Race is one of the most vexing problems facing America today. Civil strife in our urban centers has been growing at an alarming rate with the black and white races viewing one another with increasing fear and disgust. While there have been many advances made to cure this racial illness blacks and whites in America are finding that they can no longer communicate and two separate societies seem to be evolving in the United States, one for each major racial group. Even though blacks and whites may work and play together the tensions between them is very real, boiling just below the surface. Nothing brings these tensions out as much as inter-racial sexual affairs. Hate and love have always been closely allied but the addition of race to a sexual relationship narrows the gap even more.
Calvin Hernton, in SEX AND RACISM IN AMERICA, claims that every inter-racial affair is a confused love-hate relationship with both parties flaying one another with racial slurs each time they have even the mildest disagreement. More often than not these inter-racial affairs are comprised of white females and black males but, lately, there has been a sharp rise in the number of white male-black female matches. Mr. Hernton maintains that the majority of these affairs are started in business offices where white men are being exposed to black girls for the first time in there lives. This book is about these girls who have found that they are objects of white lust the moment they are hired.
BLACK MANHATTAN, by James Weldon Johnson, inter-racial affairs in the world of business are explored deeply. According to the author many white employers consider having black secretaries as status symbols. By having an attractive Negro girl in the office a white man can prove his "Liberal" political views. At first black girls were hired as token "house niggers" by major companies under the pressure of militant black groups but now a large number of white employers find that they prefer these females of a different color over their own kind. Sex, very often, is the basis of this new demand for black secretaries and other office workers.
When a beautiful Negro girl is hired by a white firm she is aware that all too many white men will think of her as an easy mark because of the racial myth of black sexual superiority. While whites may think that blacks are inferior in every other way a surprising number have the false notion that Negroes have much stronger and more powerful erotic drives than they have. Carter Woodson, in THE NEGRO IN OUR HISTORY, claims that this myth was accepted by whites from the time the first black slave was brought to America. It remains, today, as one of the more lasting racial beliefs even amongst supposedly sophisticated whites, males and females.
Not all Negro women resent being chased by white men. In a book by Charles Silberman called CRISIS IN BLACK AND WHITE, the author says that some Negroes, having grown up with a feeling of racial inferiority, reject the idea that they can be happy with members of their own race so they turn to whites in hopes of getting both love and success. During my own investigation into the affairs between black girls and their employers I've found this to be true and I've included some of these stories in this book. I am also including the racial hate that seems to be a part of every love affair between blacks and whites.
Robert Rehbein, Ph. D.
CHAPTER ONE ...
ANNA
The subject is a beautiful, shapely black girl of twenty-three who works as an executive secretary for a major insurance firm in New York City. This tape-recorded interview took place in a fashionable three-room apartment which Anna could not afford on her salary. The rent, she hastened to inform me, was being paid by her lover ... the forty-six year old white man she worked for.
"Hubert would kill me if he found out that I was spilling my guts into this tape machine. He liked to think of himself as a great, tough man with a spade chick on the side, but he's really nothing more than an overgrown boy who doesn't know the first thing about being a man. Why, up in Harlem where I come from, kids of ten and eleven know more about life than he does.
"You think because he's a big executive that he has something on the ball? Not Hubert. like so many important white men he got his job the easy way by going to the right schools and knowing the right people. If he had been born black, Hubert would be a washroom attendant right now.
"Of course, I don't let him know how I feel. If I told my white man what I really thought of him I'd lose this wonderful apartment. Any time I get the blues and want to walk out on him I just stare out that window. On a clear day I can see Harlem.
"I remember how things were. I was born in a tenement flat because my mother couldn't make it down five flights of stairs to get to the charity ward at the hospital. My father? He had run off four months before, leaving his wife and six children. In Harlem, fatherless homes are the rule rather than the exception.
"As the youngest one in the family I was spoiled up until I was six. After the time I started school, my mother began to crack up mentally and ignored me and the rest of her children. I still remember her sitting like a black piece of wood staring into nothing. After so many problems the poor woman just retreated into a world of her own.
"When my mother was put away into a state mental hospital I became an orphan in a very real sense. My oldest sister married at the age of sixteen and my oldest brother joined the Navy just to eat on a regular basis, so I, along with the youngest kids, were left upon the mercies of society.
"I had one advantage over my brothers and sisters; I was pretty. At a very early age I knew that my looks were exploitable. While my brothers and sisters were packed off to institutions, I managed to bat my big brown eyes at a childless couple next door and got myself adopted.
"Well, I wasn't really adopted. I became a foster child which meant that the couple got paid a certain amount each month for my keep. If they went so far as to adopt me, they wouldn't get this monthly check. I didn't get a new name but, at least, I got a new home.
"The Thompsons were kind enough but they treated me more like a pet than a person. Since I knew that I had to depend on them for everything, I made a point to be cute and sweet. If I ever gave into anger just once, I'd find myself in some orphan home, I thought.
"That's how I learned to hide my emotions. I knew how to hide my real feelings from the white man who is supporting me. I sometimes want to say what I feel before I bust, so I guess that's why I'm talking to you now. It's better that I blow off steam to you, a stranger, than to Hubert, the man who thinks I love him.
"You might get the idea that I'm a high-class hooker because I'm living off a man. Well, maybe I am, but I still work in the office for wages. You might say I'm a mistress rather than a hooker. I sure as hell had lots of chances to sell my body when I was up in Harlem.
"When I turned fourteen one of my girl friends told me that she knew a pimp who was always on the lookout for very young, very pretty girls. Fourteen sounds like the age of a child to you white, but to ghetto blacks, that was just the right age to start selling ass.
"My girl friend starting selling her body and I never saw her again. She came from a broken home and had no one else to turn to but a pimp. I was lucky enough to have a set of parents ... foster parents, I should say. This kept me from walking the streets.
"Boys my age were always after me. They thought I was stuck-up because I never gave any of them a tumble. When I walked home from school they would kid me a lot and say that I probably thought of myself as white. 'You don't want a tan man, baby?' they'd ask. 'You saving yourself up for a blonde boy?'
"'Maybe I am, nigger,' I'd answer right back and they would laugh. It's all right for one black to call another black, nigger, but don't you do it if you still want to keep your head on your shoulders.
"As I grew older, I saw my girl friends drop out of school one by one usually to marry boys that knocked them up. When I turned eighteen I was unique; I was a virgin with a high-school diploma. Where I come from just one of those achievements is plenty.
"I wanted to go on to college but my foster parents couldn't afford it, especially since, at the age of eighteen, I was considered grown and the state didn't have to send checks out for my support. This left me with the choice of staying in Harlem and probably marrying some porter or going downtown to the white world and finding a good job. There just weren't any jobs up in Harlem.
"I bade the Thompsons good-bye when I left as if I were going across the country instead of a short subway ride downtown. You see, the white world was like going into another state for me. When I rode out of Harlem I promised myself I would never go back. I was escaping. I had a high-school diploma, a good mind and a better body that hadn't been touched by human hand ... or cock. I was a virgin but, to whites, I was almost a prostitute simply because of my color.
"Civil Rights groups had opened up some employment fields and I went to a big insurance office that bragged it was an 'equal opportunity' concern which meant that they had to hire niggers whether they liked it or not.
"In high school I had taken commercial courses so I was good at typing. This skill was needed at the time in the insurance company so I was grabbed right away. I took a room at a hotel nearby just to save carfare. It wasn't much of a joint but it was my first home as an adult.
"I had escaped a childhood in Harlem and I was now on my own with a head start most black girls didn't have. Almost every one of my girl friends was being banged around by husband or pimp.
"I was lonely, of course. Which eighteen year old girl living alone wouldn't be? I was making a nice enough income for a new beginner ... especially a black beginner. While my white co-workers complained about their salaries, I thought I was living pretty high. The same amount of money looks a lot bigger to a black than it does to a white. We're not used to being paid living wages.
"In the office I was only one of five black girls amongst over seventy whites. We all got along all right, I guess, but we never really socialized. The white girls had their white boys and the blacks had theirs. The very idea of interracial dating hadn't caught on ... yet.
'Things really started heating up for me when I was switched over to a new division in the insurance office. This floor was loaded with males of all ages but only one race ... white. Equal opportunity hadn't caught on above the porter level at the company.
"When I walked into my new assignment I was greeted by whistles. A girl, any girl, would attract attention on this floor here, but I, being black and beautiful, made them all sit up and take notice. After being with so many females for so long in the steno and typing pool, I was ready for a little attention.
"I sure as hell got attention! The ages of the white men ranged between eighteen and sixty-two but all of them had some flirting remark to make to me each day I came in. Then it went beyond simple flirting.
"A fellow named Gregory, who was some kind of junior executive, cornered me in the supply room once. He locked the door and said, 'I want to change my luck, Anna.'
"When a white man screws a black girl, he thinks that it will improve his life. To Gregory I wasn't a girl but some sort of good luck charm. He didn't think for a minute that I wouldn't give in to him. I was black and blacks were always ready for
"Gregory grabbed me and kissed me hard on the mouth. His hands roamed my body. It was the first time in my life that a white male had ever kissed me and, despite the fact that he was forcing himself on me, I found Gregory stimulating. When he cupped his hands over my buttocks and squeezed, stimulation turned to disgust.
"I pushed him away angrily. 'I'm not your woman,' I snapped. 'Now step aside and let me get out.'
"The white man was shocked. 'Why you lousy black bitch!' he said. 'You should be glad you're working here. Give you niggers an inch and you want a yard.'
"He had the idea that I should be so grateful to have a job in a white insurance company that I should show my gratitude by giving my body to every white man who demanded it. When I tried to push past him, he threw me against the wall. He opened his pants and exposed his penis. I was stiff and pink.
' "Pull up your dress, baby,' he said, 'and don't act so imagine any more.'
"I gasped. He was going to rape me! I let out a scream that brought some men to the door. They tried it but it was locked. When they banged on the door, Gregory looked scared. He zipped his fly up again and tried to smile. 'Can't you take a joke?' he said weakly and opened the lock.
"When the men saw us they immediately got the whole idea. I was about to complain until I heard one of them say to Gregory, 'Get yourself some poon-tang, boy?'
"Poon-tang is another expression white men have for black girls. The man who said it was from the Deep South where teenaged males didn't think they would become men unless they had a black girl first. The attempted rape was no more to this Klansman than a very minor indiscretion. The idea caught on and all the men laughed. Not a single one of them came to my aid. If I had been white, things would've been a whole lot different.
"I went back to my work in a rage, a rage I didn't dare express. After all, how many jobs were there open to a black girl?
"By keeping my mouth shut about what went on in the supply room I saved my job but it didn't do much for my reputation. By the time Gregory got through talking to his friends, I was the one who almost raped him. Needless to say they all believed him. I had a hell of a time shaking off hands every time the men came near me. Every male in the place, single or married, young or old, wanted to get into my dark flesh.
"The hell of my situation was that I didn't care for what few black males I met. The man who ran the elevator was black but he was forty and married. He seemed nice enough but I had to turn him down when he tried to date me. He gave me the same crap I had been hearing since my tits began to show...'What's the matter, too good for a man of your own color? You want a white?'
"'Maybe I do,' I answered in tired disgust.
"I was pushing twenty before I gave up my virginity ... to a white man. It happened at an office party. It was New Year's Eve and everyone at the office wanted to get an early start on the drinking. While I was never much of a drinker, I decided to let loose for once.
"Other girls from the steno pool were invited to the party so that there was an even ratio of males to females. For the black girls, however, the ratio didn't exist. There wasn't a single black male present.
"This didn't mean we dark beauties went unnoticed. Far from it. The white males seemed more interested in us than in their own kind. One chubby fellow in his twenties grabbed me and shouted in a drunken voice, 'I'm gonna start the new year off right. I'm gonna change my luck!'
"He planted a wet kiss on my mouth. His tongue darted inside and licked against mine. I was about to push him away as I had done so many times before with other men but, what the hell, it was a party.
"The chubby guy shoved his body against mine and I felt the hard pole of his sex organ. For two years I had been living alone and not having any love. All my loneliness came to a head and demanded that I give in for once.
"When the fat boy realized I wasn't going to reject him, his voice turned thick. 'Let's go some place where we can be alone,' he said.
"Right in front of everyone he opened the door to the supply room. I ignored the laughter and the obscene comments as he pushed me inside and locked the door. 'The name's Al,' he said by way of introduction as he pawed me. 'I'm from cost accounting.'
"Well, at least I knew his name. It wasn't as if he were a complete stranger.
"I let Al open my dress and undo my bra. When my breasts were bared he took a deep breath. 'You're beautiful...' he muttered, his blue eyes aflame.
"Someone knocked on the door and shouted. 'What's going on in there? You being raped again, Anna?'
"Then I recognized the voice ... it was Gregory. The fact that I was giving in to a man proved his story that I had been the aggressor in attempted rape. It didn't matter. My head spun and my body ached for love. For the first time in my life a man was looking at my naked breasts. Al wasn't much of a man, though. He was flabby and sickly white, but in my alcoholic state, this didn't mean anything.
"Al placed his mouth against one of my nipples and began to suck hard. He pushed me further into the recesses of the supply room until my back was against the wall. His hands clawed at the rest of my clothes. Soon I was naked. I felt his hands grab my bared ass and that pole of sex probed against my vagina.
For a fleeting moment I returned to my habit of rejection. 'No,' I pleaded. 'No more...'
'"Come on, honey,' Al breathed. 'You know you want it. All you girls want it.'
"I didn't know if he meant all you black girls or not but I didn't care. I spread my legs wide to receive his thick, muscular sexual member. He had his pants and shorts down about his ankles and didn't look very romantic as he pushed against me. I gasped when I felt his tube of flesh slip into the opening.
"Outside, near the door, I heard men snicker to one another. They kept trying the door. It was a simple matter for them to locate the key and I knew that that was what they were planning. They all wanted my body. They had wanted my body since the day I walked into the office.
'"Ohhh! Al!' I cried aloud as he rammed all the way inside my flesh. He pumped back and forth and he breathed hard in the stale air of the narrow room. I closed my eyes and tried to make believe I was some place else with another man instead of a dusty little room with a fat, drunken white boy.
"All I wanted was the sensation of that bulky snake of flesh slipping in and out of my sexual opening.
"Al groaned and stopped moving. I felt something warm and moist shoot into my body. He was having an orgasm. We clung together for a moment until his male part began to grow limp again. .Al pulled out of me and looked down. 'You're ... you're cherry!' he said with stunned surprise.
"I looked down at my pubic patch and saw that it was soaked with virginal blood. So, now I was a woman.
"Al then turned his sick, flabby, sweaty face to mine. His dull blue eyes registered his amazement. 'A virgin? I didn't know. I thought you rolled over for every guy in the joint,' he said.
"My bad reputation, obviously, had made him pick me for a luck changing operation. As an 'easy lay' I was the natural target for any male with sperm boiling in his meat.
"The door swung open suddenly. Men poured through; I felt faint. They crowded around me and gazed at my dark nakedness. For some of the younger ones it was the first time they had ever seen a female, black or white, completely naked; for others it was their first glimpse of a nude Negro.
"I felt like a freak on display. I put my hands over my bloody vagina but someone pushed them away. The door opened again. 'Let me be first,' I heard Gregory say. 'The nigger owes me that much for the trouble she tried to make me.'
'I was hardly in the position to defend my virtue. Gregory opened his trousers and there was that pink snake erected as always. I had the idea that this was its natural condition. 'Go away,' I said in my drink slurred voice.
'"Getting imagine again, huh, baby?' Gregory said and thrust his sex organ into my cleft.
"As he pumped I thought only of the pleasure of the act and I tried to make it more than it was. It was too late to scream for help now. As the old saying goes ... when rape is inevitable, you might just as well lay back and enjoy it.
"Well, I wasn't lying down but standing up against the wall completely naked in a tiny room crowded with over a dozen white men. When Gregory had a climax he clutched at my buttocks so hard that I gasped in pain, he whispered meanly into my ear, 'That's for nothing.'
"Once Gregory left me, another took his place. I recognized Frank, the teenaged kid who delivered mail. His movements were clumsy and excited and I realized that this was the first time for him, too. Since I had always liked Frank, I put my arms around him and pressed my lips against his. At least he was one male I could respond to fully.
'"She's getting worked up!' that Klansman said thickly to the other. 'These nigger girls can't be stopped once you get them going.'
"I tried to ignore him and his racist voice but that was impossible since he was waiting on line to be next. I promised myself that I wouldn't take him on. I had to draw the line somewhere.
"Frank shot his juice into my cleft. As soon as he stopped pumping sexually, the Klansman grabbed one of my breasts. 'I ain't had me poon-tang since I came to New York,' he announced.
"'No ... no more!' I cried aloud hoping to attract the attention of some hero outside the room.
"'See!' Gregory told everyone. 'That's what she did the last time I almost got into her!'
"The pale faced bastard was still protecting his innocence. I couldn't reply now with a teenaged white boy still inside my flesh. Once Frank was finished, that mean Southerner rammed his hard body against mine. He was deep in my flesh before I knew it. Obviously he was used to taking black girls.
"The force of his sexual ramming made me feel faint again and I slumped to the floor. This didn't stop the rebel. He told the other men to stand away while he arranged a place for me on the floor which was littered with crushed and empty paper cups that smelled of liquor. These had been dropped by the whites who had had me or who were waiting on line like patrons before the box office of a dirty movie.
"I was so disgusted with myself that I didn't resist when the rebel screwed me. I was too far gone now. My reputation ... what there was of it ... was now completely destroyed. The rest of the men became a blur of thrusting bodies. I had been a virgin when I entered the room with Al, and now I was being gang-banged by a dozen men. Maybe the Klansman was right and black girls did have keener sexual instincts than white females. ...
"I don't know how I got back to my room that night, but when I woke up the next day, I felt very sick with my first hangover. I threw up all over the place and couldn't bring myself to attend a New Year's party a black girl had invited me to. I was sure that I would've met a nice dark stud there but it was too late for that ethnic stuff now as I tried to survive the awful hangover.
"When I did become sober and well again I tried to convince myself that that gang-bang had been all a part of a bad dream. How could I face those same men at the office again? I actually thought of quitting my job but then where would I go? I had to go back to work at the office.
"When I did go to work at the beginning of the year the white leered at me and patted my ass every chance they had. They kept asking me to accompany them to the supply room. I knew what they really wanted.
"I was thinking of quitting when I suddenly got a transfer. I had been jumped several levels in the insurance company to become the executive secretary of one of the big shots! That's how I met Hubert. You see, he had been at the office party, but as an executive, he couldn't afford to be seen making it with a black chick in the supply room. By promoting me to his personal office he had me all to himself.
