Brooke Banner goes into a goofball trance every time she looks at a black man. Her mind disappears into a cloud of hazy smoke, and she plays with herself a lot, fashioning impetuous dreams of rascally Motown love. Unfortunately Brooke's own man is of a different hue and likes ballet. Perhaps a little too much. Never one to argue on behalf of subtlety or the finer points, Brooke took matters into her hand one afternoon. Realizing now was as good a time as any, she brandished a smile and Roscoe- the man she brandished the smile at- knew exactly what was next. He had seen a cuckold movie. He knew that he'd inseminate Brooke and that Brooke's man would taste his salty product. Roscoe liked it. Perhaps a little too much.