Just some thoughts and ideas going around in my head while trying to figure out where I am and where everyone else is going.

Wednesday, December 12, 2007

Mandingo Fantasy

The other night I was talking over a pizza with Curtis, a friend of mine and fellow blogger and we were talking about why so many white men like to have black men for lovers or just sexual encounters. I don’t think of myself as a racist but I’ve never been with a white man or at least admitted to it, but I said that that many white people were looking for that Mandingo fantasy.

Now I wasn’t talking about Mandingo, the name of the movie that I saw in the eighties or the book that it was based on. I was talking about Mandingo, the big dick African warrior of urban myth that would come and take you, manhandle you, rape you but leave you smiling and begging for more. Well maybe I am talking about the book and movie, where Ken Norton, a big black buck came in and took care of business for his white mistress. She wanted the Mandingo fantasy where she was ravaged by the black man but still be in control and still safe.

I say this is a fantasy, because most black men, although blessed physically, rarely come up to the standards that their white counterparts are looking for. Very few us will have that ten to twelve inches of man meat that they want. In fact the only person that I have ever come across with that kind of measurement is Mitch.

Mitch stands about six feet three or four and has a face that is almost punishingly ugly. From what I understand, his family no longer talks to him. I’m not sure if it’s because he is gay or because they are frightened of his looks. But he has an ass of two firm round orbs that stick out like a park bench, so solid that you could bounce a quarter off it. And his dick is a thing of beauty. It is so long and thick with veins popping in all the right places and a head that reminds you of a small Portobello mushroom that you would need to shave off all the hair from your ass so you could fit the whole thing in. To see him move when he is naked is to melt into your own dreams, slide into your own fantasies.

He is always surrounded by white men. Men he has been with and men that he will probably be with. These are people who even though know they will never measure up to his measurements in height or dick length think they will always be in control and they and will never be hurt by him. But I think as in most relationships they are hurt, because eventually they realize he is more that just a fantasy. He is a real person.

White men will always long for Mitch or men like Mitch. In fact black men will want him too. The Mandingo fantasy isn’t just confined to the white community. As gay men we all long for someone who will take us into a different world. As humans we all look for that partner that will affirm what we think of ourselves or cover what we least like about ourselves.

As for me, I think I will just rent Mandingo the movie again and leave real life and real fantasies for others to deal with.


  1. WHAT....have I created!?! I enjoy your blog more than my own.

  2. Thank you, but that's probably because we haven't seen anything from you since last month.

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  4. When I was 22-YO I met a 41-YO Black man, William, in a laundry mat one Sunday morning. I was a long legged 6’-4”, athletic build at 195 pounds, blond and blue. I also had a great ass and knew it, because I had been propositioned by both white and Black men since I was 16-YO. I just ignored it, but made a mistake once and was raped. It didn’t destroy me, but it affected me, and all of sudden William in the laundry drew my interest. Why, I don’t know. He was 5’-10’’, to 6’-0’, height-weight proportionate and deeply black.
    He didn’t come on to me (but I caught him eyeing my ass a couple of times)and we went next door to a bar that was open and had a drink, put our clothes in the dryer, had another drink and an hour later I was at Williams house back ass naked. When he dropped his pants his huge cock rolled out.
    I wasn’t drunk, I just wasn’t in control after seeing his package and I stepped over to him and gently hefted that monster in my hand. It was heavy, but light as a feather in seconds. Needless to say it didn’t fit anything I had, but I dropped to my knees and tried, we went to the bed and I crawled between his legs and tried, but I couldn’t get it in my mouth. I eventually stroked, kissed, and licked his cock paying attention to his sweet spot. He came and it was like getting hit with a hose—long ropes of jism—covered my face and coated my throat. Before we were done, my throat and voice box were coated in thick cum and my nose and sinuses were full of it. It was in my hair and dried on my face.
    I couldn’t stay away from him and was with him for months and eventually I got the head and a small part of his cock into my mouth and pushing into my throat. He also got that big fucker into my ass without killing me. And with every thrust after about the first 10, I shot a load. Just like a pump, thrust-shoot, thrust-shoot. One occasion after he got his “pussy”, he dressed me up in his ex-wife’s clothes: Stuffed bra, panties, short dress, and even heels that were pretty cramped and spent the entire day at each other before he bent me over his couch and fucked me.
    I have always thought his big prick was a magic magnet and still think so, because something drew me to him. And once he had me I couldn’t stop trying to conquer his giant black anaconda. I glad it happened, because I enjoyed it while we played with each other, I enjoyed the experience, and he was a nice man. Oh, a tailor’s tape measured him out a little under 12-1/2”, the head a spongy 9-1/2” at the rim, the shaft 9” and maybe 2-1/2” thick. It was big.
    I have no reason to lie, so believe it or not.


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