I have an admission to make. I have a thing for ethnic men. I have a thing for dark skin. Sometimes for long, lovely hair. For lovely, dark eyes. For beautiful souls and joyful, artful spirits peaking through the manly exteriors. Think Troy Polamalu. Or Larry Fitzgerald.* Both of whom I have called “My Football Boyfriends” for the last several years. Marc has joked many occasions that if I left him it would...








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