"The minute I saw Hubert I knew what the score was. Not only did I recognize him from the party, I also recognized that familiar gleam in his eyes. Knowing just how much a man wanted to screw became second nature to me and this chunky, balding executive was straining at the bit to get at my dusky meat.
"The first thing he mentioned was the party and my mass affair with the boys in the supply room so I knew what the game was. When he placed his hands on my shoulders I cringed. He was so damned sure of himself! I was going to tell him where he could shove his job until he told me the salary I would be making.
"Most girls in the insurance company had to work for at least ten years to get my offer and now I had gotten it in two. That was damned good for a nigger.
"For a chunky, middle-aged man, Hubert worked fast. His office was divided into two parts with him getting the plush leather furniture, the thick rug, the grand view of the city while I had a simple desk, a chair and a view of a yellow wall. Still, I was going places.
"The first place I went to was Hubert's inner office. He called me in and told me to lock the door. There was still time to back out, but when I recalled my old office that was filled with rapists, I decided it was easier to handle one horny bastard than a couple of dozen, so I locked the door.
"Hubert grinned at me wickedly and his rosy cheeks flushed to an even brighter hue. 'Well get along together, Anna,' he told me. 'We'll get along just fine.'
"Without another word he kissed me full on the lips. As his hands roamed my body, I wondered if he was this way with all his young secretaries, or was he just making an exception with me because of my color. Somehow white men have the idea that all females, outside their own race, were fair game for their lusts.
"Excitedly the executive began to pull off his clothes. I felt like the hooker I had almost become when I was fourteen. That gang-bang in the supply room had come as the result of drink and high emotions, but this was different. This time I was deliberately and coldly going to have sex relations with someone and for profit.
"Sex that grew out of honest passion could be understood, but I was after a job that paid twice as much as I had been getting. And yet, what were my options? I could quit the insurance company and go to work as a waitress in some coffee joint where I would probably meet other white men with roaming hands and eyes.
"I had to face the fact that I was just another black girl in a white world and I had to make the best of what I had. What I had in spades, if you'll forgive the pun, was my ripe, dark body that men of all colors seemed to crave. With this in mind I stepped out of my shoes.
"Hubert was naked before I was. His body wasn't attractive and his penis hung limp. In a way I was disappointed that I hadn't excited him into an erection. He grabbed his male part and pulled on it. 'I've never had a colored girl,' he said. 'I've always wondered about the experience and now I have you.'
"The executive, like so many other whites, had the notion that my color made me exceptionally sexy. 'Are you married?' I asked as I took off my bra.
'"My wife is more like a sister to me now,' he confessed. 'All she is interested in are our four children. You know how white women are.'
"I didn't know how white women were, but from what I gathered, Hubert had a lousy sex life. He was expecting me, a supposedly nymphomaniacal black, to change that for him. Well, while the executive wanted to change his luck, he was actually going to change mine, because, with my raise, I could afford a better place to live.
"I stripped off my panties and stood in front of him stark naked. His eyes bulged out and he surprised me my kneeling and then licking my pubic area. He slipped his hands over my rear and lapped inside me with his darting tongue. As I looked down at his bobbing, balding head, I felt revulsion rather than passion. I had heard of cunnilingus, of course, but I never thought it would happen to me.
"The respectable, married, middle-aged white executive chewed on my black, ghetto-bred cleft while I thought, if only my family could see me now.
"Hubert chewed, licked and sucked my sexual area with gusto. When he stood up I could see that his male member had engorged so that it stood upright. 'My wife won't let me French,' he told me. 'White women are so stupid about sex.'
"He assumed, naturally, that I was used to such perverted sex acts. I didn't tell him that this was the first time a man had ever mouthed my vagina. I didn't tell him that, up until a couple of weeks ago, I had been as pure as the driven snow ... even though I wasn't as white.
"Hubert led me over to a plush leather sofa and told me to stretch out. When I did, I felt the color of my skin melt with the color of the leather. Hubert stood next to me seeming to be very proud of the fact that he was in a state of erotic arousal.
His next statement proved it. 'You colored girls know how to make a man feel like a man.' he said.
"So far I had only played a passive role in our encounter but he acted as if I had been active from the second I locked the door. He mounted me and I gasped under the pressure of his weight. Once again a male sex organ touched mine. This time I was sober and knew only too well what I was doing.
"When Hubert plowed into my flesh he pressed my dark, naked behind against the soft leather of the sofa. He sawed his lust-hard organ back and forth and my nipples began to erect with desire. I was beginning to respond to him. For someone who was supposed to be highly-sexed this response came late.
"The man moved with swifter strokes and I slipped my hands over his back. I dug my fingers into his flesh when his climax came with a hot rush. He groaned in sheer delight. We lay together in our sexually-linked position saying nothing and listening to our beating hearts.
"While the executive wasn't exactly my type of man, he still was enough of a man to excite me. I don't think I could ever screw a man I had no feeling for at all. That time in the supply room was an exception; I had been too drunk to know what I was doing.
"Once Hubert found out that I made a perfect bed companion for him, he went all out to keep me. He set me up in this nice apartment which is saving me a bundle in rent. The whole office knows that I'm his mistress and he enjoys being pointed out in the executive dining room as a gay dog.
"I don't care what people think any more. Ever since I went to work for the insurance company, people, whites, have been saying that I was over-sexed and all that crap. So, since I've been called the name, I might as well have the game. If whites want to think of me as a 'typical' black girl with hot panties, let them. As long as my executive keeps me in this style I've become accustomed to, they can think anything they like."
'This may not be the best of lives but it is a hell of a lot better than the one I've had up in Harlem."
Diagnostic reaction:
Anna is trying to adjust to her position as a sexual plaything to her employer but her resentment towards him, as well as to all whites, is making that difficult. She blames the white race for turning her into something she didn't want to be ... a partial prostitute. Only by continuing to work at the office is Anna able to maintain belief that she hasn't gone completely bad.
The girl's story is not an unusual one. Authors Otley and Weatherby, in their book, THE NEGRO
IN NEW YORK, claim that it is a common experience for black girls to discover that they are the objects of the wildest sexual myths from white men. When Hubert, the middle-aged executive, performed cunnilingus on Anna, he took it for granted that she, as a Negro, was used to such erotic behavior.
Actually, Anna is rather cold sexually but most whites cannot accept the fact that black girls are sometimes frigid.
Despite her resentment towards the executive, Anna looks upon him as a father-image, something that has always been missing from her life. Even though the girl did have a foster father, her attitude towards him, as well as her foster mother, seems detached.
Secretly Anna believes that the only reason the couple took her in was the monthly checks the state gave them for her support. Her relationship with her parents was cool and polite rather than deeply emotional. Out of a hidden need to turn to an older man for comfort and protection, the girl found it easy to accept the executive's offer to be his bed companion.
Basil Davidson, in his book, BLACK MOTHER, states that most Negro families are headed by women. Black men, often crushed by an inability to make a living wage for their families, desert them, leaving their children in care of their wives. Young Negro girls who have grown up without the love of a father are easy prey to older men who want to exploit them.
Anna just missed being turned into a child prostitute at the age of fourteen because she had a stable if not very affectionate home life.
Anna has found some security with the executive, but emotionally, she is still lost and seeking. She hopes to meet and marry a man of her own race some day but there aren't many single black men who can meet her high standards.
Her impoverished childhood in Harlem made Anna rule out all black males with menial positions. If she does not meet the kind of man she wants, Anna will probably go on servicing the sexual demands of white males. In time she will give up office work entirely and become a full-time mistress. If the girl had been born white she would not have to face this future.
CHAPTER TWO ...
LAURA
The subject is a nineteen year old black girl who works as a file clerk in a large advertising agency in Chicago. Although Chicago has a very large Negro population she is the only member of her race in this particular firm. I interviewed her at an apartment she is sharing with two other black girls.
"You might call me the 'house nigger' at my ad agency. I'm sure that I had been hired simply as show, but this doesn't mean I can take it easy at work. I do my job and do it well. If I ever get tired there are a dozen girls ready to step into my place.
"You see, ad agency work is considered a glamour occupation and girls with romantic notions in their heads vie with one another just to be a file clerk in it. I had these same notions once, but this was before I grew up.
"I was born right here in Chicago, but in an area called the black belt. My parents, like so many other Chicago blacks, came from the South in search of better jobs. My father worked as a floor waxer and my mother did domestic jobs on the side to support me and four other kids.
"It wasn't easy but we managed to get along. No matter how bad things were my parents would always tell mc that it was worse down South. What they did miss, however, was the weather. In winter, Chicago can be a very rough town, especially for the poor.
"Once I graduated high school I took this place with a couple of my classmates. One of them is a waitress and the other works as a typist for the state. Individually, we don't make much money, but when we pool our paychecks, we can afford this apartment and a car. Life is good and I'm not complaining.
"A few months ago I didn't think that life was all that beautiful. It started when I went to work for the ad agency. As the only black in the place I really stood out and I felt self-conscious.
You whites don't know the feeling of being so out-numbered by members of another race.
"Just go to the black belt to live and work for awhile and you'll see what I mean. You're afraid that you won't be judged on your own merits, but as a representative of your entire race. If you fail your whole race will fail.
"When I first started work I had the idea that the whites were just waiting anxiously for my first mistake. Luckily I managed to survive those first few weeks without mishap and I began to relax.
"Since I was the only black in my office my romantic life seemed to be at a dead end, unless I went in for inter-racial love. I've always been popular with boys, but I had never gone out with a white one yet. There were some fellows near my age and single at the office, but all were strictly WASPS.
"They were nice enough, but I was afraid to lei any of them get too close to me. An affair with a white boy would never lead me to the altar.
"My roommates worked in places that had plenty of black boys and I had to depend on them for dates. Once these fellows found out I was working for an all white office. They would call me a 'Tom' which is another word for house nigger. I told them that I still considered black beautiful, but, after awhile, I got tired of always defending myself and my job.
"About five weeks after I first started work I began to get interested in a white fellow named Charles. This was ironic because blacks call white men Mr. Charlie which is a racial slur. Charles knew about it and he liked to kid me about the term. He was a space salesman for the ad agency and he was twenty-four years old.
"Charles had curly, red-brown hair and gray eyes. When he was younger he used to be a child model which gives you some idea of how handsome he was. Charles was also single and this made him a prize catch for the girls in the office. One blonde all but threw herself at him, but I could see that she wasn't his type. Still, office gossip had it that they spent weekends together in a cabin he had in the country.
"I was surprised when Charles invited me to his cabin one day. 'If you like to fish this is just the place,' he told me.
"Was he inviting me to the cabin so I could go fishing or was he after my body? The cabin was a three hour drive from Chicago so I doubted that he would be willing to make a round-trip in one day. When he saw the way I hesitated, he laughed. 'Oh, there'll be another couple,' he said. 'I have two rooms so you can share one with the girl.'
"I didn't want to turn him down after that because this was the first really friendly overture I had gotten ever since I started work. I accepted his invitation with excitement mounting in my body.
"When I told my roommates I was going to spend a weekend with some girls from the office I could see they didn't believe me. 'So you've finally got yourself a white stud, Laura,' one of them said.
"I didn't try to argue with her; people always think the very worst no matter what you say. When Charles showed up at the apartment my roommates were thrilled to see that he was so handsome. He had brought with him the other couple, an inter-racial pair.
"I had been wondering how a strange white girl would react to sleeping in the same room with a black, but now I didn't have to worry because Agnes was even blacker than I was. The fellow she was with was a white named Paul who worked in one of the firms that took out ads via the agency I was employed in.
"Agnes said she was a nightclub singer but I didn't believe her. I pretended to accept her claim at face value and didn't press her for the names of the clubs she worked for.
"We all piled into Charles' car and took off for the country. I sat up in front with him while Agnes and Paul sat in the back. It wasn't long before I realized that their's was not a respectable relationship.
"They were kissing one another with open mouths and, through the rear-view mirror, I could see the white fellow slip his hand up along the black girl's legs until he reached her crotch. When he started fingering her slit, I knew that they were preparing themselves for a more intimate get-together at the cabin. Charles had lied to me; I wasn't going to share a room with another girl, but, rather, with him.
"I stared in front of me and tried to ignore the sounds of love-making in the rear seat. What was I to do now? I could always demand Charles to stop the car and let me out at the next corner, but somehow I couldn't get the words to form in my throat.
"Maybe I really wanted to go all the way with Charles. If he had been black I would've accepted his invitation right away. It wasn't sex that had made me hesitate so much as race. I've always had a fear of being exploited and used by white men.
"This was what prevented me from thinking of them in romantic terms. As I drove along with Charles, my personal Mr. Charlie, I thought it was time to change my ideas.
"I wasn't a virgin when I met Charles. When I was sixteen, I had my cherry busted on the roof of the tenement I lived in. The roof was a popular place in my neighborhood for sex because it was one of the few areas where a couple could have privacy.
"His name was Leroy, an eighteen year old who made his way through the world by selling pot. He tried to get me on junk, but I had seen too many addicts to start. In the ghetto there is nothing exciting about drug use because we who live there see too many people ruined by the stuff.
"My fear of drugs was about as strong as my fear of being exploited by whites. Leroy wasn't white and I let him pull my panties down on the roof of the house. It was a chilly night and I shivered both from the cold and my first fuck.
"The eighteen year old knew enough to bring a rubber with him and I watched as he slipped the grayish balloon-type thing over his upright tube of flesh.
"Once LeRoy had been forced to marry a girl because he made her pregnant and he had been careful ever since. The girl eventually had a miscarriage and this gave him a reason to desert her.
"LeRoy didn't waste much time and mounted my body as soon as he got the rubber on. He knew that I was a virgin, but this didn't stop him from loving in his rough and rugged way. I cried out when he rammed his big rod into my slit. There was a sharp pain as he plowed though my tender, untouched female opening, but like all black girls, I knew that pain was a part of love.
"Maybe white girls think the same way, but I don't know. White girls have never talked about love to me.
"The young dope pusher kept ramming me until he sighed with relief and lay still on top of my body. Even though he had a rubber on his penis, I could feel his semen fill it quickly. As soon as he had satisfied himself, LeRoy pulled his meaty bone out of my body.
"He sat back on his heels and slipped the rubber off. The smell of his male fluid drifted over to me as he poured the juice out of the rubber sack. 'There goes our baby,' he said as the fluid dropped on the roof.
"I wasn't too happy with my first sex experience because the boy seemed interested only in his feelings. If LeRoy had been white, I would've felt used and exploited. I thought of that affair on the tenement roof as I drove along with Charles and the inter-racial couple in the back seat. Surely the white fellow couldn't be any rougher or more selfish than my black lover had been.
"When we got to the cabin I was glad to get out of the car because Agnes and Paul were very close to having intercourse and I was afraid that they might actually do it as we drove along the highway.
"The inter-racial couple were even happier to get out of the car and they all but ran into the cabin. Charles touched my arm. 'Let's walk around for awhile. The love birds want to be left alone,' he said.
"For the first time I brought up the subject of sleeping arrangements since he gave me such an obvious opening. 'I don't think Agnes will want to share a room with me,' I told him, 'from what I've seen in the back seat.'
"Charles shrugged his shoulders and smiled shyly. 'Paul told me that he had only just met this girl so I expected them to be a little distant,' he explained. I wanted to believe him but I just couldn't.
"Charles had gotten me to the cabin on a ruse. He was after my body and I was sure that his friend, Paul, had told him that black girls were exceptionally passionate. After watching the way Agnes went to town on him I could see where he'd get this information.
"We walked over to the lake which was small and peaceful. I wondered how many girls he had taken to this place. I wondered if I were the first black one. In any event, Charles didn't push himself on to me as LeRoy had done and as other black boys had tried to do.
"He was very polite considering the fact that we were alone. I suppose I expected him to tear off my clothes on the spot and rape me. Having never been so close to a white boy before I didn't know exactly what to expect.
"I wanted to ask Charles if he ever had a love affair with a black girl, but I didn't for fear that he might think I was trying to suggest one between ourselves. We walked back to the cabin talking about fishing, the weather and the area in general, as if sex were not on our minds.
"Charles had timed it right because Paul and Agnes seemed sated at last. The white fellow was fixing drinks while my sister black was rearranging her clothes. It was very clear to me that they had had sex relations.
"After drinks we had something to eat. It wasn't imagine; just franks and beans which was enough to fill us up. Agnes and Paul left and I had the idea that both men had exchanged some sort of signal to indicate that it was now my turn to be laid.
"Once the couple were gone Charles put his hand on my knee. 'You're a very lovely girl, Laura,' he said.
"It was a beginning. Charles was now after my body in earnest. Again I compared his approach with LeRoy's. I felt that he was only handing me a line about being lovely, but, at least, it was nice to hear. That black boy never did waste much time with such flowery phrases.
"Charles slipped his other hand along my shoulders. His touch excited me. Despite our racial difference I was still a female who responded to male attentions. He brought his lips against mine. I didn't reject this advance and this encouraged him to push his hand all the way up to my crotch.
"He rubbed my vagina through my panties and sexual wanting grew stronger in me. 'Let's take off our clothes, honey,' he said softly and simply.
"He took off his shoes and socks, but I didn't make a move. He then removed his shirt and exposed his flat, muscular chest. Charles didn't seem to take notice of the fact that I was still fully clothed and wasn't making any attempt to become naked.
"The white man stripped off his pants and stood in front of me wearing only his jockey shorts. I could see by the way his crotch bulged that he had an erection. Then he took his shorts off. Charles stood in front of me with his penis bared and stiff.
"His skin was smooth and hairless except for the pubic patch. 'Come on, honey,' he urged with a touch of impatience. 'You're only young once.'
"I hesitated only for another second and then I took off my shoes. Charles watched and fondled his stiff dick as if he couldn't stand the delay any longer. I removed my dress and slip. I was now only a bra and panty set away from complete nudity.
'"Am I your first black girl?' I wanted to know.
'"Yes. Am I your first white?'
"I nodded. We had this lack of experience in common. I took off my bra and showed him my firm, dark, conical breasts with their lust-stiffened nipples. As soon as Charles saw them he rubbed his hands over these globes of flesh.
"Once again his touch aroused my needs. I pulled my panties off and now we were both naked. The white man stared at my pubic area hard and stepped closer to me. 'I've been dying to screw you for weeks,' he said.
"I wondered if he meant me as a person or as a black. Perhaps his friend had filled his head with all sorts of strange ideas about black girls and he picked me because I was the only one available at the office.
