Tech4

Originally written by Susan Crain Bakos for NY Press


Black skin is thick and lush, sensuous to the touch, like satin and
velvet made flesh. There’s only one patch of skin on a white man’s body that remotely compares to
nearly every inch of a black man’s skin. The first time I caressed black skin, it felt like a luxury
I shouldn’t be able to afford. I craved it more strongly than Carrie Bradshaw craved Manolo Blahnik
shoes. That phrase, “Once you go black, you never go back” is all about the feeling of the skin.

And I had the socially acceptable explanation for my craving. I used
that paucity-of-available-white-partners rationale to explain my relationships with black
men for several years. A white woman past forty is often passed over by her white-male contemporaries.
She goes younger or ethnic or foreign-born or down the socioeconomic scale or darker or she spends
lonely nights at home with her cats. Black men are happy to get the babe they couldn’t have when she
was twentysomething and fertile. The laws of the marketplace do prevail. It’s not me, it’s themthem
being the white guys who weren’t after me anymore, or so I claimed.

That’s a lie. The truth is, I attract about the same percentage of available
white men my age (and far younger!) now as I did when I was thirtyand that’s not including
the unavailable white men who want to play around anyway.

Enough white men want me that I was hardly facing enforced celibacy,
but I don’t want them.”

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