"I hear they can be the length of a horse and as wide as a jar of cling peaches!"

Excerpt from "Black Blood, Black Seed":

"Miss Christina, I simply cannot believe you and Major Adams have gone your separate ways! He is the most eligible bachelor in the county!"

"I had a secret that, as a Southern Woman of Dignity, I could not let him continue to live unaware, if we were to then be together as Man and Wife."

"A secret? Oh, I LIKE secrets! Let me guess!"

"Oh, Louise! You'd never expect it of me, I assure you."

"Is it that you sucked a black man's man-root and swallowed?"

"Dear God, Louise, how did you know?"

"It's the sixties, Christina, the Country is a-changing: nowadays Major Adams wouldn't leave you for a minor indiscretion with a white man: it would HAVE to be a black man…

"Okay…"

"And you ARE a Southern Woman of Dignity: you would never have baby-making relations with a black man, so it had to be that you sucked his man-root."

"Wow: you're good, Louise…"

"And Major Adams is a prideful man: he MIGHT forgive if you immediately spit it out, but he could NEVER accept you swallowing the seed of a black man. Never."

"Well, Louise, that is what happened, pretty much: I sucked a black man's man-root and swallowed his seed, and now I am destined to be alone and forlorn."

"What did it taste like, Miss Christina?"

"What?"

"The black man's seed: what did it taste like? Was it musky and dirty and slave-y?"

"Slave-y? What is Slave-y?"

"The natural essence of Black People, Christina, you silly! No matter how they wash, the Oil of Slavery still exudes from the pores of their dark, musky skin."

"I do not wish to further this conversation, Louise: I am afraid I have said too much, already."

"But was it monstrous, Christina, this black man's man-root? I hear they can be the length of a horse and as wide as a jar of cling peaches!"

"I will say no more, Louise."

"I bet it WAS monstrous. And I bet when his man-root erupted positively QUARTS of seed went rushing down your delicate throat! It must have been horrifying! Did you feel like you were drowning? Did you feel like you were drowning in a torrent of a black-man's slave-y slave-seed?"

"I am leaving, Louise…"

"Okay, maybe it wasn't gallons: I mean, a pint of seed would STILL be plenty to try and swallow, I imagine, even if it came from a tiny Chinaman…"

"Goodbye, Louise…"

"Goodbye, Christina. I'll see you at the Church Social tomorrow: there shouldn't be any black men THERE…"


I am Laslo.


https://althouse.blogspot.com/2016/11/toni-morrison-in-new-yorker-making.html