"Charles quickly opened up the sofa which had a fold away bed. The mattress was bare of sheets or blankets and he wasn't in the mood to put them on. He grabbed my body and we fell on top of the mattress. His lips pressed against mine once more and his hands roamed my body.
"Even at this most intimate moment he wasn't going to plow into me right away. I had to respect him for his concern for my feelings. He wasn't going to treat me as only an object of lust and no more. His affection for me was genuine.
"He buried his face into my neck and started to suck a hickey mark there. His big, throbbing sex stick kept rubbing back and forth over my thighs as he did but he still didn't try to penetrate me. I spread my legs as my desires mounted, indicating that I wanted his pale, virile member.
"Charles brought his mouth down to my tits and began to suck each nipple. They now stuck up like tiny dicks themselves and it had to be obvious to Charles that I hungered for his body as much as he hungered for mine.
"The white man sucked hickies all over my dark breasts and darker nipples. His sex organ engorged even more and, at last, he lay on top of me completely. With one hand he guided the knobby head of his dick into my cunt. By this time, I was so aroused that I pushed my torso up against his body so that the entire length of his sex organ filled my opening.
"Charles pumped with an easy yet powerful motion. I could see why he was so popular with women ... he was a perfect lover. The white man thrust and thrust with increasingly powerful strokes and I found myself gasping for breath. I wrapped my arms around him and then, in a spasm of passion, I wrapped my legs around his moving hips with my feet stuck straight in the air.
"Charles was touching areas of me that had never been touched before. For the first time in my life I felt like a mature and passionate woman. The stiff nipples on my breasts stabbed up against his flat, hard chest as he moved. I dug my fingers into his back and brought my knees toward his face in a frenzy of lust. Charles rammed with savage joy and then shot his load.
"'Laura! Oh, Laura!' he gasped when he poured into my flesh.
"Outside the cabin, it was beginning to get dark. The dying sun flooded the log walls with gold and scarlet. I heard someone talking and knew that Paul and Agnes were on their way back. Their timing was off. They were going to catch us in an erotic act but I didn't care.
"'Well...." Paul exclaimed when he walked in.
"'Let's blow,' Agnes told him.
'"Talk about love some other time,' he snickered in a dirty way. i want to watch.'
"I mean let's go and wait until these two kids are through,' she added.
'"Later, sweetheart, later,' Paul answered and started to take off his clothes.
"As passionately aroused as I was, I didn't want Paul to screw me. I was willing enough to make it with a guy I liked but not with someone who only wanted to use my body for sensation alone. 'Tell them to leave,' I whispered into Charles' car.
"I was happy to see Charles wave his friend off. 'Beat it, for crap's sake!' he told him angrily.
'"Well, we'll swap later,' Paul told him and left after he put his clothes back on.
"This indicated to me that Charles didn't think I was some sex object he could exploit. He really did care for me. I hugged him with my arms and legs and we lay in this position until the gold and red of the sun turned to a deep gray on the log walls.
"Although Paul wanted to swap girls Charles refused. I was a bit shocked when Paul complained, 'But you said we would.' This meant that Charles had planned all along to get me into an inter-racial sex orgy at the cabin.
"But his refusal also meant that, once he had my body, he wanted to keep it to himself without sharing it with another man. This may not be love, but it was close enough for a start.
"The next weekend we went to the cabin alone. I was deeply in love with Charles, a WASP of the first water, and I was sure that he felt the same way. He certainly was sexy enough, always licking my entire body and suck hickeys on my tits, ass and slit.
"I responded in kind. I sucked on his pale butts until I caused red welts to form. Then I rolled him over to take his rigid manhood into my mouth. I had never performed fellatio before, but I went down on Charles like a pro.
"As the white man lay on the mattress with his legs spread I mouthed his tube of flesh, taking as much of it as I could before I choked. I was so mad for my white lover that no sexual experience was foreign to me.
"When he shot his sperm I didn't spit it out. All my life I had been afraid of white men and now I was performing the most intimate sexual act of all upon one of them.
"The cabin in the woods near that small lake was an ideal place for love ... especially an inter-racial one. At the cabin we both forgot about color since there were no people to point us out or look at us with disgust.
"Once we left the cabin we would get the stares from both blacks and whites. Inter-racial hate, it seemed, was the fashion of the day and we were breaking the rules.
"I thought Charles was as deeply in love with me as I was with him and I was ready to accept his proposal of marriage if he ever made one. When I asked if he would like to meet my family, he went along willingly enough. I wanted to show him that I didn't mind having the fact that I had a white lover known even to my mother and father.
"My family did their best to make him feel at home but is a member of another race really at home amongst people of a different ethnic group? I could see that my parents didn't like the idea of me going out with a white man but they were willing enough to let me have my way.
"Times they are a changing, as the song goes, and my family knew that inter-racial marriages were becoming increasingly popular. I guess I was pretty old fashioned because I thought that a marriage was the natural goal of every romantic match.
"I was also old fashioned enough to believe that a couple should get to know one another's family. I had shown Charles my family and now I wanted to see his. When I started to press for this meeting, he exploded. 'Laura, be reasonable!' he shouted, I can't bring you to my home!'
'"Why not?' I asked with the innocence of the stupid.
"Charles gritted his teeth and spoke through them. 'Because, my pet, you're a nigger,' he answered in a cold, brutal manner.
"It was the first time he ever used that term and I stepped back from it as if it were a knife. Charles apologized right away but I knew it was already over between us. I didn't mind him not wanting to marry but it hurt me deeply to discover that he was ashamed of our relationship.
"Charles was the first, and, probably, last white man I ever had. He taught me that, no matter how intimate whites and blacks can get there is always that awful difference between them.
"Inter-racial couples go through life fooling one another trying to pretend that race has no relation with color. Blacks are really happier with other blacks just as whites are with other whites.
"Right now Charles is screwing a girl of his own race up at that cabin and I'm dating a black boy I've met through one of my roommates. He isn't as good looking as Charles or as adept a lover, but he has something that I need to be safe with ... a black skin."
Diagnostic reaction:
Laura is still in love with Charles even though she is trying to convince herself that her emotional ties to him have been severed because of his racial slur. When a black girl is romantically involved with a white man and then is snubbed socially, she has every right to feel that she has been exploited for sexual purposes. Being exploited is something Laura can't tolerate and thus she had to end her affair with a man she is still deeply in love with.
Wallace Mendleson, in his book, DISCRIMINATION, says black men can survive the emotional storms created by the end of inter-racial affairs better than black women because it is a male quality, regardless of color, to forget about unhappy romances quickly.
Women of all colors tend to brood over broken love affairs for years and, often, for a lifetime. When this broken love affair involves a man of another race, the woman feels rejected twice; first, for herself and, second, for her color.
Although Charles did not reject the girl for herself, he did for her face. But Laura, being excessively sensitive, concluded that Charles never loved her. She shows just how much more serious inter-racial affairs are over those between members of the same color.
Robert Penn Warren, in WHO SPEAKS FOR THE NEGRO?, feels that blacks resent whites who think they are doing them a service by flaunting inter-racial relationships.
There are just as many Negros who are disgusted by weddings between members of different ethnic groups as there are whites. It is a joke in the black community to say that every white who marries one of their kind is a "social climber."
Negroes know only too well that this is what whites think of blacks who marry males and females of their group.
Laura will eventually marry a black man to escape the storms of inter-racial passions. She may not love her husband as much as she had Charles, but she is seeking an escape from the torments of another inter-racial affair. In her last statement, she said that a black man had the color she feels safe with; she did not mention love.
like so many black girls hurt by an affair with a white man, she will probably brood about her relationship with Charles for years to come.
CHAPTER THREE...
SHIRLEY
The subject is a well-proportioned black girl of twenty who once was the private secretary to the mayor of a fairly large city in California. The name of this city cannot be mentioned because of legal complications that would ensue once the story was revealed.
Shirley is presently working as a secretary in San Diego and this interview took place in an apartment she is sharing with a pair of large dogs.
"There is an old saying about the more you see of men the more you admire dogs. After living with my dogs for two months now I've finally found out what loyalty, devotion, and true love is. Oh, I'm not sleeping with the animals or anything kinky like that. Even so, the more I see of men the less weird this idea seems to me.
"Men have always been after me and I'm sick of it. When I was only twelve years old I was seduced by an uncle. He crawled into bed with me when he was staying over one night and I thought he just wanted to get warm. Then he started pawing my body and I knew that he was after something more than warmth.
"I tried to pretend I was asleep in hopes that he would go away but how can a twelve year old girl sleep when a forty year old man is rubbing his dong between her butt halves?
"'Don't do that,' I pleaded softly but Uncle Walter pushed on until I felt something hot and moist spurt from his penis. He was climaxing but I thought he was urinating.
"I went into the bathroom and cleaned the stuff off and wouldn't leave until Uncle Walter returned to his own bed. When he did I locked the door to my bedroom and tried to sleep. I finally dropped off about dawn.
"In the morning my uncle pleaded forgiveness and pressed a dollar into my hand. 'Just forget it, Shirley,' he begged. 'Don't tell anyone. I was just playing around with you last night, right?'
"I was being paid hush money. I spent that dollar on candy and a lot of other sweet stuff. After I had spent the last cent I figured that sex wasn't all that terrible if I could get such rewards for simply letting a man 'play around' with my body.
"That mild bout on incest was certainly the beginning of my sexual career.
"The schools I went to here in California were inter-racial so I grew up accepting whites as equals. It wasn't unusual to see a mixed bag of blacks and whites swimming, riding and even dancing together where I came from.
"I lived on the same economical level as the whites because my father had a good job and I was an only child. The house I called home was just as good as those lived in by my white neighbors so I didn't grow up with a feeling of racial inferiority.
"As a kid I had little, if any, color awareness and I can honestly say that I was never discriminated against because of my race. Sounds like an ideal picture, doesn't it?
"It sounds like I'm the last one to get into trouble because of race but, eventually, my color caught up with me. In high school boys, white and black, wanted to date me because my body shaped up ahead of my time.
"I was still a few years away from my big trouble and I enjoyed life to the hilt. A white boy took my cherry, as a matter-of-fact, but I didn't think that race had anything to do with it at that time.
"He was on the football team and walked around with a perpetual erection. Jerry was a male nymphomaniac who started banging girls when he was only fourteen. When we met we were both sixteen and overly developed for our ages.
"Jerry was over six feet tall and big chested. I was the tallest girl in school and also had a big chest. My tits stuck out a country mile and I encouraged stares and whistles by wearing tight sweaters. When I walked around without a bra, I got a kick out of the reaction I got when my boobs bounced under my clothes. Jerry was one of the first to do something serious about his reaction.
"The white boy had been driving around in his family car without a license because he was still under aged despite his size. He was the kind who needed a car to keep up with his sex life. When he invited a girl for a ride, it meant that he wanted to throw his meat in between her legs.
"More than a few girls had already accepted his offer and it was only a matter of time before he got around to me. As I've already said I had little awareness of color so that, when the white boy offered me a ride, I didn't think that he was after me especially because I was dark.
"I was just another girl anxious to lose her virginity and Jerry seemed as good a stud as any other.
"The boy drove up a dirt road outside of town and stopped the car behind a row of tall bushes. He knew that I had accepted his invitation for one reason only so he wasted no time with love talk.
"Jerry started undressing me rapidly. When he tore a button off my blouse I told him to slow down and let me undress myself. I had no sexual hang-ups and looked forward to my first screwing.
"Jerry took off his own clothes and soon the best developed boy and the best developed girl in the local high school were comparing measurements. We both liked what we saw. Jerry had a thick, sturdy sex organ that any grown man would be proud to own.
"I didn't have much time to admire it because he plowed it inside my body in a matter of seconds. I lay back on the front seat of the car as the large bodied football player screwed his meat in between my legs.
"Although he was well endowed and I was a virgin I didn't feel that pain I thought I was supposed to experience. In school girls always talked about sex and the first sexual experience was our most discussed subject.
"Actually a lot of kids lied about the affairs they were supposed to have had but it was still interesting to listen to. I had lied myself and was believed because I was about the most sought after piece of tail in school.
"Now I was having an experience I didn't have to lie about. Jerry, the white football player, rutted into me like a hog in heat. His body was hard all over but his penis seemed to be a heavy iron bar as he banged away.
"Being a normal, healthy, red blooded American girl, I enjoyed every stroke of the boy's dong and grunted with appreciation as he let his orgasm go. Uncle Walter had squirted his middle aged juice all over my bunghole, but this sixteen year old stud poured a young, virile flood into my slit that made it seem like a droplet.
"'That feels so good!' Jerry sighed like the healthy animal he was.
"I grunted my agreement and my sex life really went into second gear after that. I kept seeing Jerry and our affair was the talk of the school not so much that we were black and white but just that we were a couple of kids screwing around.
"My affair with Jerry lasted until graduation day. When he shipped himself off to the Navy, I cried over him.
"I went to college for a year but dropped out when I had the urge to travel. My parents didn't like it so they cut off the money supply and I was on my own. I wasn't lonely because men were always trying to get me into their beds.
"But I didn't want to spend my nights and days screwing because I had a brain as well as a body. I was also very interested in politics and helped back a handsome white man who was running for mayor. He was a liberal which meant that it helped his image to have a lot of blacks hanging around his office.
"Being a man with an eye for women he was careful to select the prettiest girls for his personal staff. That's how my big trouble started with Donald.
"Donald was forty when I met him which may sound old for me but he was slim and very handsome and I soon forgot about the fact that he could be my father ... if my father were white.
"He was running against an old goat who should've retired long ago and, with the blacks of the city backing him, he managed to sweep into the mayor's office with a landslide victory.
"Because Donald knew that he had the blacks to thank for his victory he put as many as he could on his staff. He drew from the ranks of those who had been with him all along and I was surprised when he wanted me to be his private secretary.
"There were over a dozen girls, white and black, who were more qualified but I soon found out why he had singled me out for this most intimate of jobs.
"All during the run for mayor, Donald had kept his dong under control because he didn't want to create any complications. But, once he reached his goal, he felt he could relax a little. Donald, I felt, was even sexier than he looked.
"The mayor had an attractive wife and four beautiful children but he was the kind of man who could never get enough of a good thing and, to him, sex was the best thing of all. I was working for him for less than a week as his private secretary when he started giving me those little feels around my ass and boobs.
"I didn't mind and smiled at him to show that he could go all the way if he wanted to. How many chances does a black girl get to screw a mayor?
"City Hall closed late one night and Donald offered to drive me home. Once the entire place emptied out except for a couple of security guards the mayor really turned on the steam. He pressed his body against mine and said, 'You must have a lot of boyfriends, Shirley.'
'"I've had my share,' I admitted.
'"One of them will probably steal you away from me and then where will I be?' he added and rubbed his hand over my bare arms. I could feel his engorged dong pressing against my body.
"All I had to do was give him the slightest bit of encouragement and he would be mine. The prospect interested me so I shoved my body against his.
"Donald go the not too subtle hint and he grabbed my behind with both hands and kissed me hard on the mouth. I was actually going to be screwed at City Hall by the handsome and popular mayor!
"He undid my dress and helped me to remove it. Then he took off my bra and panties. 'What a body!' he exclaimed when he gazed at my dusky flesh. 'Shirley, you were made to be made!'
"I agreed with him and the mayor, my boss, hurried out of his own clothes. He was well built and his dick stood straight up ready for love. Donald pressed aginst me once more and grabbed my buttocks again.
"He seemed to have a passion for rear ends. He kissed me on the lips and brought me down to the floor. The rug was thick and soft so it wasn't unpleasant or untidy.
"Donald shoved his rod deep into my cleft and pumped. I thought of all the important figures who had appeared in the office and wondered what they would think if they saw their highly respected mayor screwing his black secretary.
"He rammed and rammed with increasing speed and I started to moan in delight. My nipples turned to hard rocks and they probed up against his skin. Donald ran his hands up and down along my sides as he plowed away trying to get as much of me as he could at the time.
"He knew how to hold back his orgasm so that he pumped away for long, exciting minutes. Then he let loose. His juice flew into my body in a hot stream and we both groaned with ecstasy at once.
"'Shirley,' he whispered with his mouth against my ear, 'I hope you aren't the talkative type.'
'"If you're afraid I'll tell, Mr. Mayor,' I assured him, 'you don't have to be. You know how loyal I've been.'
"He ran the tip of his tongue inside my ear. 'Call me Donald,' he said. 'Of course, you'll still have to call me Mr. Mayor when we're in public.'
"So now I was on a first name basis with the attractive mayor who had a great political future. There was no telling how far he was going to go. He might even have gone to the Senate ... and I was going to go along with him. And my parents thought I'd never amount to much because I dropped out of college.
"You can't say I was Donald's mistress because I still worked for a living as his secretary. The mayor did, however, say I could hire another girl to help me ... a sort of secretary's secretary ... so I picked a homely white girl. Knowing how quick Donald was with his pecker I didn't want him to start spreading his wealth around.
"The white girl was very good and I kept giving her more and more work so that I could have more time with Donald. I was mainly for show, anyhow; something black to show the black voters.
"Before long all I did was have to answer the phone a couple of times a day while my white girl did all the work. I had never been racially aware before but it did feel good to have a white girl work under me for a change.
"I wasn't Donald's only chick but I made it my business to be his favorite. I did this by pulling no stops sexually. There wasn't a thing the mayor wanted that I refused to do.
"One night he said he wanted to Greek my can. 'I've always been mad for behinds,' he said, 'but women usually can't take it up the crapper. My wife won't even let me try.'
"The last time a man had fooled around with my butt was back when I was twelve years old and my uncle had squirted cream all over my bunghole. Men and boys were usually satisfied with my slit but the handsome mayor wasn't easy to satisfy.
"We both took off our clothes in the office once more. City Hall was actually the safest place for us to screw because we both had a good excuse for being there. Donald couldn't come to my place and I couldn't come to his so that left us with the soft, thick rug in the mayor's office.
"When I stretched out on it this time I went belly down. Donald stood above me and pushed his foot in between my butt halves. He had all kinds of little sexual kinks. He then knelt on the rug next to my hips and rubbed his hands fast and hard over my behind.
"'Shirley,' he sighed, 'you have the loveliest ass in the world!'
"The mayor spread my butt halves and he really shocked me when he started to lick my rear opening. For a guy who gave such a wonderful image he sure did have another side, one that he showed very few people.
"Donald licked both of my butts until they were damp. He spread them once more and pushed the head of his pecker against my hole. I sucked in my breath because it hurt. After all, I was still an anal virgin.
