Let’s Stop Fetishizing Melanin

Remember When BBC Meant Brit-coms and Mysteries?

I may have mentioned that I was raised by an uncomfortable marriage of the Church and the State, with my mother being a devoted Irish Catholic and my father devoting a lifetime to the military. It was a little like being raised by a combination of American Dad! and the Pope. Suffice it to say that I was not the most “woke” of youths. I was a rebel without a cause until I went to college and encountered people who weren’t like me.

In other words: I met some black people. People of Color. BIPOC. Call them what you will, they’re human beings just like me and, presumably, like you. It’s easy to say that the only difference between those of the paler persuasion and those of the darker persuasion is the amount of melanin that each possesses, but that overlooks multiple rich cultural histories and their influence upon their descendants. It’s also a totally white thing to even propose.

I say “white thing” because those of us in North America who claim Europe or the UK as where our ancestors are “from,” assume that whiteness has contributed more to the benefit of the planet and humanity than has any other shade of flesh. Further, whiteness is seen as a neutral and default social, cultural, scientific, artistic, literary, and religious position for all ethnic groups hoping to prosper and be considered civilized to adopt.

This is not to say that white folks haven’t done plenty of awesome shit over the centuries. We all know what they are because those of us who stuck around for 12 years of education heard plenty of facts and fictions about them. What we didn’t hear so much about was the awesome shit everyone else in the world was doing or had done or planned to do. The world of whiteness was a planet with various “minority groups” circling as satellites. Close, but not quite a part of the planet. Always alien. Always “exotic.”

This brings us to porn. You gotta have faith. I eventually get to my point. My point? It’s 2022. Let’s cut the crap and stop fetishizing people based on their skin tone. This rant isn’t directed exclusively at the porn producers who hype the “Big Black Cock” that their latest “bull” is “tearing up asses/pussies” with. I’m also sharing my unsolicited opinion with the lovely ladies and gentlemen who frequent establishments where couples look for other couples or individuals to share sexual intimacy. Swingers clubs, mostly, but it’s something we white folk have a bad habit of doing without realizing how fucking offensive it is.

What is “it?”

Looking for the “BBC.” No, not the British Broadcasting Company, which has provided me with so many hours of high-quality lily-white entertainment over the years. I’m talking about the aforementioned Big Black Cock, as in fetishizing it and turning those who possess one into a commodity. We’re used to hearing women complain about feeling like men see them as body parts, but the experiences of men on the receiving end of objectification are less common to us. Like being white, we assume silence is a default indication of consent, that men can never not want to be sexualized, and that men of color especially yearn to bang white women while their husbands watch.

Before everyone pulls out the torches and pitchforks in hopes of storming my castle and burning me at the stake as some kind of prude with a stick up her sanctimonious ass, let me assure you that I am a fan of black cocks. Cocks, in general, are lovely things for other people to have. Not me. They always seemed inconvenient except when it was time to pee. That aside, I’ve met many a cock in many a hue that has provided me with varying degrees of pleasure or pain.

It has not been my experience that any particular shade of light or dark has the corner of the market on big cocks, nor on the ability to inspire orgasms in those they insert them into. I have, however, encountered a few cocks that were just stupid big when compared to where I was trying to stuff them. The most challenging ones have been white, yet if the cismen who wield them were to walk through a swingers’ club, they wouldn’t get a second look unless their pants were down.

But from the stories I’ve been told, a man of color who walks into a club runs the very real risk of having at least one white husband swoop down and beg them to fuck their white wives. Cuz, you know, Mandingo and all that good stuff. Apparently, banging a black dude is like traveling to France, ziplining, and being on The Price is Right; just another thing that some people have on their bucket list.

The contrast of light against dark is beautiful. It can be powerfully erotic, emotionally evocative, boundary-pushing, introspection inspiring. I encourage people to experience it for themselves, as well as admire it in sexually frank media. But do it because it’s beautiful on its own because the person who possesses the skin in question is an individual who is worthy of respect. Black is beautiful and it looks great next to white. And olive. And brown. And red. And bronze. And ivory. And black. And all the other lovely shades of dark and light that humans are capable of wearing as skin.

This is not to say that there aren’t black men who love the chance to spread their love around to those who were cheaped on the melanin, maybe shake up a rocky marriage or unearth some previously unacknowledged racism along the way. And given that pale against black is a beautiful thing, there’s no reason why a black couple couldn’t yearn for a little bit of Caucasian strange. Yet somehow, I see so many searches for “BBC,” but few calls for “BWC.” I’m not sure what that means about anybody.