You can watch Vice's Mandingo documentary here.
More fun for today.
I am a bit of a prude. One of my standing rules for sex with women who are not "black" or "African-American" is that I am not interested in being some type of racially objectified object. I will not lay post-coitus with you and comment on the beauty of your good Asian/South Asian/Native American/Hispanic/or "White" Hair. Not my thing. I also would be repulsed if you started inserting "black" before the various demands and instructions you are whispering in my ear as we make the beast with two backs. Such utterances would totally take me out of my necessary mental space. The lingam would be distracted; the jade stalk would become sad.
I will never be the Mandingo in the Mandingo Party. I am too short, not dark enough, insufficiently endowed, and would find something a bit off about the whole deal.
Would I go to one of these gatherings? Absolutely. Would I watch. Yup. Would I want to discretely use the hand sanitizer after leaving. Damn straight.
These Mandingo Parties are performances of "blackness" and "black authenticity" which intersect with the sexual which I would not find attractive or sexy. I would never deny someone their own pleasure. It is simply not a role I am willing to play.
However, in that context, I am well qualified to direct and give advice on how to act sufficiently "black" in order to please the white women who are the objects of black lust and their cuckolded white partners. I charge by the hour. I am not hard to find.
And yes, I would love to direct a Mandingo event or attend in an anthropological and/or research capacity only.