"The mayor edged his meat into me slowly and I grabbed the rug for support. He placed his entire body on top of mine once he got half of his sex organ into my anal passage and kept inching forward.
"It felt like a hot poker and yet it was thrilling. I had never been screwed in such a fashion and sex, of all kinds, was my chief interest.
"He pushed the entire length of his penis into my anus and started to withdraw it. When he was halfway out he couldn't hold back his sperm any longer and he let loose. The fluid rained into my passageway and I clutched at the rug in agony and ecstasy.
"The mayor lay on top of my can with his meat well into my body as he poured out his lust. He kept himself in that same position until his penis grew soft. When he slipped out of my flesh he rolled over on his back and looked at me with dewy eyes.
"'Shirley,' he sighed, 'you have enough sex for five women. You're the only one who never cried bloody murder when I Greeked her.'
"I didn't tell him that I had come very close to begging him to stop. For my first anal reaming I had managed to survive the experience pretty well. Now the mayor knew where to go to for all those weird sexual needs of his.
"Donald's desire for Greek love didn't prevent him from doing it in the old fashioned American way. Both of us really gave that rug a workout. Each time I saw some big shot walk across it in the daytime, I couldn't help thinking of what he would say if he caught the mayor there in the saddle with a black girl at night. Donald lived two lives and I occupied both of them.
"And then I missed my period for the first time. A doctor confirmed the fact that I was going to have a baby, and, since Donald had been the only man in my life for the past few months, he had to be the father.
"No man liked to have his girlfriend tell him that he had knocked her up and Donald had special reasons not to be pleased with the announcement. Not only was he white and married to another woman, but he had an important career to think of.
"If the public discovered that their idol had been using City Hall for a love nest, Donald would be ruined.
"I kept hoping that I would have a miscarriage and have the problem end before it became known but I was a healthy lump of a girl and the baby inside me grew rapidly. Finally I had to tell Donald.
"I picked a time when we were alone at City Hall and he was getting ready for another roll on the rug. When I said I was going to have a baby, his movie star face became chalk white. 'Who ... who is the father?' he asked as if hoping I could blame another.
'"You know who the father is, Donald,' I told him quietly.
"His chalk white face trembled with rage. 'Damn it! Don't you take the pill? I thought you knew enough to take care of yourself.'
"I told him that I had been screwing around for years without the pill and thought that I was barren. Now it looked like this was a false notion. Mother Nature had played a trick on me by getting me to believe I wasn't able to have a baby and then springing this little bastard on me.
"Mother Nature just had to be a white woman who belonged to the K.K.K.
"Once Donald got over the shock his mind started working again. 'You'll have an abortion, of course,' he announced. 'I know just the doctor. He's no dirty handed quack but a real doctor who has performed the operation before and knows how to keep quiet. Now, I'll make all the arrangements and...'
'"What are you talking about?' I asked. 'You act as if I have no say in the matter. After all, it's my baby as well as yours and I don't want to murder it.'
"His eyes narrowed, suspicious of my intentions. 'Shirley, don't be difficult,' he said. 'Abortions go on all the time. It isn't murder but good sense. A half-breed child will make life miserable for both of us.'
'"You know I won't tell anyone you're the father,' I assured him. 'Let the baby live. All you have to do is give me a little extra for his support and ... '
'"So that's it!' he screamed. 'You're shaking me down!'
"I had never seen Donald so angry before and it scared me. 'I said a little extra for his support,' I told him. 'Don't get the idea I want to make money off of you. If you don't want to support your own child then forget it. I'll walk out of your life and have the baby alone.'
"Donald's eyes became slits. He was certain that I only wanted the baby so I had something to hold over his head. All those intimate moments we had shared in the office meant nothing now that he was fighting for his political life.
"I could understand his feelings but, what I couldn't forgive Donald for was the cold blooded way he talked about murdering his own unborn child. I know that I've given you the impression that I'm a wild swinger but I do draw the line somewhere and child murder is the place.
"While it is true that abortions are very common it still didn't mean they were not murders. I wasn't going to add my baby to that pile of little corpses.
"When I made my feelings known to Donald, he realized I couldn't be budged. He became so depressed that he forgot about the love feast he had been priming himself for and told me to leave the office.
"As a matter-of-fact, he didn't put his hand on me again after that. The mayor avoided me as much as he could and the life seemed to have gone out of him just as it was growing inside of me. His voters noted the change and wondered if he were sick.
"Donald had always been a great man with crowds but he withdrew from them and snapped at everyone he came into contact with. He had the paranoid belief that I was planning to shake him down with the threat to end his career in politics.
"Suddenly Donald became friendly again and offered to drive me home. I thought he had become convinced that I was a straight girl who would not betray him and hoped that the old fires of our love could be rekindled.
'"Let's not go to your place right away,' he said once he got me in the car. 'Let's drive around for awhile. We have lots to talk about.'
"He could say that again and I waited for him to bring up the subject of our baby. Donald talked about everything but the child and I assumed he was trying to lead to topic A in a round about fashion. Then he said, 'Shirley, have you picked a doctor yet for the baby?'
"When I told him I hadn't he answered that he knew just the man and he drove out to this house in the suburbs. I thought it strange that he would suddenly change his mind about the child and take me to see a doctor in the middle of the night.
"When we went inside the house, Donald introduced me to a nice looking man in his sixties who had all kinds of degrees hanging on the wall. Donald said he wanted the doctor to examine me and he stepped out of the room.
"The man told me he wanted to take a blood sample but, instead of drawing blood when he stabbed a needle into my arm, he shot in some fluid. I went out like a light immediately before I could understand what was happening.
"When I awoke there was a dull pain in the lower half of my body. I found myself on a bed. There was a bunch of flowers next to me with a card that read: 'This is the best way.' There was no signature. Naturally, Donald didn't want to incriminate himself. He had taken me to an abortionist against my will.
"I could have made trouble for him out of spite, but that wouldn't lead anywhere. Donald could always deny everything. It was easier to deny any abortion than a half breed child with his blood type.
"The mayor gave me five thousand dollars but he didn't call it hush money. He told me he always gave it to his favorite employees when they left City Hall. I hadn't said anything about quitting work but I got the idea that I was being fired in an expensive way.
"I haven't seen the mayor since except on television when he makes one of his speeches. He is back into his old style again but only I and the abortionist knows why. I've never told this story to anyone else, but you so far and you've already claimed that you won't mention the name of the city Donald is the mayor if, so he still won't be hurt by it. But I don't want to hurt anyone.
"I used to think I had a touch of nymphomania in my relations with men, but I haven't even kissed another man since that awful abortion. I have dogs for company and that satisfies me.
"I'm working for an industrial firm as a secretary, but, thankfully, to a cranky old man who has given up sex. Maybe I'll give it up myself some day. Sex is trouble."
Diagnostic reaction:
Although Shirley had never been the victim of discrimination she is bothered by the question that, if she had been white, would Donald have insisted on an abortion? Would he have been willing to accept an illegitimate child if it were all white?
For the first time in her life, Shirley is facing the problem of racial discrimination, not so much for herself, but for the baby she wanted to have and which was taken from her.
This experience was such a shock to the girl that she finds she is unable to love again, which is a tragedy to someone with such a great capacity for passion and life.
The irony of the situation is that, if Shirley had been white, she would have been more-likely to accept an abortion without it being thrust upon her.
According to Basil Davidson, in his book, BLACK MOTHER, the reason that there is such a high rate of illegitimacy in the black community is that Negro females have far fewer abortions than white women. While white females have just as high a rate of pre-marital pregnancies, they tend to resolve their problems via abortions instead allowing the children to live.
When Shirley defended her right to have the mayor's illegitimate baby she was reacting as most black girls would being in the same position. And, when Donald insisted that she have an abortion, she considered this an act of murder.
I feel that, eventually, Shirley will love again and will not seek out black men exclusively as other tormented Negro girls have done after a broken love affair with whites.
At the time of the interview she was still emotionally numb from the enforced abortion which caused her more mental wounds than physical ones. When these scars become less ugly she will return to her former passionate style of living once more but, this time, she will be careful not to become impregnated by a man who would with the death of her child.
CHAPTER FOUR...
WINNIE
The subject is a registered nurse who is working in a large hospital in Los Angeles. She is twenty-eight years old and lives alone in an apartment close to her job which was where this interview took place.
"I was born and brought up in the Watts district not too far from here. When riots broke out there not too long ago, the casualties were brought to the hospital I worked in. I felt that I was a nurse on a battlefield rather than in a large city in America.
"Each time a new victim was brought into the emergency room I realized that I could be the one lying on that operating table if I hadn't made myself go through nursing school for three years.
"By the way, I'm a registered nurse and not a practical one. There is a world of difference. A practical does menial jobs and is given just enough training to clean out bed pans while a registered nurse goes through years of college level study. "I'm one of the few black registered nurses in the hospital and L'm often mistaken for a practical. This can be understood because all of them are black. When a white girl goes into nursing it is always at the better paying, more prestigious registered level.
"In my ten years of schooling and nursing I haven't seen one white practical. Practical nursing is considered nigger work.
"I suppose I sound like one of those militants that always make the news. I'm not. I'm just a tired black woman sick of color.
"When I first started in nursing school the teachers always made an issue of pointing me out as a 'credit to my race' because I was trying to 'better' myself. The teachers meant well but they never knew just how condescending they sounded.
"How is it that you never hear of a white being a credit to his race? And, weren't all those white girls who were training with me trying to
'better' themselves, too?
"At least half the girls I went through nursing school with have either married or taken up other occupations. Still, nursing is considered an old maid's job because there are so many unmarried females in it.
"I'm twenty-eight which isn't exactly old, but my chances of finding the right man get slimmer every year. Of course, I can always get a lover. There are certain types of men who are drawn to nurses. These are the leaners, the ones who are always looking for someone to take care of them.
"Hell, I'd like to be taken care of for a change. After nursing all day or night I'm ready to have someone hold my hand and ask how I feel.
"In nursing school I created an awkward social problem because, when my white friends threw parties, they didn't know if they should invite a black male or not, to keep me company. Besides, the only black men they knew were middle-aged porters and almost all of them were married.
"Usually my white girl friends simply invited me without trying to balance out the black male-female ratio. The white fellows I met at the parties were friendly enough, but few wanted my telephone number. When I did give it out I was rarely called.
"One of the few rare calls came from a boy I fell in love with. His name was George and he was an intern. He came from a hard-working family that made all the sacrifices to put him through med school and he felt he owed them something.
"One of the things he felt he owed them was a good marriage, which quickly left me out. His family didn't spend years of savings just so that their boy would marry a nigger. George never put this in so many words, but I knew what the score was.
"George eventually married well and he is now in practice in Beverly Hills. If he had married me he would be doing charity work in Watts. In a way I'm glad he never proposed, because I would always feel guilty about ruining his career in medicine.
"A doctor with a nigger wife will have trouble making the important social scene that is required to build up a practice in a place like Beverly Hills.
"Still, my lack of romance didn't bother me so much in nursing school because I was always kept so busy learning. When I graduated I, as a freshly-minted nurse, was put on night duty, which, in itself, narrow a girl's love life down.
"Double shifts also left little or no time for romantic encounters on the outside ... but there was still the inside of the hospital.
"When I was placed on a ward with adult male patients, all of whom were white, I enjoyed the banter between them and the medical staff at first. Then some of them treated me as if I were some kind of part-time prostitute and would think nothing of exposing their genitals when they didn't have to.
"Men who were well able to wash themselves would throw back the covers and reveal their naked bodies with the demand that I clean them. I would have accepted this as something every pretty young nurse had to bear up with, except that these men only picked on me and the other black nurses.
"They treated the practicals with equal disrespect, and I suppose, they couldn't tell the difference between a registered and a practical. To them a nigger was a nigger.
"The white doctors weren't much better and they couldn't seem to get the idea that a black nurse was as good as one of their own kind. They were so used to looking down at the poor, black practicals that they treated me in the same fashion.
"In the operating room, where the only color I showed was the part of my face which was not covered by a surgical mask, I discovered that, even in a life-death emergency, doctors preferred white nurses. As soon as a doctor saw that small band of dark color above the surgical mask he either took over my duties or explained them to me in such a slow, careful way that indicated he had little trust in my abilities.
"I had to be the very best nurse in this hospital before I was accepted for myself.
It was hard enough for me to bear the slings and arrows of racial misfortune from staff and patients alike, but I also had to bear the burden of unwanted sexual overtures.
"A doctor who considered himself quite a catch because he was handsome and still single, enjoyed making advances to me when we were alone. He thought it a sport to chase a black girl after all the white ones he not only chased but caught.
"The fact that he had the same cavalier attitude to women of his own race as he had toward me made him easier to take, but I still couldn't stand him.
"One night, after I had assisted him on the ward, John invited me out for coffee. This was not unusual, so I accepted. But, instead of leading me into the coffee shop, John led me over to his car, an expensive sports model. 'That coffee they serve in the shop is piss,' he said with his typical sense of delicacy. 'I know a better place.'
"Since my shift was over, I sat next to him in the car fully expecting that he had more on his mind than a good cup of coffee. But, at that moment, I was in such a blue state that I needed something to excite me and a wrestling match with the biggest wolf in the hospital might be just it.
"John drove to his apartment house and parked in the garage under the building. 'I thought we were going for coffee?' I said when he stepped out of the car.
'"We are, in my place,' he explained. 'I make the best coffee in town.'
"I had expected him to drive out to some lover's lane where he would try to screw me and I would fend him off, but this was a bit more serious. In the wolf's lair I was one black lamb who had lost her way.
"Yet, I still went along with him. I knew that I was nothing but a piece of ass to him but it was something to be something to someone. That's the low state I was in that night. I was so desperate for attention that I was even willing to accept it from John, a man who considered anyone with a slit between her legs as fair game.
"I went up in the elevator with him and I could see how easy it was for him to get girls in and out of his apartment. No one else stepped into the elevator on its ride to his floor.
"John led me over to his apartment and unlocked the door. My heart began to pound faster. Sex hung heavily in the air like a living, hot and humid thing.
"As soon as the doctor closed the door behind us he switched on the lights. He was showing off his elegant lay-out, of course, but he had it to brag about. With soft music, the right amount of liquor, and the slightest erotic overture, any girl would wind up on her back in the apartment within minutes.
"When John actually did turn on a record player and offer me wine instead of coffee, I felt a damp pressure between my legs. I had been denying myself for so long I figured that I was due for a little screwing. Hell, I was a woman, after all.
"When I took the wine out of John's hand I knew I was as good as laid. I thought of all the other nurses, models, airline stewardesses and what-not he had had in the apartment and I was sure that, with his wide range of experience, black girls were not unknown to him.
"John sat down next to me on the sofa and patted my hand. 'You're a handsome woman, Winnie," he said. 'I'm sure you've got a whole line of studs over in Watts.'
'"Why Watts?' I complained. 'Don't you think that I can have male friends in other parts of L.A.? '
"He smiled in his smooth way. 'Well, honey, I didn't know that you dug Whitey,' he said.
"The bastard had only said that to get exactly that reaction. I was too tired to fight off another racial slur so I let it pass. After we finished a couple of glasses of wine John turned off all the lights which, in a way, made us the same color.
"He was becoming easier to take. All he had to do was reach out and grab me.
"The young doctor said he wanted to rub my feet and he took off my shoes. He told me to stretch out on the sofa and I did, with my feet in his lap. His hands felt wonderful as he massaged. I had to be exciting him in the same manner, because his penis began to erect under the heels of my bare feet.
"Well, I thought, what was a little sex between co-workers even if they were of different races?
"The doctor opened his pants and he placed his stiff dick between my bare feet. I didn't pull my feet away, but allowed him to roll his erect penis back and forth with my soles and heels. He paused briefly to take off his clothes, all the time leaving my feet in his lap.
"When he was completely naked he slipped alongside me. The sofa was narrow and he held me fast so that I wouldn't fall off onto the floor. 'Winnie, let's see what you black broads are made of,' he breathed.
'"We're made like white broads,' I told him. 'As a doctor and lover you should know that.'
"'But I don't,' he confessed. 'You're the first colored girl I've ever had up here.'
"So, I had been right all along. Curiosity rather than passion had lit his fires. He wanted to see what it was like to screw a nigger. In the midst of intimacy I couldn't escape racialism.
"I felt insulted but I was not inclined to move. The music was soft and low, the wine was warm and mellow, and I was primed for anything.
"When the doctor started to undo my white nurse's uniform, I helped him. Soon we were both naked and lying side-by-side on the narrow sofa. John created more room by getting on top of me. He rubbed the smooth head of his thick sex organ over my slit and thrilled me with this first really sexual touch.
'"Winnie, your pussy feels like any white girl's,' he said with almost detached interest as if viewing a bug on a slide.
"Was he kidding me or was he so stupid as to believe that Negro females were sexually different? Perhaps he was only attempting to get another rise out of me as he had done before. If that were the case I refused to play his game and remained silent.
"The doctor waited for a moment as if for some kind of reply. When it didn't come, he edged his tube of sex deeper into my hairy cleft. He was well endowed, I had to say that much for him. A man with his lack of personal charm needed all the help he could get and a large pecker was an important plus for him.
"Not only did John have a good-sized dick, he knew how to use it. He pushed the long, hard bulk of his meat inside my body to its full length. Instead of pulling up again, he lay on top of me and kissed me with his open mouth. We French-kissed with our tongue going wild.
"John moved up again slowly and then rammed down into me hard. 'Oh, you feel so warm and juicy!' he gasped as he broke our open-mouthed kiss.
"He rose and fell into me again and again. I slipped my hands over his back and buttocks as he screwed with virile heat. John continued screwing rapidly until he lay on top of me still once more. This time he shot his load. His male fluid squirted into my flesh and I moaned.
"The young doctor lay on top of me until he emptied out his juice. As soon as the last drop drained away, he got off my body and switched on the lights. This sudden change from darkness made me close my eyes abruptly. I couldn't understand why he wanted to ruin such a romantic mood ... if he had been in a romantic mood.
"Oddly enough, with all his show of virile force, the doctor was still regarding me as an interesting erotic specimen and no more. He looked down at my naked body with a small smile playing around the corners of his mouth and a leer burning in his eyes.
'"Your skin is like black velvet,' he said using a rare compliment.
"I looked at his pale nakedness. 'Your skin is like a bedsheet,' I told him.
"He laughed dryly. 'Can't get away from the hospital entirely, huh? I guess you could've said my skin was like a bedpan.'
