So you think they are different from white men?”
“Some, yes. But not substantively. Not really. Men are men. Maybe there is less inhibition, maybe more s****l confidence, more s****l prowess…” I turned to him, wanting to look in his eyes, but he kept staring out at the waves, “but I haven’t found you lacking in any of that yourself.” He finally turned toward me, not a smile, but an expression of amusement, perhaps. “I think there was a cultural gap in my experience. I guess I made up for that last night.”
“You want to go back?” he asked.
“I don’t know. But I don’t think so. I could have a black lover if I didn’t have you. But I think I’ve had enough of anonymous fucking.”
“You feel sordid and cheap, maybe?”
“A little.”
“And that’s bad?” He gently pushed my hair from my face. The wind
