If only I had a dollar for each time a white guy asked me to be his “big, black, dominating, Mandingo top.” Below is my recent response to such a request:I'd rather you find out who I am, what I think, what I feel, what kind of sex I want to have than have you write me three long emails detailing your fantasies for All Black Men.
What you described doesn't make me feel special. It's not about me; it's about my skin color. It also sounds like you're telling me what to do, setting up the scene, inviting others without my consent. Who's in charge here?
Being your Mandingo is a role that could be played by any black man. I'm not just any black man, in or out of bed. I need someone who's gonna make an effort to see what's on my mind and how I feel.
What else can a black man become to you besides a “big, black, dominating, Mandingo top?”
