Bya

I knocked on Bya’s door the following evening, my heart pounding so hard I thought it would explode. My palms were clammy, my throat knotted as if I were swallowing sand. I was wearing a plain t-shirt and jeans that were too wide—nothing to make me stand out, nothing to make me feel less insignificant.

Finally, the handle turned. She appeared.

Her white blouse was skin-tight, strained across her heavy, generous chest, the top buttons ready to give way under the pressure. The thin fabric allowed a glimpse of the black lace underneath, and every breath she took made her massive breasts heave. Her black secretary pants perfectly hugged her wide hips.

"Jamal! My dear!" she exclaimed, her voice warm and joyful, her eyes sparkling.

She opened her arms wide. I stepped forward, hesitant. She pulled me into a sudden hug, and I returned the embrace. Her large breasts crushed against my chest—heavy, warm, overwhelming. My cock twitched violently; fuck, she was still so sexy!

She pulled back, holding me by the shoulders with a huge, motherly smile. "Come in, come in!" she said, turning around.

I followed her. "Shit... that ass!" I thought as I ogled her. It was exactly as I remembered: round as a basketball, far more imposing than Lina’s or any other Black woman’s I had ever seen.

We sat on her worn but comfortable sofa. She crossed her legs. "I’m so happy you got admitted to the MJO!"

I thanked her and told her how much I had trained for it. She smiled, leaning forward, her heavy chest rising. "Surprise: I’ve just been recruited too. They want my profile—my experience."

I blinked, stunned. "You...? Really? Well, I’m not surprised. It's true that you have a lot of experience."

I was incredibly happy that we could be together in the same organization. She smiled. "It’s perfect. I’ll be able to look after you."

An erection seized me. After a moment of silence, she spoke again. "A girlfriend? Anyone making your heart beat faster?" she asked, her head tilted with a gentle look.

I shook my head, embarrassed. "No... nobody."

She sighed—a long, theatrical sigh. "Me neither. Never really found the right one. The guys who hit on me... machos. The kind I hate: those who think women are only good for being fucked."

"They really are pigs," I replied. Despite my words, I would be lying if I said I didn't want to fuck her.

She suddenly jumped up, clapping her hands. "Tomorrow is the first day the recruits meet their superiors. We’re going together. No arguments!"

She was right—tomorrow was the big day, and the idea of going there with her made me happy.

"Yes!"

The next morning, we arrived inside the Recruits' Building. We were in a vast, renovated cafeteria with long tables, folding chairs, and the smell of fresh coffee and sandwiches. About sixty recruits were there: Black men, white men, and Black women. Almost all were my age.

Bya was the oldest. She drew every eye. Both Black and white men stared shamelessly at her heavy breasts and her ass. I walked a bit behind her, just to ogle her rear end, which was constantly provoking my cock.

We settled near a table. Lina appeared shortly after to see me, wearing her usual smile.

"Jamal! And...?"

"Bya, my godmother. Bya, this is Lina. A woman who was in my class."

They shook hands and engaged in conversation. "It’s great to be here!" Lina said, her face lit up.

Bya nodded. "And the missions... protection, infiltrations. I can't wait."

Lina seemed embarrassed despite her smile. "I’m afraid I won’t measure up. I don’t have much confidence."

Bya placed a hand on her arm. "We’ll train. If you were admitted, you must have potential."

I nodded. "Yeah... you’re gifted, Lina. You have to believe in yourself more."

Lina nodded, a smile on her lips. Bya invited her to sit with us, and she accepted. They asked everyone present to come to the center of the cafeteria, away from the tables, to wait for the superiors. The recruits talked and laughed nervously. But the gazes constantly returned to Bya.

Suddenly, like a sixth sense, I turned around. That idiot James was there in the back, staring at Bya—or more precisely, her ass—with wide eyes, as if he couldn't believe it. He whispered something to a white friend, who snickered.

The instructors finally arrived. Four burly, bearded Black men in their forties. They explained the program in clear voices: six intensive months where recruits would learn magic related to infiltration, scouting, and rescue.

"Classes will be held outside, rain or shine, to toughen you up," one said. "Housekeeping chores will be done by robots," added another.

After the presentations, we moved to lunch. I had separated from Bya, who told me she’d like me to leave her alone so she could socialize with the women.