"The doctor poured a couple of glasses of wine and sat on the sofa with my legs across his lap. His penis was now limp and resting. As I sipped the wine he rubbed one of his hands up between my legs until he reached my vagina. Then, without further ado, he spread the lips of my sexual opening wide and poured his glass of wine inside.
"The liquid burned my recently used erotic passage but John placed his mouth against my opening and started to lap the wine out of my body. I spread my legs so he could have more room in which to work out his oral advance.
"John sucked my cleft hard and lapped his tongue over my pubic hair. Then he slipped two of his fingers inside my opening and teased me into further excitement. Although his actions did arouse me sexually, he still went about it like a man giving a vaginal examination rather than performing an act of lust.
"I could not get over the idea that he would've been warmer if I had been white. As a black girl, though, I was a unique bug under glass to play with.
"No matter what my impression of John's love-making was I still didn't try to stop him. There had never been much love in my life and I was willing to take it where I could find it. I fell pleasantly wicked stretched out on the sofa with my legs spread and a naked white man paying attention to my cleft with his penis, mouth and fingers. I was only a nurse, not a saint in a starched uniform.
"I drank more wine and so did John, in his special way. He poured another glass over my breasts this time and the liquor burned my tender nipples. As before, the good doctor come to my aid by sucking them and lapping my breasts with his ever-busy tongue.
"John put me in such a mellow mood that I wanted to spend the entire night with him, but he told me he had an appointment later on. We dressed and went down in the elevator. The doctor drove me to my apartment, and just before he let me out of the car, he said, 'That was interesting. We should do it again some time.'
"Interesting. That was the word he chose. He didn't say that our affair had been wonderful or exciting or passionate, but, rather, interesting.
"Again I felt like one of his experiments back at the lab. I wasn't a woman who loved a man but a black thing from outer space who had fallen to earth and was examined rather thoroughly.
"I would have still returned to John's apartment for another session of screwing and sucking but he had the nastiest habit of bragging about his sexual conquests. It wasn't long before the entire hospital knew, both medical staff and patients, that I enjoyed making it with white men.
"While I hated having the affair talked about, John enjoyed it thoroughly. Almost out of desperation to stop the idea that I had some great need for white flesh, I started dating Amos, a black attendant. He was about fifteen years older than I was, but at least he was single.
"It wasn't long before I found out why Amos was single. He was a leaner, a man who depended on others for everything. At first I started picking up dinner checks and paying for movie tickets when he claimed he was 'short' that week. Then he claimed he needed a place to stay the night because he was being kicked out of his own room for non-payment.
"Like a fool, I let him stay with me. I made a place for him on the couch, but during the night he slipped in beside me. He woke me up with his roaming hands. I wanted to tell him to leave my bed, but lonely as always, I let him have his way with my body.
"Amos mounted me and rammed in his large sex organ. As he pumped, I spread my legs wide and dug my fingers into his back. He was strangely soft and flabby and his flesh left me cold. I wondered how I had ever gotten so intimate with a man I didn't like. But then, I hadn't liked John either.
"The black man shot his juice and groaned with self satisfaction. Men always were so pleased with themselves once they achieved an orgasm. 'I did it good, baby,' he told me as a statement of fact. 'Why do you want to mess with Whitey?'
"I tensed suddenly. All the desire I had in my body swiftly vanished. This was the first time he had ever mentioned that now well-publicized affair with John. 'Don't talk about it,' I told him coldly.
"Amos ignored my request even though he was using my money, my apartment, my bed and my body. He felt he had paid for all this with a few drops of warm sperm. 'Black women belong with black men,' he said. 'You don't want to be a white man's whore.'
"I pushed him off my body. 'I don't want to be anyone's whore,' I told him and left the bed.
"Amos lay back playing with his limp tube of meat that lay against his body like a dark snake on a dark beach. 'Baby, them whites don't know how to screw,' he said. 'You saw how good I was.'
"The man's ego stunned me. Actually John had been much more sexual than he had. I know that there is a myth that black men have superior sexual powers but that just isn't so. Take it from a girl who has had both races.
"Yet Amos seemed to believe the myth even though his erotic abilities were limited. On top of everything else, he took it for granted that I would be willing to pay him for his sexual favors. While he claimed I had been a whore to a white man, he was being a whore to me.
"Once Amos got into my apartment I couldn't get rid of him. He stopped going to work and claimed he was going to look for something 'better'. He already found something better ... me. He was the typical leaner who knew where a soft spot was and he lay down on it with his full weight.
"Still, Amos served a purpose. The hospital now talked about the fact that I was shacking-up with a black man. This took people's attention away from my one-night stand with John.
"The doctor seemed pleased that I had taken on a 'lover' and patted my fanny when we were alone one day. 'I'm glad you got a guy, Winnie,' he told me. 'I was worried about you. A girl with your body needs servicing all times.'
"Servicing. The doctor certainly had a way with words. He made me feel like a car going in for a lube job.
"Like all leaners, Amos became increasingly demanding. He kept asking me for more and more money, and when I stopped giving him all the cash he wanted, he took to beating me. You'd be surprised how many black men need to show their manhood by beating up their women.
"The practical nurses were always coming in with swollen eyes and bruises. And now I was showing up to work the same way.
"When Amos beat me up one day and took my entire paycheck, I decided to draw the line on the bastard once and for all. I called the police and had him arrested for assault and robbery. The police took it as just another nigger complaint, but Amos still went to jail for a few months.
"He promised to beat me up again once he got out, but if he does, I'll have him arrested again.
Too many black women forgive their men and go on being punching bags. I'm not that hard-up for male companionship.
"Right now I have no one in my life and feel happier that way. I suppose, after awhile, I'll take on another man. I might even go back to John because he keeps trying to invite me out for 'coffee'.
"Other doctors and patients also try to date me because I have the reputation as a swinger who doesn't care about the color of the men she screws. A swinger? I had one night with a white man who treated me like a bug and two months with a black man who treated me like a punching bag.
"The truth is that few nurses in the hospital live lonelier lives than mine. But they'll never believe it. As a young, attractive black woman they are sure I have men of all ages and colors trooping through my bedroom at all hours of the day or night.
"Some times I feel I should have stayed in Watts."
Diagnostic reaction:
The nurse wants to go back to Watts, the black ghetto of Los Angeles, because she finds her present life too confusing. Troubled people often look back towards the past from the torments of the present and the problems of the future.
Although her life had been difficult in Watts and she knew, via the riots that had taken place there that it hadn't changed, Winnie considers it better than what she has now. While she is living in a much better apartment and earning a good salary, she has not become happier.
Kenneth B. Clark, in his book, DARK GHETTO, tells of a number of blacks who returned to places like Watts, not because they failed in business, but because they failed in love.
In a ghetto they do not feel out-of-place because of their color and they know they will not have the problems that are caused by interracial affairs. Ghettos are populated by people of the same racial or ethnic strain.
Winnie resents the fact that she had been driven into the arms of a black man she didn't like, to show her fellow hospital workers she hadn't become a lover of Whitey because she spent a few sexual hours with a white man.
If she had been white herself she could've taken the gossip in stride, but, as a black person, she had to prove that she did not hate her own race because of the affair.
Franklin Frazier, in his book, BLACK BOURGEOISE, states that it is a secret fear of middle-class blacks to be thought of as Uncle Toms by blacks in the lower income groups simply because they no longer live in Negro ghettos.
To prove that they are still loyal to their race, these middle-class blacks sometimes go out of their way to show they are not dependent on whites financially and emotionally.
The quickest way to show this is by rejecting the friendships of whites and associating, socially and sexually, with their own kind. This is what Winnie did when she took Amos on as a lover after the gossip spread in the hospital that she was a sexual slave to Whitey.
Eventually the nurse will mature to a point where she will no longer have fears about what either the whites or blacks think and fall in love with anyone she wants to. Winnie realizes that love in both communities is difficult enough to find.
CHAPTER FIVE...
ROSE
The subject is a twenty-two year old switchboard operator who is employed by an electronics firm in Detroit. She is somewhat plump and very dark. This interview took place in the front seat of my car because she didn't want to bring me to her room which was in a black ghetto.
"Man, if my neighbors saw me bringing a white fellow up to my pad I'd be ruined. They would get the idea that I was hustling my ass and peg me as a whore. Now I'm a hard working girl and I get my money with sweat rather than pussy. It's just as easy to talk into this tape machine right here on the front seat of your car anyhow.
"There are a lot of blacks in Detroit but not many work for the same place I do. The head man says he'd hire blacks if they were only qualified as electronic engineers. He does hire a lot of Orientals, though, so this proves he isn't racial.
"The reason I'm at the switchboard is to give people the idea that there are a lot more blacks in the place than there really are. I have a slight Negro accent, you see, so, when someone calls, they hear my voice and this gives them the impression there are black faces all over the joint.
"In Detroit a firm cannot afford to give any other impression because of the large black community.
"I make a good salary and I can't kick. For a girl who barely got through high school I'm doing a hell of a lot better than most blacks. I'm saving most of my money to buy into real estate eventually.
"That's where the money is. The value of the dollar may go down but real estate is good and solid; the best investment you can make. I'm no lazy nigger; I have ambitions. One of these days I'll have people working for me.
"You might call me the white sheep of the family. My father was a lazy ass who stole welfare checks. He kept going to jail but I don't think he minded because he always got free meals and a place to stay. That's all some men want.
"When I told you that I barely got through high school I didn't mean that I was stupid. I just didn't have time to sudy because, besides school, I put in thirty hours a week at a local supermarket nearby. My family needed every cent I could earn.
"I was turned off the idea of marriage very early when I saw how my father treated my mother. I made up my mind that I wouldn't let any man take advantage of me like that. If I wanted sex I would have it but I sure as hell wouldn't marry for it.
"When I was fifteen I lost my cherry to a black stud who lived on the floor below mine. He was a handsome cat who was only a year older than I was but mature for his age. Where I come from you can be old at ten.
"Cole was his name and he beat up anyone who called him Black Cole. He was very dark, even darker than I was. I guess that's why I liked him. I couldn't stand those high-yellow cats who pretended that they were Indians and part white.
"Well, maybe they were but they didn't have to brag about it. They made it sound like they were ashamed of being black. Cole took me into his room after his parents were out of the house. He said we only had an hour or so to be alone in so we should take advantage of it.
"We took off our clothes and the boy pushed my tits up with both hands. 'You've got woman-sized boobies,' he told me and then sucked each of my nipples.
"At the age of fifteen I was well developed. Right now I'm overly developed but I think I'll keep myself like this. People are too fat conscious these days and, besides, I feel more comfortable with a little extra weight.
"I'm not only proud of my color, I'm proud of my weight. Pride, that's what it takes to get places these days. It seems I went off the subject a bit.
"I was telling you about this sixteen year old black cat who was going down on my tits. Cole sucked both of my breasts and then brought me into his bed. His dong stood up like a dark iron rod and he pushed it into my cleft.
"He sank all the way into my body and then-was some pain as he tore through my virginity. At the age of fifteen most girls in the neighborhood were experienced and now I had joined the ranks.
"The stud breathed excitedly as he thrust into my sex. I could feel his heart pounding wildly against one of my breasts. Oh, it was so wonderful as he rammed his big tool into my tool box for the first time.
"I could now understand why some women put up with so much from some men. But, while screwing was nice, I didn't want to lose my head over it and become a walking mat to a stud just because he had that important hunk of meat between his legs.
"Cole pumped away and grunted when he let loose. I pushed up against him as he poured his stuff into me. When we parted both our bodies were moist with sweat. The boy sucked my nipples again until his battery was recharged.
"When his dick got stiff he mounted me for the second time and screwed. Because he had already shot one load it took him a little longer to reach a climax. I didn't mind because it meant he was inside me and thrusting for a longer period.
"When he shot his juice he lay on top of me until his dick became soft and limp. Even then he still lay there. This was a mistake because he used up the entire hour without knowing it and his mother opened the door to the apartment. We tried to get into our clothes but she caught us both naked.
"She called me a tramp, slut, and all kinds of names like that and acted as if I had seduced her boy. My pubic area was bloody and so were the bed covers so I could prove that I had been a virgin.
"The woman went upstairs and brought my mother down. Pretty soon both of them were screaming at one another. My mother called Cole a sex fiend, rapist and a lot of other stuff. While both women went at it tooth and nail, I slipped out of the apartment with Cole. We laughed. It all seemed so funny.
"Since I didn't get knocked up, there was no talk of marriage which was fine with me. Cole was a great stud but I knew he would make a lousy husband. Men can go from woman to woman for sex so why couldn't women go from man to man?
"At the age of fifteen, that's what I planned to do. Marriage, if there was ever going to be one, could wait. I screwed around with a couple of other boys who were willing to marry but I turned them down.
"This rocked them because just about every girl in the neighborhood wanted to marry as soon as possible. Some did marry while still in their teens and I thought they were stupid.
"When a ghetto girl marries a ghetto boy they condemn themselves to poverty for the rest of their lives. When I became eighteen I moved out of my home but not out of the ghetto. I wanted to live on the lowest possible rent and that's why I stayed.
"But some day, I'll get out once I've saved up enough money to buy into the real estate business. I didn't want to work in the ghetto, though, because the good paying jobs were outside it. I went to work for a big department store as a stock girl.
"It was hard work but it paid well enough for a beginner. I would have stayed on except that I saw girls ... white girls ... who had been hired after me going on to better jobs behind the counters.
"When I complained to the manager he told me that, if I didn't like it, I could always quit. Well, I had restroom much pride to stay on knowing that I was being discriminated against so I left. As a single girl with a few bucks saved I could afford to make that change.
"Some older black women with children to support had no other choice but to hang on. The more I saw of them the more I was glad I hadn't tied myself down to a husband and kids.
"I went to work for the electronics firm next and started on the bottom as a stock girl again. I worked my black ass off to show my white employers that they couldn't prevent me from climbing up in the firm because I didn't perform my duties.
"And yet, as before, white girls who had been hired after I had got promotions while I stayed in the stock room. My immediate superior was a white man in his thirties. Hank had a reputation with the girls as a fanny patter and a tit squeezer.
"We all knew that he had been married and divorced twice. Since he was a big, handsome guy not many girls complained about the feels he grabbed. He had never touched me, though, and I didn't know if it was me or my color he didn't like. When I didn't get promoted I assumed it was my color.
"I stormed into the guy's office and demanded to know why I, the best worker in the stock room, was not going on to higher paying jobs. Hank grinned and said, 'Rose, I'm keeping you here because you are such a good worker.'
"He put me off with this compliment and I found myself losing steam. 'Then I'll guess I'll start goofing off,' I told him.
"The man slipped his arm around my shoulder. 'Oh, I wouldn't do that, honey,' he said softly. 'I wouldn't want to fire you.'
"I just didn't know what to make out of Hank. In the department store the manager told me to leave if I didn't like working conditions so this made it easy for me to go my own way. But Hank was using soft soap and sweet talk telling me that he was keeping me on because he liked me.
"And, yet, at the same time, he said he would fire me if I would work less. And there was that arm that was snaking all over my body. This was something that department store manager never tried to do.
"It was strangely exciting being touched so personally by a handsome white man. Being a girl with a low sexual boiling point it didn't take much to heat me up.
"Hank could see that he was thrilling me and his touch became more intimate. He placed his hand over my rear and said, 'Stay after work and we can talk about your promotion. I'm busy right now.'
"I left the office trembling. I had gone in full of fright, but Hank had melted it away with his charm. I didn't know if he was trying to stall me with that promise to talk about a promotion later but I was willing enough to wait and find out.
"When work ended for the day I went back to the office. Hank was seated behind the desk and he smiled when I came in. 'Well, Rose, I understand you have a problem?' he said.
'"I've already told you about it,' I said. 'I wonder why I'm left back in the stock room while white girls go on to better jobs.'
'"White girls?' he exclaimed. 'Why, Rose, you make it sound like the firm is discriminating against you.'
'"Isn't it?"
'"Of course not! This is an equal opportunity firm which means people of all colors have an equal opportunity to rise and fall on their own merits.'
'"Then why don't I rise? You told me that I was a good worker. And don't tell me that bull about me being so good that you want to keep me here.'
"Hank shook his head and grinned. 'Rose, you hurt me. I can't stand a pretty girl being angry. I'm for making love and not war.'
"He slipped his hands around my waist and gave me a quick kiss on the lips. Outside the working section was very still and quiet since everyone had left. We were alone, a white man and a black girl.
"He kissed me on the lips again only harder and longer. 'There, isn't this better than fighting, Rose?' he wanted to know.
'"Of course it is,' I answered. 'But there is a time and a place for everything and...'
'"For my favorite indoor sport this is the time and this is the place,' he answered, cutting me short. Once more he embraced and kissed me. His hands went all over my body and he started to unbutton my dress. He was actually trying to screw me there in the office!
"I pulled away. 'No,' I told him in a firm voice.
"'Aw, come on now, honey,' he urged. 'Let's be friends. You'll be surprised how much I can help you in this company.'
"I drew in my breath sharply. 'You mean ... if I have sex with you I'll get a promotion?'
"He shrugged. 'Rose, things like that happen all the time.'
"Well, now I knew that Hank didn't have anything against me, personally, outside my color. I wanted to believe that he made all the girls he promoted screw him for their jobs, but, somehow, I couldn't accept that. He was making me screw for a good job because I had a handicap that the other girls didn't have ... a very dark skin.
"Hank ran his sun burnt hands up and down along one of my black arms. 'You feel nice, Rose,' he told me. 'You really turn me on.'
"He placed one of his hands against my crotch and I couldn't help but feel aroused. Yet, I couldn't bring myself to cooperate. I felt like a hooker who had to spread her legs for her daily bread.
'"Suppose I went to the higher ups and complained about you, Hank?' I asked feeling that, all considered, I had the right to use his first name.
"'I'd deny everything,' he answered. 'It would be my word against yours. But, if I put in the right word for you I wouldn't be surprised if you get a cushy job ... like being on the switchboard.'
"The switchboard operator the firm had now was married and five months into her pregnancy. She was planning to quit a few weeks later for good and the company needed another girl.
"The job was not only well paying but had some prestige connected with it since it was the only one like it in the company. The girl who answered the phone was considered to be the 'voice' of the electronics firm.
"Because I knew that I sounded black I doubted that I would get the job. When I told Hank my fears he assured me that he would do everything in his power to see that the firm had a black switchboard operator.
"He said this as he undid my dress. He was a smooth, fast worker. Somehow he reminded me of Cole, that black cat who had one off with my cherry.
"When the white man took off my dress I stood before him in stockings, shoes, panties and bra. My panties and bra were white which made my skin seem even darker. This obviously aroused Hank because he opened up his fly and brought out his penis which was beginning to engorge.
