intfan
Male
I have been obsessed with interracial love between White Women and Black Men for twenty plus years now. I have gone through phases where I purged my entire IR erotic collection and renouncing such a “fetish” only to come back to it and become even more obsessed and enamored with the concept and idea of White Women who “go Black”. I now keep all of my favorite images of IR on my own personal on Tumblr (link here) as it is much easier than keeping track of a large IR collection stored on my hard drive.
I believe the roots or the seed of my obsession could be traced all the way back to my first interracial sighting. It was all about a girl in college, in rural Canada where I lived at the time. The girl had lovely red curly hair, green eyes with an ample bosom and wide breeding hips accentuated by a relatively narrow waist. Her personality was hyper-feminine, bubbly and radiant. She was a Goddess that I admired from afar, never having the courage to even go near her for so long. When we are smitten and deeply infatuated, the object of our affection becomes The Most Beautiful Girl In The World.
Three years later, in my final year of college I began to make small talk with her. What a thrill! Once I had taken these small steps, I began to write sonnets about her beauty and my undying love. There was a social dance coming up and I had broached the subject by asking her in a rather timid and off-handed away if she was going. She answered in the affirmative and I said “I will see you there!”. Finally, my dream of being with my Dream Girl was coming true.
So when I see her at the dance, she is sitting with female friends and we just make the usual chit chat. As soon as a song comes up that I think would be suitable, I ask “would you like to dance?” She looks incredulous and right past me and sees a good looking Black guy walking towards where we are sitting. She lights up, smiles and they hug each other tightly as they immediately hold hands to make their way on the dance floor as she flirts and grinds against him.
I went through a wave of emotions. In the midst of my dejection, I could not stop staring. His large black hands were slowly creeping up her shirt and they were kissing passionately. All I could do was scowl and ******* beer after beer as she completely forgot about me and was completely focused on her Black Boyfriend. Apparently, they had just met a few days before.
Love is war, and I suffered a humiliating defeat. To the victor go the spoils – a virile and supremely confident Black Man had captured the love and desire of the ultimate pulchritude of White Womanliness. What took me years of procrastination to finally approach her, the Black Alpha Male only required a mere instance of thought and action to pluck her away. This event was a seminal moment of my life and a harbinger of more things that would happen and then I’d observe later in my life.
Long live White Women who Love Black Men!
This article is wholly original and written by me. It was originally posted on Girl Worshipper’s blog here - http://girlworshipper.blogspot.ca/2017/12/why-i-stopped-worrying-and-learned-to.html?m=1
I believe the roots or the seed of my obsession could be traced all the way back to my first interracial sighting. It was all about a girl in college, in rural Canada where I lived at the time. The girl had lovely red curly hair, green eyes with an ample bosom and wide breeding hips accentuated by a relatively narrow waist. Her personality was hyper-feminine, bubbly and radiant. She was a Goddess that I admired from afar, never having the courage to even go near her for so long. When we are smitten and deeply infatuated, the object of our affection becomes The Most Beautiful Girl In The World.
Three years later, in my final year of college I began to make small talk with her. What a thrill! Once I had taken these small steps, I began to write sonnets about her beauty and my undying love. There was a social dance coming up and I had broached the subject by asking her in a rather timid and off-handed away if she was going. She answered in the affirmative and I said “I will see you there!”. Finally, my dream of being with my Dream Girl was coming true.
So when I see her at the dance, she is sitting with female friends and we just make the usual chit chat. As soon as a song comes up that I think would be suitable, I ask “would you like to dance?” She looks incredulous and right past me and sees a good looking Black guy walking towards where we are sitting. She lights up, smiles and they hug each other tightly as they immediately hold hands to make their way on the dance floor as she flirts and grinds against him.
I went through a wave of emotions. In the midst of my dejection, I could not stop staring. His large black hands were slowly creeping up her shirt and they were kissing passionately. All I could do was scowl and ******* beer after beer as she completely forgot about me and was completely focused on her Black Boyfriend. Apparently, they had just met a few days before.
Love is war, and I suffered a humiliating defeat. To the victor go the spoils – a virile and supremely confident Black Man had captured the love and desire of the ultimate pulchritude of White Womanliness. What took me years of procrastination to finally approach her, the Black Alpha Male only required a mere instance of thought and action to pluck her away. This event was a seminal moment of my life and a harbinger of more things that would happen and then I’d observe later in my life.
Long live White Women who Love Black Men!
This article is wholly original and written by me. It was originally posted on Girl Worshipper’s blog here - http://girlworshipper.blogspot.ca/2017/12/why-i-stopped-worrying-and-learned-to.html?m=1
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