She and the other women were all sitting together at a separate table. In fact, the Black men were all at one table and the white men at another. Sitting with other men at a table, I noticed that the women spoke little to the men—neither to the Black nor the white men. They were surely concentrated and serious about their new status as recruits.

Earlier, I had heard one of them whisper to Lina: "Gotta focus on the career, not the distractions." I wasn't surprised; I knew many Black women of my generation had been raised with the idea of focusing on their careers, and I was 100% convinced that all those present here were virgins.

However, I saw some women in the cafeteria socializing a bit more with the Black men, out of familiarity no doubt. "Hey, Driss, did you see that camouflage spell yesterday? Impressive," Lina said to a muscular Black guy.

A few minutes later, from several meters away, I watched Bya eating calmly, chatting with Lina. She made me go rock-hard every time she leaned over to grab the salt, stretching her buttocks.

At one point, Bya got up and left the cafeteria. Several moments later, the urge to use the bathroom seized me and I left the cafeteria too. The hallway was deserted, cool, with the smell of lemon cleaner.

As I walked, I heard voices. Bya’s, warm. And several young male voices. I approached silently, hiding behind a pillar.

Bya was there, surrounded by four white recruits, with James at the center. They were apparently getting to know each other. She was smiling politely, standing with her arms crossed under her large breasts.

"So your name is Bya. That’s a beautiful name," James said in a charming voice, leaning slightly toward her. "Being the oldest, you must have seen some missions. Tell us a bit. I love hearing stories from pros like you."

Bya laughed softly, polite as always. "Oh, nothing extraordinary. Just experience in protection, in infiltration... But you, at your age, you have the energy. That’s what counts. And you, James? Where are you from?"

"From an influential family," he replied with a brilliant smile, his eyes sliding discreetly over Bya’s breasts. "But here, I’m just a recruit like the others. Well... almost. You have a body made for action, it seems. Do you work out?"

One of his white friends snickered. "Yeah, Bya, you look in great shape. Impressive."

Bya raised an eyebrow but stayed friendly. "Thank you for the comments. Yes, I train a bit. You have to for this job. And you? Ready for the six months outside?"

James had an arrogant smile. "Absolutely. But tell me, Bya, are you single? A woman like you must have admirers everywhere."

She shook her head, laughing again. "Flatterer! But yes, single. And focused on success. No time for that."

Suddenly, she saw some papers on the floor. "First day and someone already leaves trash on the ground," she grumbled. She stepped past James and leaned over to pick up the trash—legs straight and tense, torso bent forward.

James turned around, looking at the older woman. I hated it: Bya’s buttocks were too close to James’s crotch; it was as if she were offering him her ass.

James pretended to hold her and made thrusting motions with his pelvis just inches from Bya’s rear as if he were fucking her, throwing a smile to the others. His white friends snickered discreetly, covering their mouths. Rage rose in me like a volcano.

Bya stood up abruptly, raising a threatening eyebrow. "What’s so funny, guys? Did I miss a joke?"

James shrugged with an innocent smile. "Nothing, nothing! We were just thinking of a stupid joke from last night. Don’t worry about it."

His friends nodded, one of them whispering, "Yeah, nothing serious."

Bya frowned, not seeming quite convinced. "Well, alright. But avoid laughing behind my back."

James suggested in a honeyed voice, "Shall we go back to the cafeteria? Everyone must be hungry. Come on, let's go together."

Bya and the others started walking. James approached Bya, nonchalant. Hardly had his hand landed on the top of Bya’s buttocks when an electrical sound crackled. James pulled his hand back suddenly, swearing through his teeth. "Fuck! What was that?"

His white friends jumped. Bya turned to James, her gaze hard. "Keep your hands to yourself, James. We don't have that kind of relationship for such familiarity. Understood?"

James blew on his hand, grimacing, but his charming smile quickly returned. "Message received. Promised, never again. It was just... friendly."

The other white men, though Bya couldn't see it, seemed amused.

"Whatever," Bya replied coldly. "You can go on without me; I forgot something in the restroom."

I smiled. I was happy that Bya treated him like that, that filthy arrogant prick. Despite everything, I knew James wasn't going to stop there. However, he could try; I wouldn't let him. It was decided. I loved Bya, and the one who would sleep with her would be me.