"I watched his male meat stiffen and rise until it stretched up and out a good seven inches. Cole had carried the same size of dick.
"'See how much you turn me on, Rose?' he said. 'My pecker hasn't jumped up like that since I was a kid.'
"He reached out and took off my bra. Then he knelt to remove my stockings and shoes. When he pulled my panties down he kissed my hairy tool box and patted my fanny. 'You sure are a lot of female!' he exclaimed when he stood up. His face was red and upright meat was throbbing with need.
"Hank removed the rest of his clothes. The hair on his chest was light brown with streaks of gray here and there. He had a slight roll of fat around his waist, but, otherwise, he was a fine figure of a man. Although I was going to get laid in order to get ahead I still would've screwed the white man for nothing.
"The fellow embraced me and I felt his erect manhood move against my cleft. I slipped my hands over his rugged body and, in a standing position, he began to inch his meaty tube into my body.
"He grabbed my buttocks for support and rammed the entire length of his dick inside my flesh. I gasped with pain and delight. 'Oh! Oh, Hank!'
"He moved me against his desk so that my can was propped against its edge. He rammed into me again and again, making me bend over so that my slit was forced against his throbbing manhood. I glanced towards the door.
"Suppose someone walked in right now? Hank reminded me so much of my first lover I had the idea that the same situation would repeat itself.
"The door didn't open and the rugged, sun burnt white man kept screwing me until he came. He stopped moving and allowed the juice to pass from his body to mine. We embraced hard and held one another tightly.
"His seven inches became five and then four slowly inside my body. When Hank finally withdrew our skins were damp with sweat. The whole affair reminded me so much of my first that I kissed the white fellow on the lips.
'"You like it as much as I do, right?' Hank asked.
'"I also like to be promoted,' I told him, reminding him of why I was there in the first place.
"He took one of my hands and placed it on his lust damp penis. 'Let me see just how good you are, Rose,' he told me with a thick undertone.
"Hank wanted more sex than just a simple banging. I had been in enough beds to know what men craved for. I took his limp organ in my hand and pulled on it. 'If you're making me do all this for nothing I'll never forgive you,' I whispered.
'"Do it,' he breathed excitedly.
"I slipped to my knees and gazed at his hanging sexual parts. I was used to fellating black boys and the close-up look at his pale penis and testicles shook me. I placed my hands on his sturdy hips and lapped his meat with my tongue. Hank groaned. 'That's it, honey,' he told me. 'Work up to it slowly.'
"I licked his tube of flesh and felt it beginning to react. Then I lifted it in my hand and nibbled lightly on the thick head of his sex organ.
"This delighted the white man. 'Oh, Rose!' he sighed. 'You know how to French a guy!'
"I opened my mouth and took in his male part. Once more I held on to his hips as I sucked. His manhood stiffened and I kept fellating him until his organ became so big and thick I couldn't take more than half its length. Then Hank had a climax.
"When his sperm leapt into me I realized how much alike white and black men were. They not only had the same tastes in sex, they also tasted the same. I mouthed Hank, draining him of his vital fluids, until he had no more left to give. I didn't break contact until he was through and his organ grew limp.
"I stood up and faced him. My nipples were aroused to rigid points and my face burned with lust. Hank's face was scarlet and his eyes were dewy. 'Rose ... Rose ... Rose,' he repeated over and over again with quiet passion.
"I went back to my room in the black district wondering if I had been made a fool of. While Hank was nice and sexy it still didn't make the fact that I had to screw him and mouth him for my promotion any easier.
"And, if I had gone through all that for nothing I would really be peeved to say the least. I couldn't possibly work on in the electronics firm if I was going to stay in the stock room ... not after what happened. There was still my pride to think of.
"I hated the idea of going back to work the next day because I would have to face Hank. I managed to avoid him on the job and hurried on home. The next day he slipped up behind me and patted my fanny. 'Come to my office,' he whispered.
"I thought he was going to make me go through the sex routine again with the promise that the promotion would come in time. He could keep that up for weeks, leading me on and getting mc to do his bidding. I made up my mind not to have sex with him again. I had paid my dues.
"Once inside the office, Hank handed me an envelope. It was a transfer from the stock room to ... the switchboard! I was going to be broken in by the one who was leaving. 'Hank,' I all but cried, 'you really came through!'
"He grinned and shrugged at the same time. 'As I told you, honey,' he said, 'you'd be surprised how much I can help you in this company. When someone does something nice for me I always do something nice in return. Now, come back after work and I'll talk about your promotion.'
"Hank wanted another sexual session as a reward for getting me on the switchboard. Although I had promised myself I wouldn't have anything further to do with him I knew that I was going to give him all the sex he wanted later that day.
"After all, I had made that promise to myself before the promotion came through.
"Work was over soon enough, and I went back to the office. As soon as I closed the door behind me, Hank started to take off his clothes. 'I I In Might you wanted to talk to me,' I teased.
'"Later, honey,' he said impatiently. 'First things first.'
"When he pulled off his shorts his large sex organ all but leaped up at me in virile desire. I didn't want to make the poor man suffer so I stripped down to the buff. The second I was naked, Hank rammed his fleshy rod into my opening and pumped.
"He didn't push me against the desk this time, but, rather, held me firm about the rear for support and thrust with all the passion he had at his command.
"I held on to his rear end the same way and our open mouths met. We French kissed, knowing that the Frenching would get even more serious later on. I was willing to go all out for the white man who actually had gone through with a promise.
"When he spewed his male liquid we stood there facing one another without making a move except for our tongues that played tag in our mouths. Then Hank broke the kiss and whispered in my ear, 'Do it.'
"I went down on my knees and mouthed his still partially erected sex organ. It engorged once again and Hank had another climax. I fellated him to completion and stood up.
'"Thank you, Rose,' he said.
"'And thank you for the job,' I answered.
"Well, that's how the electronics firm got a black voice on the switchboard. In the company Hank now has the reputation as being something of a 'liberal' for convincing the big boss that it would be a nice gesture to hire a Negro for the switchboard since there were so few blacks in anything like an important job. My job isn't really important, but it is for a black girl.
"I'm surprised that no one knows just how I got the job in the first place. Everyone thinks that I got it out of 'tokenism' where a few blacks are put in showcase positions to satisfy militants and Civil Rights groups.
"Maybe that had something to do with it but I know that I had to have my hand in getting the job ... and my ass, and my pussy and my tits.
"I still see Hank now and then even though we are in different parts of the building. Yes, I still have sex with him. It isn't out of gratitude or hopes that I'll get an even better job, but just because I dig him.
"I've been in his apartment just once but never again. After we had finished our inter-racial orgy I had to walk down the all white street with people staring at me through windows. I felt like a freak on display.
"Still, I can't get mad at those white folks because Hank would have an even rougher time in my neighborhood. I, at least, got out with my skin in one piece. If Hank was seen walking out of a black girls's room, he would not make it to the corner without a bunch of studs jumping him for 'insulting' one of their women.
"There's so damned much hate going around these days. That's why I'm talking into your tape recorder here in your car instead of my place or yours. It is in cars, by the way, that I do most of my screwing with Hank.
"We meet at a pre-arranged corner or bar and off we go to love land. Don't get the idea that I'm screwing him to get ahead in the company again; I'm doing it just because I want to and for no other reason."
Diagnostic reaction:
Rose kept making a point of the fact that she is having sexual relations with a white man for love alone because she feels guilty about having had one such erotic meeting for commerce.
In order to assure herself that she is in no way a prostitute the black girl feels driven to continue her relations with Hank to prove to herself that love had been behind that first affair in his office.
While she is drawn to the white man physically, Rose still feels a certain cheapness in her relationship with him. She still thinks of herself as a slave girl who is being used by a white master even though that master is kind.
Charles Woodson, in his study, THE NEGRO IN OUR HISTORY, claims that there is a streak of racial hatred in the most seemingly affectionate inter-racial affair. All through history, white masters have been taking black slave girls for mistresses, little thinking about what these females felt.
To the men they were objects to be used; pets to be played with. Today white men who have black mistresses look upon their girls with pretty much the same attitude.
Rose senses this in Hank and hates him for it, but she still had a need to continue their relationship to prove that it is strictly a romantic affair.
In time Rose will realize that nothing will wash away the fact that she had once had sex with a man in order to get a job she wanted. Once she faces this issue squarely she will drop Hank and will be relieved of this burden of guilt.
In her community she committed the sin of having sex relations with a white for commercial gain. While her community is unaware of it she is and thus the guilt. Even to an open, warm hearted person like Rose, an inter-racial office romance is a difficult road to follow.
CHAPTER SIX...
SANDY
The subject is a slim, willowy nineteen year old office worker with reddish hair, delicate features and a very light complexion. Sandy looks so much like a white girl that she once crossed the color line.
Many Negroes pass as whites each year. Some light skinned children are born to very dark parents who carry racially mixed genes. Sometimes these genes can be passed from generation to generation without coming to the surface until decades later which is true in Sandy's case because both her parents are dark.
The following interview took place in the home Sandy shares with her parents and two younger sisters.
"Both my sisters are as dark as my parents so that I've always felt like the odd girl out. As far back as I can remember I was taken for a white girl which made my social life a rocky one.
"My sisters, who were born after me, always used to tease me about my light coloring and I would react by calling them niggers. My parents did their best to keep the peace but they sometimes slipped and called me 'the ofay' which was a pig-Latin term used in my day meaning 'white foe'.
"My family on both sides have been in America for as long as we can remember which means that my ancestors were slaves. This also meant that there had been some inter-racial breeding way back then because white men always singled out pretty black girls for their pleasure.
"This is where my 'white' features and pale skin comes from. They are reminders of long dead rapes.
"When I went to school I had problems because it was as racially mixed as my genes. I naturally thought of crossing and declaring myself white. Every Negro who was ever born with a light skin and non-Negro features thought the same way.
"But I didn't want to hurt my parents even though I found myself blaming them for my white looks. I lived in a middle class community where blacks and whites got along well so there was no real pressure for me to change from one ethnic group to another.
"If I had been born in a ghetto I probably would've crossed that color line as soon as I was able to see that I could get away with it.
"When I reached my dating age the problem began to get earnest. Although the races got along well enough, inter-racial romances were discouraged. White boys who were new to the school and who were not familiar with my background asked me for dates and I had to refuse.
"I didn't want them to find out later I was really black. When I dated boys of my own race who knew my background, strangers would glare at me in the street. I knew what they were thinking. They were wondering what a 'white' girl was doing with a black.
"I wasn't the only one who was ill at ease. The Negro also felt edgy because there was an element of racial hate even in the most integrated communities.
"I remember the time this black boy took me to a dance. We were both sixteen and had known one another for years. Jerome was dark and clearly a Negro while I looked my usual white self.
"At the dance a drunken white boy I had never seen before tried to dance with me but I refused. 'You're a nigger lover, huh?' he snarled. 'You've been hanging on to the black stud since you came.'
'"I happen to be a Negro myself,' I told him coldly.
"His face contorted into a mask of hate. 'Don't give me that crap!' he shouted. 'You think you're black because you sleep with that nigger!'
"At that moment Jerome came running over. He struck the white boy hard on the jaw and sent him sprawling. This brought two of the white fellow's friends and all three started hitting my date.
"Jerome's friends, both black and white, came to his aid. Girls started to scream as blood appeared on the faces of the fighters. I was so revolted by the whole mess that I ran home.
"I stared into a mirror and a white girl stared back. It was easy to see why I had been mistaken for a white. Even my hair was more red than black. It was for that reason my parents had named me Sandy. As if I hadn't had enough reminders of my whiteness.
"My parents wanted me to go on to college, but, after all those social problems I had had in high school, I wanted to get out into the business world on my own as soon as possible. I also wanted to cross the color line and that would be easier to do when I was far away from home and not dependent on my parents for support.
"I went to San Francisco because I had heard that it was a beautiful city. It was a beautiful city and I spent a week seeing the sights before I knuckled down to the serious business of finding a job.
"I was good at typing and steno so I decided that office work would be the easiest for me to find. There used to be a time when job applicants had to fill in a box listing their race on forms. That was done away with but firms had ways to weed out people they didn't want.
"One way is for the applicant to send in a picture along with the form. I knew I was safe on this score, but, just to be sure, I teased my hair in the 'whitest' fashion and dressed in my 'whitest' clothes.
"I had a bunch of pictures made of myself and picked only those that made me look the 'whitest'. Thus armed I went job hunting.
"I answered an ad along with a large group of other girls just out of high school. At least twenty percent were Negro and I wondered just how many of the 'whites' were really as black as I was.
"The woman who took my application smiled at me. When she asked questions I answered crisply, knowing that I didn't have the slightest trace of a Negro accent.
"I had had the good fortune of being brought up in a well integrated neighborhood and had gone to racially mixed public schools. It was only the poor blacks brought up in ghettos who talked with a Negro accent.
"By the way the woman conducted the interview I could see she liked me. I assumed she was taking me for another white. When a black girl took my seat as soon as I left this same woman sounded curt.
"I didn't know whether or not it was my imagination. It was easy enough to become paranoid when you're a black who is always being taken for a white.
"A few days later I got a letter telling me to report to work. I had been hired for my first job! I went to work feeling that the world was mine.
"I was put in a steno typing pool with a lot of other teenaged girls and I recognized several who had answered the same ad as I had. I also noticed that, of the some dozen black girls (not including myself) who had applied, only one had been accepted.
"When I looked about the large room filled with close to fifty girls, I discovered only two in the whole batch were black. Again I tried not to be paranoid and told myself the black girls who had applied hadn't been able to pass the tests the company gave. Ghetto schools were noted for their lack of real education.
"At no time did I ever come out and say I was white, but I simply allowed others to accept me as such. For all I knew some of the girls might have doubts about my race since I was, after all, olive skinned with brown eyes.
"These doubts were cleared up when one of the black girls passed by a bunch of trainees in the lunchroom. A blonde nudged me in the side with her elbow. 'Damned nigger thinks she's white,' she whispered.
"For a ghastly moment I thought she meant me and then I realized that she was talking about the very dark, obviously Negro girl who had walked by. Comments like this had been made to me before back home by people who had taken me for a white and I had always made a point of telling the bigoted one off or coming out and saying that I, too, was a nigger.
"But for the first time I let it slide by. I smiled. And that's how I began to lose my soul.
"A couple of girls who worked with me (whites, of course) asked me to join them in sharing an apartment. I accepted right away for this meant they liked me as a person.
"I knew damned well they wouldn't even have considered taking me on as a roommate if I were clearly a Negro.
"Joan and Evelyn were very attractive, lively girls and I was certain that we would all have wonderful times together. The man who rented us the apartment that overlooked San Francisco Bay was very overt in his racial feelings once he handed us the keys.
"'Glad you girls came. I was afraid some blacks would show up and I'd have to rent to them or go to jail.'
"I smiled and said nothing.
"I gazed out of the large windows at the view of the city and the bay that would've been denied me if it were known I was a Negro. San Francisco was supposed to be a city that held liberal views on race but I could see that bigots were everywhere. Every Eden has its snakes.
"Once I got settled in my apartment I had time to think of boys. The office held dances every now and then and I went to one of them with my roommates. Some blacks were at the dance and I was afraid one of them would discover my secret.
"It takes a black to know a black. I felt a lot safer being around whites because very few knew that there was such a thing as crossing the color line. Whites simply didn't believe that there were Negroes who were lightly colored as they were.
"As a matter-of-fact, there were some whites so deeply tanned that they could pass for blacks. In the office I sat next to a girl of Latin descent who refused to sunbathe because, as she put it, the sun turned her into a nigger.
"As always I smiled when she said this. The smiles kept coming easier and easier as I thought white besides looking white.
"At the dance a Negro male looked at me briefly and then walked by. For a moment I was afraid he was going to ask me to dance. Then a white fellow about twenty came up and introduced himself.
"His name was Norman and he worked in another part of the company. His hair was blonde; his eyes were blue. He was Mr. WASP in person. I could tell by the expression on his almost pretty face that he took me for a fellow white.
"Norman asked for my telephone number and that was how our relationship began. He, like me, was sharing an apartment with a couple of other bachelors. I introduced them to Joan and Evelyn and all six of us became friends.
"I still stayed with Norman, but I tried not to fall in love with him. Where would love lead to? If he asked me to marry him I would have to reveal my color. If we ever had a child it could quite easily be more black than white.
"Up until our fifth date Norman didn't try to make any really sexual advances. Then he took me back to my apartment when Joan and Evelyn were out.
"He took me in his arms and kissed mc hard. When he pressed me against the sofa one of his hands slipped under the top part of my dress and grabbed a breast. This was as far as I ever let any boy get; this was the line I had always drawn.
"But, I was eighteen now and living on my own. It was time that I became a woman and I wanted Norman to be the one to change my status from a child to an adult.
"'Sandy,' he told me thickly, 'I want you.'
"He brought the top part of my dress down and uncovered both of my breasts. I was afraid that my very dark nipples would give my race away, but he kissed each one and sucked on them.
"He brought my dress down still further and I helped him remove it. I took off my panties and exposed my dark pubic hair. Once again he kissed this intimate part of me. 'Sandy,' he said, 'I love you. I want you to be my wife.'
"I jumped as if touched by an electrical wire. My first proposal and I couldn't accept it. If I had been born white, I would've accepted it in a minute. I could've been married to Norman right now and living in San Francisco.
"How I fought down the urge to accept his proposal and let the future worry about itself. As the saying goes: Marry in haste and repent in leisure.
'You don't have to marry me, Norman,' I assured him.
'"I'm not telling a lie just to have your body,' he answered. 'I really want to marry you.' '"I know,' I told him. '"And you don't want to marry me?' '"We're too young,' I told him by way of an excuse, any excuse. 'Let's just have fun. You don't have to worry about making me pregnant because
I've taken the pill.'
"His deep blue eyes smiled along with his mouth. 'I never thought a girl as pretty and as sweet as you would be such a swinger,' he said.
'"That just goes to show you,' I said in an ironic undertone to myself, 'that appearances are deceiving.'
"Once Norman realized that I was just waiting to be had without strings, he quickly stripped off his clothes. He had a fine body with narrow hips, a trim waist, a broad chest and a sex organ that stuck up and out in a full, throbbing erection.
"Norman rubbed his hand over my pubic area and said, 'I always had the idea you were a virgin, Sandy.'
"i am.'
"His hand stopped moving on my vagina. It was as if he were now touching something sacred. WASPS had a hang-up about virginity. They had the out dated notion that women were divided into two categories; the sluts who did and the saints who didn't.
