Everybody has their own reasons for doing what they do. I've done what I felt was best for me and my family,which has been to keep my sex life secret from all but my hubby. In situations,away from family,where I can be free and open,I'm a very different person from the one they know.
I'm aware that my hubby's tempted to roll his eyes whenever I use the word,destiny,to describe how I feel about my being a whore,or more specifically a whore for black men. I'm sure others see me differently than I see myself sometimes,and that's OK. I can understand how the way my sex life and my involvement with black men has evolved can fit into certain stereotypical explanations and cliches. "Once they go black" is the first one that comes to mind. I won't argue that it hasn't proven to be true for me,but the way it happened,or my thoughts and feelings along the way have never really been inline with opinions I've heard and read expressed by others.
I think I liked sex,and the idea of having sex more than most of my friends during puberty. I had the same romantic fantasies as other girls,but the basic act of sex,the physical boy/girl coupling had a huge appeal for me,as did the idea of experiencing it with a variety of boys. I don't know why. That's just the way it was for me. That's how I thought as early as when I was 12 or 13 years old. I usually wasn't forthcoming with my feelings about it,because I knew it wasn't consistent with how most of my friends thought.
By the time I was in my late teens,I had real difficulty keeping any sort of relationship together. I had a rebellious attitude about it,and had decided that I was willing to accept the "whore" moniker,and whatever negatives came with it.
I was particularly disgruntled about the breakup with my most recent boyfriend on the day I met my hubby,and he got an earful,simply because he happened to be there and willing to listen. Destiny?
As it happened,he was wired differently than any of my previous boyfriends,and actually saw some of my traits that had caused problems with them as positives. He told me straight out that he liked "bad girl" types. Really? Hmm....
I know he told his side of our story at the beginning of this thread,so I won't repeat the whole thing. I'm just saying that I'm open to the concept of destiny. Saying I believe in destiny might be going too far,but some things are hard to explain any other way.
He described our first year or so together,so I won't repeat that whole thing either,except to say that we got along really good. It was a rare occasion if we were serious about anything,except having fun. It's not much of an exaggeration to say that swinging was "in vogue" at that time,at least in the military. I fell right into the "hot wife" role without hesitation,and it was working just fine from my perspective.
Then,my hubby decided he wanted to be a hero,and everything got iffy and difficult. I ended up in an off-post apartment in Georgia,alone. I wasn't quite 20 years old,and hundreds of miles from anything or anybody familiar to me. My only transportation was a Mustang that only my hubby understood,or could drive. The motor died every time I stopped,and I couldn't get going again with out jerking the whole car and making the tires squeal. I was virtually stranded as soon as he was gone. There was a store within walking distance,so I wouldn't starve,but I was still scared and not happy. I was trying to keep as good of an attitude as I could,but I really didn't think I was going to be able to stay there for the entire time he was in training. I certainly didn't expect that he would still be away most of the time after his training was done. If I had known that,I doubt if I would've been willing to try.
I had been so busy concentrating on everything that had to get done prior to,and during our relocation that I hadn't really thought about sex as much as usual. I was used to getting a lot of sex,both with my hubby and a number of friends. There was kind of an "Oh *******" moment for me a few days after my hubby left,after everything was put away,and the apartment was tidy. My hubby claims that I already had my eyes on Victor while he was helping us unload everything and move into the apartment,and maybe I did,but the realization that he was my only possible source of sex set me on a mission to seduce him. A girl's gotta do what she has to do to look out for herself,and her needs.
The fact that Victor was black honestly wasn't significant in my thought process. The same goes with his roommate,Curt,when he showed up. They were black men. So?
The experience with Victor took me to an entirely different,and even higher level of appreciation for the pleasures of sex than I already had,and shame me for being slow to catch on,but I still didn't attribute it to his being a black man.
Then,Curt. It didn't take long for me to realize that he was a total sex fiend,and that he shared some personality traits with my hubby,a plus for both of them from my vantage point. They both appreciated me in ways that other men hadn't. Alright!
It was sometime later,a few weeks,maybe a couple of months after Victor left and Curt began introducing me to more and more friends that I really thought about the interracial aspect of what was happening. Victor and Curt both being black men,I assume that I expected many of their friends to be black. In retrospect,knowing what I know now,and what anybody reading this almost certainly thinks,it should've been obvious to me what was happening. Think what you will,but it wasn't. It took some time for me to realize the situation for what it was,and that there was something significant in the fact that I was one white girl in the midst of a growing group of black guys. When I finally did think about it from that point of view,it became a super turn-on! My confidence level was quickly improving,thanks to Curt's coaching,and that feeling of being "special",which is how most of the guys treated me,gave me yet another boost.
My situation in Georgia in the beginning,compared to what it became,was like daylight verses dark,and the interracial aspect of it was a contributing factor in the change for me.
I never made a decision to become involved in black/white sex. It just happened as a result of living my life,like almost everything else. I'm familiar with all the cliches,and many or most of them fit. I use some of the common terms myself. That's how I was "broke in",and I'm not sure if there's a better way to say it. I went black,and I kept an open mind about trying other things for a year or two,even sex with women,but I settled on black men. It just clicks for me with black men. It always did. I'm not sure how I'm different from other women who are involved in black/white sex. Maybe not as much as I think sometimes,but I feel different,based on most of what I read and hear.
