A movie

Inside Building B—where Group B slept in general—a few members were gathered. Myself included, I was bruised along with a few other Black men, including Driss. The reason was a brawl with Group A, something that had happened often this week. Driss and two comrades had jumped two of James's friends who were mocking them for their inability to improve at Quick Step. The fight was brief but violent, stopped by the MJO guards. I hadn't told Bya anything, just as she had no idea James and I had fought once before because of his provocations.

One day, Malik organized a party in our Building B. We invited the women from Womencool. Lina entered first, followed closely by the others. They were all wearing their uniforms, with pants that showcased their asses. With every step, the fabric stretched over their bouncy buttocks, revealing the firmness of their flesh.

"Thanks for having us," Lina said in a clear voice, breaking the ice. "It reminds me of the good old days in class."

The rest of us nodded.

"Make yourselves at home," Malik replied with a smile, pointing to the couches.

Bya entered last. "Hey Jamal!" she said, visible joy on her face. "Hey!" I replied, smiling back.

I watched the men's eyes devour the women's curves as they settled in. I noticed they had all sat next to each other, leaving no space on the sofas for the men to sit beside them. The atmosphere was calm, almost familial. I loved it, Bya was pressed against me—literally. She had draped a blanket over both of us, nesting her head against my neck while our legs were stretched out on the unfolded sofa.

Ten minutes later, the movie—a film about our city’s history—began. The documentary explained how the Individualists, James's ancestors, had invaded our lands, plundered our magical libraries, and imposed a humiliating segregation.

The film then showed a reenactment. A white policeman—blond and muscular—shot a Black man during a routine stop. Years later, this same man, now a psychologist, was seeing his victim’s widow for consultation. The Black woman, forty-two years old like the white man, was in the depths of depression, knowing nothing of the past of the man listening to her, the latter having left his former life behind.

They had several sessions where the man and woman seemed to grow close, all while maintaining a professional relationship.

At the end of one session, inside the office, the white man stood up, his eyes fixed on the floor.

"I have to tell you the truth," he whispered. "I am the one who killed your husband."

The beautiful Black woman in the tight pants froze. She didn't scream. She simply lowered her eyes to her own hands.

"I’d rather leave," she said simply, her voice hollow.

"It’s late, I’ll walk you to the bus," the man whispered, appearing just as uneasy as she was.

In the next scene, they were on a crowded bus. The woman was standing, the man right behind her. The camera zoomed in: the man had a massive erection bulging in his jeans. My face tightened as I saw the white man press his pelvis against the Black woman’s bouncy buttocks. The white man’s cock was rubbing against the widow’s rear.

"What a pig!" one of the women near me yelled. "He tells her he’s her husband's killer and the next second, he’s rubbing his filthy dick against her ass!"

I was seething. But in the film, the woman turned halfway and whispered: "Not here..."

My blood ran cold. Not here? Did that mean she accepted the idea, but somewhere else?

Now the TV showed them walking in a deserted hallway, where the widow's apartment was. The white man was giving the Black woman little spanks to make her hurry. Every impact echoed in me like an insult... that white hand continuously touching that Black woman’s sexy butt. The white man had killed the Communist husband and was now going to enjoy his wife’s big Black ass in those tight pants. It was the final blow.

The scene that followed showed their tryst. No one in the room spoke, but the air was dominated by the Black woman’s moans as the white man who had killed her husband fucked her from behind, relentlessly thrusting his pelvis against her bouncy buttocks.

"Ah, yes… yes…" the white man whispered, his face tilted toward the sky and his eyes closed, as if he were living the best moment of his life.

The men in the room clenched their fists just like me. "Enough, turn that crap off," one of them snapped. "We’ve seen enough."

The silence that followed was heavy. I went out into the forest to escape this atmosphere of defeat. Walking alone would do me good.

About fifteen minutes later, as I was heading back toward Building B, I caught Driss and Lina by surprise among the trees, still far from the building. They hadn't seen me.