"I suppose I had him completely confused because first he had taken me for a saint, and then a slut, and now a saint again.
'"I'm a virgin now, but I don't want to be one all my life,' I told him trying to sound flip and shallow.
"Norman shook his blonde curls. 'I'll never understand females,' he said. With that he placed his white body on my slightly darker one.
"The handsome boy seemed to know what he was doing and it was obvious he had left his own virginity behind him years ago. I was no expert on sexual intercourse but he did seem to go about all the erotic moves with an assurance that could only come from experience.
"Norman slipped the tip of his aroused part along my cleft and he could tell how virginally tight I was. He didn't try to plow his way into me right away. He kissed my face several times and then urged that first glorious inch in ... and then another...'Sandy,' he whispered as he created a woman where a girl had been.
'"Oh! Oh! Ohhhhh!' I cried out when Norman pushed his rod of sex through my virginal veil.
'"Am I hurting you, darling?' he wanted to know.
"How like my favorite WASP. In the middle of extreme passion he was still considerate. When I begged him to continue he slipped in the rest of his penis and started to move up and down as he began my first act of fornication.
"My problem with my color had always prevented me from getting too close to boys, black and white. All my life I had tended to withdraw from deep commitments but now I was committing myself fully. I was going to make up for all the love that had been denied me because of my damned skin condition.
"'Faster!' I told the boy. 'Do it to me fast and hard!'
"Sensitive, tender affections were out for me. For a girl who didn't want to marry or bring odd colored children into the world the pill and the penis were her real companions. 'Norman!' I cried in sheer lust. 'Give me your body!'
"The boy rammed with full force and power. My starved vagina swallowed his male flesh and chewed on it with toothless gums. Norman rammed his body up and down against mine as hard as he could and then spewed an orgasm into me.
"We embraced hard and kissed one another. We stayed in this position as he spilled all his fluid. When it was gone he lifted his handsome, white face. 'Sandy,' he grinned with delight, 'you screw like a nigger.'
"My body reacted and went cold. And then I smiled.
"When Norman pulled out of my cleft he was surprised to see that I had actually been a virgin. I went into the bathroom and cleaned myself up.
"Norman leaned against the shower stall and gazed at me with liquid blue eyes. 'I never knew a cherry to be so hot,' he said.
"'You've had a lot of experience with cherries, have you?' I asked as I rubbed my now matured vagina.
"'Well ... some," he admitted. 'The girls were always scared. You were different. You went all out.'
'"Like a nigger?' "'Huh?'
'"You said I screwed like a nigger. I suppose you've had some experience with black girls, too?'
'"Well, no,' he stammered. 'That was just a figure of speech.'
"I hated to press the point but I couldn't help myself. 'Then how do you know how black girls fornicate?'
'"Oh, Sandy,' he complained, 'let's drop the subject. What are we talking about niggers at a time like this for anyhow? Let them screw their own kind, right?'
"I swallowed hard. 'Right,' I replied.
"Norman stepped into the shower stall with me and started cleaning my back and buttocks. He slipped his soapy, damp hands around to my rather small breasts and cupped them. He pressed in against me with his damp, erecting penis between my butt halves.
'"You have such a pretty body,' he told me. 'I'd like to bang you every night of our lives. That offer of marriage still holds. See, I didn't propose just to have your body. When a guy asks a girl to marry him at a moment like this you can be sure he really means it.'
"I ached to say I wanted him to be my husband. As much as I tried to act the swinging single on the pill, I was really old fashioned enough to want a good home and husband. But my color problem made me answer, I'll think about marriage when I'm over thirty.'
"Norman pressed his now erect sex organ against my rear opening. 'Maybe you're right,' he said. 'Thirty is a good time to marry. By then we all would have sown our wild oats.'
"I bit my trembling tongue and tried to keep from weeping. How I wanted Norman to be my own ... always. Yet I made myself say with phony brightness, 'Speaking of wild oats you've got a bunch coming up now in that whang of yours.'
"Norman laughed and pushed his lust hard manhood against my anus. It hurt when he tried to penetrate me and I told him not to sodomize me.
'"Greeking takes some getting used to,' he told me. 'One of these days I'll take your anal virginity. Sandy, I want to teach you all there is to know about sex. For a girl who wants to have fun for the next twelve years before she marries I want to get you off on a good start. Here's just a little taste of things to come...'
"The nude boy kept running his hard sex organ up and down along the crack formed by my butt halves, probing against my anus at the same time. As he squeezed my breasts he pushed against my rear. For a boy who looked so clean cut and all American, he sure did have a wide variety of erotic desires.
"Norman pumped and pumped against my rear and then he shot his juice. It poured warmly over my anus and butt halves, then slithered down along my legs.
"The sexual act, that many would think of as degenerate, thrilled me and I leaned against the naked young white man. Norman buried his mouth in the side of my neck and sucked a hickey mark there.
"The shower still poured warm water down on both our naked bodies and I had the idea it was all male sexual fluid encompassing our lust mad bodies. After a lifetime of sexlessness suddenly everything took on an erotic meaning.
"We dried ourselves after the shower and walked into the living room naked. It was thrilling to me lo he naked with a naked boy. Norman put on a record and we danced next to one another with our bodies touching. We kissed and I felt my nipples become hard points of sheer desire.
"'Teach me everything about sex, Norman," I said wickedly.
"He held me tightly. 'Ever sixty-nine?'
"I knew that kids wore that numeral on their sweaters and it had some kind of sexual meaning hut I never found out what it was. Then Norman told me. When a couple performed oral sex acts upon one another at the same time their bodies formed the number 69.
'"Want to try it?' he asked.
"I'm ready for anything,' I told him.
"We went into my bedroom and Norman stretched out over the bed. Excitement made his hard working penis engorge slowly again. Following his orders I stretched out on top of Norman's body with my pubic area against his face and my mouth only inches above his sex.
"Norman put his hands on my buttocks and pressed my vagina against his mouth. He then began to lap inside my opening.
"I licked his waiting meat and my entire being shook with lust. I took his flesh tube orally and felt it enlarge in my mouth as I performed the act.
"Norman began to chew my crotch with increased passion and I kept mouthing him until, once more, he erected. I couldn't get enough of his manhood and bobbed my head up and down quickly.
"Norman released his orgasm and I gagged for a passing second but then fellated him until he was dry. We kept mouthing one another for a long moment afterwards until Norman rolled over on his side and sat up.
'"Now I've got your oral virginity, too,' he said. 'How lucky can a guy get?'
"'I feel pretty lucky myself,' I told him as I gazed at his beautiful young body.
"i still would like to marry you, Sandy,' he said, i could search the world and not find another girl as perfect. You're just what I've always wanted, a sweet kid who is a tiger in bed.'
'"Let's drop that subject, Norman,' I urged. 'We have lots of time to talk about marriage.'
"Norman did drop the subject. Another girl would've grabbed him on the spot because, although he was only twenty, he had a good job in the company and he was headed for an executive position. I was sure that some other girl would grab him off in not too many years and I would lose the first man I ever really loved.
"We did have a happy single life together, though. We slept with one another and I kept a large supply of birth control pills on hand at all times. When Norman suggested that we share an apartment I quickly agreed.
"But it wasn't all that simple because, first, we had to find other roommates for the ones we were leaving behind. When three people share an apartment there is always the danger of one leaving suddenly and forcing the other two to keep up the rent until a replacement could be found.
"If you didn't like your roommates then it was easy enough to pick up and leave with no notice. However, I liked Joan and Evelyn and told them about my plans to live with Norman.
"I wanted to find a replacement for me at the apartment. Norman told his friends about the same plan and that was the situation when I got a surprise visit from my parents.
"I was sitting in the living room with Norman, Joan and Evelyn when the doorbell rang. Since we were expecting Norman's roommates over Joan pushed the buzzer and we listened to the elevator being started, certain that it was the boys.
"After a moment there was a knock on the door and Joan went to answer it. 'Hello,' I heard an only too familiar male voice say, 'we're here to see our daughter, Sandy.'
"My blood went cold. Of all the times my parents picked for surprise visit!
"'Sandy?' Joan repeated somewhat edgy. 'Well, we have someone here, but she's white.'
"There was a heavy pause and I heard my father say dully, 'Oh, I see.'
"He knew, of course, I had passed. He didn't say that he was my father and was about to leave when I cried out, 'Dad!'
"I just couldn't deny my parents. I knew what I was losing in claiming them for my own. When my parents stepped inside the apartment I rushed to embrace them and kissed their black faces. 'Everyone,' I said, 'this is my mother and father.'
"Norman, Joan and Evelyn looked stunned. For the first time they realized I was a Negro. They managed to make some polite remarks to my parents but I knew that it would never be the same again between us.
"I took my parents out sight-seeing for the next couple of days and they never mentioned my crossing the color line until we reached the airport on their way back. 'Sandy,' my father said, 'if you want to be white we'll not stop you. We won't drop in on you again as we had the last time.'
"Tears welled up in my eyes. My own parents were willing to let me deny them if it meant my happiness. 'No, dad,' I told him. i just passed to see what it was like. You know how it has always been with me.'
'"Are you happier as a white girl?' my mother wanted to know. 'That boy, Norman, seems nice.'
'"Yes, I was happy, mom,' I told her. 'And, yes, Norman is nice. I don't know how nice he'll be now that he knows. I haven't spoken to him since your arrival.'
"My mother placed her black hand on my white one. 'I'm sorry I ruined it for you, Sandy,' she said sadly, patting me.
"This remark and this touch caused me to weep openly. 'You're mine!' I cried. 'Both of you! You're my parents!'
"'Sandy,' my father warned, 'people are watching.'
"i want them to watch!' I exclaimed, i want them to know you're my parents!'
"People gazed at me wondering why a white girl was shouting at the black couple who were my mother and father. My parent's plane was announced and I kissed them in front of everyone, something I had usually avoided doing in public.
"I waited until the plane took off and then took a cab back to my apartment where I knew I had a lot of questions facing me.
"The apartment was empty when I entered it. Joan and Evelyn were still at work. I had taken off the day to see my parents to the airport. The girls came home and we all engaged in stiff, empty chit-chat.
"I knew that the girls had been discussing me ever since my parents dropped by. We used to be so friendly and now there was this change.
"I was sure they were remembering all the racial slurs they had expressed while we lived together and all tin times I had smiled in response.
"I'll leave if you want me to," I told them, bringing matters to a head. 'You might say I'm here under false colors.'
"'Sandy,' Joan said nervously, 'we're not bigoted or anything like that. You can stay as long as you want to.'
"I knew that the girls liked me but there was still the fact that I was a Negro. There seemed to be a natural barrier between races and this was now placed inside the apartment and it made all of us uncomfortable. Paranoia again? I doubted it.
"'I was planning to move anyhow,' I told them. 'I just don't know if Norman's changed his plans.'
"When I went to work the next day I felt eyes bore into the back of my neck everywhere I went. Conversations stopped when I came near a group and started after I passed by. I wasn't imagining it; I was being pointed out.
"Girls who had been so friendly before now seemed ill at ease in my company. When one slipped and dropped some racial remark another would kick her under the desk. Yes, there was a change. I was no longer a sister white, but an alien black.
"I met Norman for lunch in the firm's cafeteria. It was common knowledge that we were going steady and now everyone wanted to see what was going to happen to our relationship once my true identity was revealed.
"Norman reminded me of all those black boys who used to date me when he glanced nervously back and forth realizing he was seated with a girl of another race. Although I was still white looking everyone knew I was black.
"Norman was sitting and eating with a nigger. And, of course, they all knew he had gone to bed with one. He was glad when lunch was over and he was free of my company.
"Although he tried to appear friendly there was this change in him, too, the boy who had experienced every possible sexual position with me.
"Since Norman never mentioned about our moving together again, I realized that he hoped I would end our relationship with as little fuss as possible. I never brought up the subject of our impending love nest and let the matter die a natural death.
"Norman never called again and soon he made a big show of being seen with a girl who was even whiter than he was. My first real love affair was now over.
"I couldn't stay on in the company any longer or bear the tension in the apartment I shared with Joan and Evelyn. I told the girls I was quitting the company and I wanted them to get another roommate. Both were obviously pleased by my decision and they announced they already had a girl picked.
"We had been such friends before and now they couldn't wait to get rid of me.
"I didn't want to leave San Francisco, my job, the apartment, and Norman, but there seemed no other way out. When I picked up my last paycheck I had the urge to go to another city and pass as white, but, instead, I went home.
"Right now I'm going to a nearby college where everyone knows me as black. I'm feeling more comfortable in my true identity and I'm going with a fellow black student
"He knows all about Norman and my journey into another race. I don't think I'll ever cross that color line again. It is so much more honest to be one's real self. I've regained my soul."
Diagnostic reaction:
When a light skinned black crosses the color line he usually stays there ... if he does not marry. Marriage brings with it the problem of children. Some light skinned Negroes have the false notion that, by mixing with a white, their children will lose all traces of Negro blood, or, at least, enough of it so that they could be accepted as whites in any society.
Franklin Frazier, in his book, BLACK BOURGEOISE, tells of many tragedies in which very dark, obviously Negroid babies were born to couples where one partner had lied about his heritage.
Sandy avoided the problem of marriage. If her parents had not arrived on a surprise visit, she would be living with her white lover now. But as a result, she realizes that there are more important things than social acceptance.
Once blacks achieve financial equality there will be less reason for them to pass as whites. Social inequality, however, will continue to drive them over for years to come.
CHAPTER SEVEN...
NORMA
The subject is twenty-four and is presently working for a black militant organization. At one time she worked for a white firm in New Orleans but has since given up any attempts at integration.
Norma wears her hair in a "natural" style and favors African-type clothing which is now so popular amongst militants. This interview took place in an apartment she is sharing with a black lover.
"Yes, I was all for integration at one time.
Now I can see that our races will never live together in peace, so we have to separate to prevent a bloody Civil War. Ossie, the fellow I'm living with, is all for war but I'm not that militant.
"I was born right here in New Orleans and went to school only a few blocks from this apartment house. I wasn't dirt-poor like the blacks you see out in the country, but I was poor enough. I was one of seven kids and my father supported us on what he made as a dock worker.
"New Orleans is a major port so there was always a job for a man with a strong back and a weak mind. My father had the strong back but his mind was sharper than most whites gave him credit for. He was great with figures and could have been an accountant if he had the right schooling and the right breaks.
"That's why he made sure that all us kids finished high school at least. He was such a bug on education that he saw two of his children through college. They made it on scholarships, and right now, I have a brother who teaches and a sister who works in a lab.
"I went to college for about a year trying to work my way through because I had no scholarship money and my parents couldn't afford the tab. I didn't feel any great loss when I left school, though. I was anxious to get out into the world and earn my own living.
"In my younger days I was all for integration because it seemed the only reasonable solution to our race problems. But in my younger days, I didn't know as much about the world as I do now.
"I went to work in the office of a firm that sold educational materials. The place was owned and operated by Whitey so that most of the employees were pale faces. A few blacks were hired and Whitey felt very proud of himself for being so generous.
"Every white firm had to have some 'house niggers' and I became one of them. I noticed that the only black office workers were very pretty, young girls. I didn't know it at the time, but the bosses felt that if they had to hire niggers, they might just as well hire ones they could mess around with.
"Hilda, a pretty black girl who worked with me, was running around with one of the white bosses. Since she seemed to like the guy, I figured it was none of my business even if he was married. At that stage in my life I had the idea that sex was a private matter.
"If people of different races wanted to mix in bed, that was their personal affair. Now I can see that race mixing, especially in bed, is all wrong. Blacks and whites are better off if they stay by their own.
"All but two of the white men I worked with in the office were married. One of them was pushing seventy and cared only about his work, and the other was a bit off his rocker. He claimed that all sex was basically evil and that was why he intended to go through life as a virgin. I felt sorry for him because he was missing out on the best part of life.
"The married white men made up for the lack of sexual interest these two single men showed. They were forever flirting with the females in the office regardless of race. It seemed harmless enough but I knew that a black man could never get away with simple flirtation if the object of his intentions was white.
"But, having grown up in New Orleans, I had accepted this double-standard of behavior long ago.
"If the whites had only restricted themselves to flirtation, I wouldn't have minded, but they all wanted to get into my pants. Gregory, a fellow in his thirties who was my immediate boss, was after me almost from the start.
"He was a handsome stud, I have to say that much. He had a finely chiseled face and wavy, reddish hair. If he hadn't been married, I would've accepted him as a lover, but Gregory had a wife and four children. I didn't like the idea of being 'something on the side' for a married man.
"Hilda, the black girl who was screwing another white boss, told me that I should encourage him because pale faces were very kind and generous to their spade chicks. 'Inter-racial sex is fun, Norma,' she told me. 'Don't knock it if you haven't tried it.'
"I wasn't a virgin and knew my way around men, but I had never had anything to do with a white stud before. One of the reasons was that the opportunity had never presented itself to me before. But, now it had. At the time I was dating a couple of black fellows I wasn't serious about and I figured that variety is the spice of life, so why not accept a date from a white man?
"Gregory was also a native of New Orleans so he knew as well as I that inter-racial couples were frowned upon in most parts of the city. That's why he took me to the Latin Quarter which is a sort of Greenwich Village in New Orleans.
"This was the place white men always took their colored girls when they were ashamed to be seen with them in less tolerant parts of the city. I didn't mind because I knew Gregory's position. And, besides, it was our first date.
"After he wined and dined me, Gregory drove me down a dark, deserted street and parked. Now that he spent money on me, he wanted to get what he thought he had paid for. The white fellow kissed me on the lips and started to paw my breasts. I was no prude, but I never allowed a date to take such liberties too soon. I was pretty enough to play the game of hard-to-get.
"Gregory, however, didn't see it that way. 'Come on, baby, loosen up,' he urged, i know you want it as much as I do.'
'"Do I?' I answered. 'You're taking a lot for granted. It's been a fun evening ... up until now.' '"Hilda let me fuck her on our first date,' he said.
"The short, four-letter word rocked me. He said it so casually as if I were used to hearing such language. I was also rocked by the knowledge that he had had sex with Hilda. That girl was certainly sleeping around all over the place. And, since she had been so easy, Gregory thought I would be too.
"He couldn't think of black girls as individuals; if one screwed for everyone, then so did every other spade chick.
"Gregory seemed determined to get into my pants but he didn't rush matters, lover that he was. He turned on the car radio and nibbled my ear. It was all soft and romantic and I felt myself getting more excited. Gregory was, after all, a very handsome man. And, as Hilda had said, there was something erotic about inter-racial romancing.
"My pale boss got a bit bolder and slipped his hand up to my crotch. He rubbed his hand over my pubic area and then inserted one of his fingers into my sexual opening. He touched all the right places and I couldn't help but moan with pleasure.
"Once Gregory heard this, he knew he had gotten my motor going and started to work off my panties. 'No,' I pleaded weakly, but he pulled my panties down my legs and dropped them on the floor of the car. I had now passed the point-of-no-return as far as resistance went.
"'Such dark, lovely skin,' the man breathed warmly as he pushed my dress up to my waist, revealing my hairy sex organ. He shoved two fingers into my slit this time and probed deeper. I spread my legs in sheer lust and got into a more comfortable position to accept his body.
"Gregory opened his pants, pulled them down to his knees, and then shoved his shorts down, too. His penis was upright like a flagpole and very pink. At its base was a bush of reddish hair. I had never seen a white man quite like this before.
"I curled my hand over the rod of flesh and felt it tremble under my touch. When I started to manipulate it, Gregory said, 'Don't jerk me off, Norma. I have other plans.'
"With that he rolled over toward me and guided his manhood into my body. By this time I was so aroused that I pushed my torso against him so that I encompassed the entire length of his manhood with my flesh. Gregory gasped in delight. He positioned me so that my back was against the front seat and rammed into me again and again.
"I wrapped my legs around his body and my nipples felt as if they were about to burst. I had never felt so erotically aroused in all my life. Hilda was right about there being something extra exciting in inter-racial passion.
"Gregory moaned and then stopped moving. He climaxed. A liquid warmth filled my being and
I pushed my torso up against him to take every drop of love. He spilled all he had into me and we were both very satisfied.
"'I haven't screwed in a car since I was twenty years old,' Gregory said when he sat up and pulled on his shorts. 'A room would've been nicer.'
"Then why didn't you rent one?' I asked.
"'Well ... Norma ... I mean,' he stammered, but I got his meaning. He didn't want to enter a hotel with a black girl on his arm. He could always pass a white girl off as his wife, but my color complicated things. Inter-racial romance had its pleasures but it also had its special pains.
"Gregory was while, married and fifteen years older, but we still became lovers after that banging in the ear. I didn't feel self-conscious about it at the office because every other black girl had her own white man. It was only then did Gregory confess that he and the other whites made a point to hire only pretty black girls for the sole purpose of trying to have intercourse with them.
'"You colored girls have a lot more fire than white ones,' he told me, repeating that old fiction about the supposed sexual superiority of my race. Even though Gregory lived in New Orleans all his life, he simply did not know an entire segment of people who lived there too. He didn't know the blacks, although he liked to think that he was some kind of expert on us.
"My white lover took me to out-of-the-way places where he was unknown and where inter-racial affairs were not uncommon. I hated the looks I got from the black help at some of these places. I was, to them, a traitor to my race.
"White men used to leer at me when I was with Gregory, knowing that our relationship just had to be a sexual one. The idea that whites and blacks could enjoy social intercourse didn't enter their heads.
"Gregory never made love to me in a comfortable room and we usually screwed in his car. He just didn't want to risk going into a hotel or motel. When I told him that I knew of a couple of places in the black district that asked no questions, he replied, 'Honey, I'd have my throat slashed from ear-to-ear in no time.'
'"Not all blacks carry razors,' I answered tightly.
'"Norma, don't get annoyed,' he soothed. 'I'm no bigot. Hell, I'm throwing it in to you all the time, aren't I?'
"Gregory actually thought that, by having sex with me, he was demonstrating his lack of racism. He didn't know that sex was often used as a weapon reather than an instrument of love. The white slave masters of yesterday were always having sex with black girls but this didn't make them abolitionists.
"After a night of wining and dining one warm night Gregory took me to the outskirts of the city and parked the car. Instead of pawing me as usual, he opened the door. 'How about doing it in the field?' he said.
"Sex in the open and under the stars; that sounded interesting. At least it was a change from making it in the front seat of the car all the time.
"We walked over to a barbed wire fence and I knew that we were on the border of private property. When I told Gregory to look for another spot, he assured me that we would be perfectly safe, and lifted the barbed wire for me. I ducked under with some misgivings and held the wires for him.
"Once inside the field we found a nice level spot that was surrounded by trees and we took off our clothes. This was a first for both of us since we had never made love in the open before.
"When I was naked, the night felt chilly against my bare skin. Gregory stepped close to me and I felt his erect penis against my pubic area. 'We are like Adam and Eve,' he said.
'"If Eve were black, that would've solved a lot of problems,' I answered. 'The human race would be all one, tan color.'
"in the dark we're all of one color,' he said and slipped his arms around me. I pressed into his naked body to feel his warmth.
"Gregory had me lie down in the soft, dewy grass and he placed his body on top of mine. His rod dug into my cleft all the way and he moved up and down. I felt wild and free and wrapped my arms and legs around his lean body. There was no moon but the bright stars burned above us in splendor. How natural and wonderful was sex!
"He thrust into my flesh with increasing speed and my passions rose with each stroke. Our open mouths met and our tongues slithered together in moist heat. Gregory rose and fell into me and then he had an orgasm. His sperm leaped from his flesh and filled my hungry opening.
"'Norma ... Norma,' he whispered. 'I love you so!'
"I believed him ... then. But it was one thing to say you love someone and another to prove it. The test came with stunning speed. A beam of light fell upon us and a voice said, 'Well, look what I have here!'
"We broke up fast and I covered my vagina with my hands. When the flashlight went from me to Gregory I could see a man holding it. In his other hand was a shotgun. The guard!
'"This here is private property,' he said. 'I'll have to turn you two over to the police.'
'"Now ... wait a minute,' Gregory said desperately. 'Can't we settle this right here?'
"I knew that Gregory was offering the man a bribe. As an executive in a respectable firm he couldn't afford the scandal of being caught screwing a black employee in a field. I didn't relish the idea of a court appearance and hoped that the guard would accept Gregory's offer.
"'Well, now,' the guard said, lowering his flashlight so that the beam was pointed right at my body from the waist down. 'Maybe we all can make some kind of arrangement. That sure is a mighty fine looking nigger gal you got there, mister.'
"He wanted a bribe, all right. He wanted me!
"'Wouldn't you rather have twenty dollars?' Gregory said in a timid voice.
'"Now, mister, that's generous of you but I'd rather have your coon. I got enough money; black pussy is what I really want.'
"Then Gregory said something I will never forgive him for. 'Okay,' he said in a casual, off-hand way as if I had no stake in the matter, 'but put that flashlight out before you attract attention.'
"'No, Gregory!' I cried, I'll offer him another twenty. Forty dollars should be enough.'
'"Hush up, girl,' the guard snapped, 'and get your black ass on that ground again.'
"I was utterly stunned. Both white men acted like a couple of slave masters sharing the same nigger bitch. I, being sub-human, had nothing to say about what they did with me. It was as if I were a hog being led to the slaughter pen. Hogs had no rights and neither had I. And all this after Gregory told me he loved me. ...
"I lay down on the grass and spread my legs. I could've argued and rejected the man and Gregory would've probably wound up paying him money, but I didn't want to owe my lover anything. If this was the way he wanted to end our relationship, it was all right with me.
"The guard shut off the flashlight and put his shotgun aside. I thought how easy it would be for Gregory to grab the gun and force the guard off me, but white men simply didn't get into conflict with one another over something so low as a black girl.
"The stranger took off all his clothes and placed his body on top of mine. He was short, flabby, and from what I could see, about fifty years old. He moved back and forth against my torso but his penis wasn't erected fully. The guard kept rubbing his male flesh against my pubic patch until it engorged to its full length and power.
"Then he guided it into my opening with his hand. He pushed all the way into mc and pumped sexually. Self-loathing filled me. I wasn't a human being any longer with human feelings, but simply a thing to be used.
"While the guard ravished me ... and there was no other word for it ... Gregory, my lover, walked away and put on his clothes. For him the 'deal' was over; the slave master had conducted his business with a fellow slave master and a black had been exchanged following a gentlemen's agreement.
"But, for me, the 'deal' was only beginning. Being a man well into his middle years, the guard did not suffer from premature ejaculation. He kept moving his short, stubby, flabby sex organ into my vagina without reaching a climax, even after Gregory was completely dressed.
"The guard pumped and pumped and his breathing became labored. I knew how to excite men to greater passion, but I didn't want to use my erotic skills on this creature who was taking me under threat of exposure.
"Gregory wandered by, looked at us, and walked on. He lit a cigarette as casually as if he were on a stroll in the country, and faced away from the couple on the ground. Well, at least he had the decency not to stare.
'"Here ... I ... I come,' the guard whispered, using a stroke for each word.
"He finally reached a climax and squirted semen into my body. As soon as he was finished, I dragged myself out from under him and stood up. I didn't want him to try for another erotic pleasure while I was in his power. As far as I was concerned, the bribe had been paid.
"I hurried into my clothes and rushed over to the barbed wire fence. I ducked under and sat in the rear seat of the car. I wanted to show Gregory that he had killed what love I had for him.
"Gregory thought I would 'get over' my peeve against him and dropped me off at my place. When
I ignored him at work he claimed I was making too big an issue over nothing. Nothing ... that was the word he used. Nothing ... that was what he actually thought of me. Nothing was my value.
"Gregory showed me that there will always be racism between whites and blacks and that is why I am all for a separate nation for my race inside this country. I quit that white-ruled company to join one ruled by my brothers and sisters who feel as I do.
"You whites may go through all kinds of motions to prove that you love us, but in your hearts you do not and never will. Gregory showed me that. It is the one valuable thing I got out of our love affair."
Diagnostic reaction:
Norma has joined the black militant organization, not because she believes strongly in its ideals, but out of a need to revenge herself on Gregory, the white man who she feels treated her badly. Because she thinks this man insulted her racial heritage, she is going all out to flaunt her African background via hair and clothing styles.
It is her way of showing the white race that she is proud of her blackness.
Nathan Wright, in his study, BLACK POWER AND URBAN UNREST, claims that blacks who are active in militant organizations had, at one time in their lives, suffered personal racial abuse. Feeling impotent against the white majority, they join radical black groups where they experience the satisfaction of being with their own and a part of something whites fear.
The youthful blacks favor para-military uniforms such as those worn by the Black Panthers to make it very clear to the whites that they are no longer helpless and impotent pawns.
Norma has a right to her hate. She knows that if she had been a white girl, Gregory would not have been so quick to use her as a bribe. When the guard expressed desire for her body, the white executive, despite the fact that he loved the girl, reacted as one used to, thinking of blacks as somehow inferior.
The guard was also typical of many white men born and raised in the South. He took it for granted that Gregory, a fellow white, had little regard for the rights of a black girl, and therefore found it easy to demand her body. Norma is certain that this man would not have made this same demand if Gregory had been caught with a white girl.
The longer Norma stays with her black militant organization, the more convinced she will be by their goals and ideals. Before that incident in the field with Gregory and the guard, she had accepted the belief that only in integration and love could the races learn to live and work together.
But one cruel, personal racial insult had changed all that. She will probably become increasingly militant as the years pass. While it is true that love breeds love, it is also true that hate breeds hate.
So love is the answer, of course, but that is not always possible in the case of each person being a different color. Is it that black and white don't organically mix?
Why should a blooming, passionate love affair as in the ease of Gregory and Norma be totally negated by that one incident, and why, indeed, should that incident have taken place anyway?
The answer is the source of the problem. And the source, in this case, is the guard and his anti-Negro Southern background. Although Gregory was perfectly convinced of his own mind being integrated, the guard used his official post and authoritative voice to suppress both Gregory and Norma.
There is no reason why Gregory and Norma couldn't get along perfectly well, even now, if they stopped and looked back at what started the problem. Both consented to the orders of the debased, degenerate and cruel guard who was aberrated beyond belief by his own social background.
Perhaps both will, in time, reconsider their actions on that night and perhaps come together again.
The guard will, of course, continue to live up to his stupid ways until he dies. It is definitely too late for him to see any other point of view other than that from which he is presently looking at the world of blacks and whites.
CHAPTER EIGHT...
DORIS
The subject is a shapely, beautiful black girl of twenty-one who works for a large travel agency in New York. At present she is living alone in a small but cozy apartment which is where this interview took place.
"I'm unique for a black girl. . .I'm a college graduate. I am also one of the few black travel agents in this country. On the face of it I am a success, and as whites like to put it, a credit to my race. But, if I'm such a success and such a credit, why aren't I happy?
"If I had a choice between being a happy loser and an unhappy winner, I'd choose losing any day of the week.
"When I left college only six months ago I decided to come to New York City where I felt my color wouldn't be a handicap. After working so hard for my college degree, I didn't want to waste it beating my head against a wall of prejudice. New York, with its reputation of liberalism, seemed just the right place.
"It was, and still is, my ambition to own a travel agency, so that's why I went looking for work in that field. I knew that there were not many black travel agents, so I boldly came to the point when I went to the largest travel agency in the city and said that it would help the image of the company for black travelers to see a black face in the agency they did business with.
"In a very real way I used my race to get my job. But, when I think of all the places that would have excluded me because of my color, I didn't feel too opportunistic.
"I don't like to sound immodest, but doing a quick study, I picked up the job fast and was soon making a good salary. There are some things about my job I don't like, such as coding the travelers according to ethnic backgrounds. There are places that still have restrictive policies and they want to know the background of the people who are coming so they can segregate or even exclude them.
"If I contact a hotel saying that I want to reserve space for two violets, this means that I want a room for a black couple. When I get my own agency, I'll not have anything to do with coding no matter how much business it will cost me.
"I suppose blacks don't enter the travel agency field because they will have to deal in discrimination against their own kind. Pat, the white fellow who used to be my boss at the agency, took me into his office and quietly told me about coding. 'If you still want the job it's yours,' he said, 'but you'll have to work by our rules.'
"I agreed to go along with the coding and Pat smiled at me. 'I'm no bigot, myself, but....'
"I don't know what he said after the word 'but' since I've heard too many racist sentences beginning with the words: I'm no bigot, myself, but....
"Pat tried to prove that he wasn't a racist by inviting me to lunch the first day I came to work. He took me to a good restaurant and led me to a prominent table, showing that he wasn't ashamed to be seen with me. Inter-racial couples were not uncommon in New York, but we still rated glances and direct stares from the other patrons.
"I appreciated the fact that my boss wanted to demonstrate that I was welcomed in the firm despite my color, but I really wished he didn't go through all that trouble.
"Pat had been married but was divorced. like any single girl this bit of information interested me. There weren't too many attractive single men in New York of any color, so, when Pat asked me out on a dinner date, I accepted.
"He was the perfect gentleman on the first date and I didn't know if I liked it or not. Was he avoiding romantic overtures because of my race? He had to be interested in me or else he wouldn't be so friendly.
"The man grew warmer as our relationship progressed. He made some minor social blunders, like assuming that I, as a black, had a natural interest in jazz. Actually I have a terrible sense of rhythm In time, Pat accepted me as an individual rather than a representative of my race.
"He introduced me to his friends and it surprised me that many were hippies who smoked pot. As an executive in a respected travel agency, I assumed he would have nothing but squares for friends. Pat showed me a side of himself that he didn't show other employees.
"I had experimented with pot in college and knew that I could handle the stuff, so I joined Pat in a pot party. It was an inter-racial affair with blacks, whites and even a couple of American Indians, puffing up a storm. One white girl was married to her black companion and Pat told me later that she had come from a 'good' family and had been disinherited because of the marriage. Her husband was a jazz musician and they traveled from club to club, from city to city, any place he could get work.
'"They have a lousy life,' Pat told me. 'I don't think the marriage will last. She blames him for being disinherited and he blames her for making his life too complicated. Every time they try to rent a room, for example, the desk clerk takes it for granted that they're just a single couple shacking up rather than married people.'
"I took this information as a hint that Pat didn't want to go all the way to the altar with our relationship. It didn't matter. I was adult enough to accept sex without the wedding ring. I was no virgin. When I was seventeen I gave into a black boy, and when I was twenty, I had intercourse with a white fellow. Two nights of sex ... that's all my erotic life was when I met Pat. He soon changed that.
"We were a bit high from pot when Pat took me to my apartment. Instead of drinking coffee and leaving as he used to do, he ran his hands all over my body, exciting me. I leaned back on the couch indicating that he could have my all. Pat began to undress me. 'Doris,' he sighed, 'I'm wild about you.'
"Some men feel that they had to state they loved a girl before they had sex with her. I didn't demand this proclamation. Sex, to me, was the natural ending to a warm, male-female relationship.
"So the white executive made love to me that night. I trembled with joyful lust as he triggered my passions. And there were many nights after that. For someone who looked so square he certainly had a wide range of sexual desires. Compared to Pat those two boys in my past were clumsy and inept. The man moved with virile masterfulness that showed me he thoroughly enjoyed sex, and I enjoyed it with him.
"I thought it was the beginning of a very passionate love affair. My sex life took a sudden turn for the better as we performed all kinds of erotic acts with unbridled lust. Knowing that marriage was out of the question I never brought the subject up which I would have done if I were white or he were black. Inter-racial sex was one thing; interracial marriage quite another.
"But Pat was actually marriage-minded. I found out about this when one sunny day in the office he made a general announcement to everyone that he was leaving the job to be married! No one was surprised but me.
"When he took me to lunch later on he told me that he had been going around also with a wealthy socialite. He had the gall to brag about the fact that the girl's father was going to take him into his firm, and his salary would make his present one look like peanuts.
"My hands shook so I couldn't hold the coffee cup. He casually explained, 'Doris, I don't know what you're in a huff about. Nothing is going to change between us! Look, we'll have a little place in the city and I can come to see you at least once a week,' he told me with a sly wink. 'This broad I'm marrying isn't exactly a sexpot, so...'
"I screamed so loud that everyone in the restaurant turned. 'What do you think I am?' I cried.
"In confusion, he lashed out at me, 'Give you people an inch and you want a mile!'
"I walked out of the restaurant with all eyes on me. I would have quit my job but Pat left the next week. I saw a picture of his pallid, plain wife. I could see why he wanted someone for sexual outlet. I'm sure that, by now, he's taken another girl. She may even be black."
Diagnostic reaction:
Calvin Hernton, in SEX AND RACISM IN AMERICA, claimed that there is a hidden gap between the races that too many white liberals are not even aware of. This gap cannot be bridged by sex alone. Doris found out how much of a stranger Pat really was.
Black and whites much learn to understand each other. One day black girls may work alongside whites without fear of being used and abused.