Curious, I stayed hidden to see what would happen.

“So… why did you want to bring me here?” Lina asked, appearing surprised.

“Actually…” Driss began, struggling to look at her. “I’m interested in you. Or more precisely… I’m in love with you.”

Lina’s eyes widened, then she regained her composure.

“Do you feel the same way?” he asked, a flicker of hope on his face.

Lina seemed pensive.

“I don’t know…” she whispered, looking at the ground. “In fact, I’ve never seen any man as a potential boyfriend.”

She seemed to gather her courage, her eyes fixed on him. “I’m sorry. I’d rather focus on the training, for now.”

“I understand,” Driss replied, unable to hide his disappointment.

“I didn’t know you liked to spy.”

I jumped. Turning around abruptly, I saw Bya with a smile.

“I was… I was just curious,” I stammered.

She shrugged as if it wasn't a big deal. “Come, let’s go for a walk,” she said, already starting to move.

“For what reason?” I asked, surprised.

“Why should there be a particular reason? I’m your godmother, after all. We have the right to spend some time alone, don't we?”

That last sentence gave me an erection. As we walked, we began to talk about how the training was going for each of us. Bya told me that all the women were very friendly and helpful, but because of the age difference, she sometimes didn't understand their conversations.

“In spite of everything, we have a lot in common. Do you realize that we are actually all virgins?”

It took all my strength not to scream at this news: Bya was a virgin!? Such a beauty!?

“It's impressive that you’ve found so many people similar to you,” I said, trying to hide my shock.

“Enough about me. How is it going for you?” she asked, her face becoming serious.

I told Bya that everything was going well with the men in my group, but that there were conflicts with those in Group A, even leading to fights. I also told her about the time James beat me. Bya listened intently to the story.

“It makes me angry that he put you through that,” she said, her eyebrows furrowed in anger. “Be careful. This James seems very strong; I don’t want you to get hurt.”

I nodded. I didn't show it, but it made me truly happy to see her worried. She had always been so sweet to me… she is truly the woman I want by my side forever.

I intentionally kept a sad face. “I just hope everything will be okay,” I said, looking miserable.

Bya appeared concerned. My plan seemed to be working. “Could you… could you give me a hug?” I asked.

Bya didn't seem surprised, given the situation. She stepped closer, closing the distance between us. As she reached out her arms, I stopped her.

“No… I’m a man now. It’s easier for me if you wrap your arms around my neck.”

Bya raised an eyebrow but didn't protest. She pressed herself against me, hooking her arms around my neck.

I loved having her against me so much. I love you, Bya. That’s what I wanted to tell her. However, it wasn't the time for a declaration, not yet. I settled for the pleasure given by the sensation of her large breasts against my chest.

Now was the time for the second part of my plan. While I hadn't yet wrapped my arms around her in return as she held me, I placed my hands on the top of her buttocks, just centimeters away from her big rear tight in those pants.

Bya tensed up. However, she didn't pull away, and we stayed like that for two minutes. I wanted so badly to move my hands down to grab her ass, but it was too early for that kind of contact.

After that, we headed back to the party.

A week had passed. I had just woken up in my room after hearing Driss's voice calling for me. “Come quick!” he shouted. It sounded urgent, so I hurried.

I stopped in front of one of the windows of the Group B building. My eyebrows shot up.

I saw all the women from the Womencool group entering the Group A building, including Lina. James was letting them in, a smile on his lips.

“No…”

I saw Bya arriving at the Group A building. All the women had entered now except for her.

Only James and she remained, heading toward the door. James, with his insolent smile, said something to her, but she ignored him, appearing cold toward him. She stepped forward toward the entrance.

James then stepped aside to let her pass. As Bya crossed the threshold, James was ogling her big ass as it swayed, licking his lips. He followed her inside, slamming the door behind them.

My heart was beating at a frantic pace. Breathing was becoming difficult.

“What… What is happening?”