Black New World Ch. 07 - Day 88

Chapter 7: Day 88 -- Jules get to know the boys

"Today, Frederic Weber, the last white minister of the government, retires for sick-leave, only three days after that it was announced that he is in fact infected by the S4B7-virus," a blond news reporter in a tight suet announces. She continues: "Duante Jackson will be appointed the new minister of social affairs, and from today, he will be in charge of all of Weber's former duties... Critics have pointed out, that the government no longer has any white representatives, as any of the former white MP's have yet to return after their leave of absence..." Razi switches the TV-canal.

"Crazy times, huh... Well, now its time for some ball," he says. He is sitting in one of the sofas together with Denzel, Kadeem, Mashawn and Naeem. They all sit laid back in the three sofas which form a half-circle around the TV-table and TV. I'm standing at the kitchen table, next to the sofa-group, pouring some orange juice in a glass. Denzel notices me and yells:

"Hey Jules, why don't you join us for some soccer."

Even though we all live in the dormitory, I still feel shy around them because I haven't talked to them much in the two weeks since I moved in.

"Thanks. But I'm not much into soccer," I lie to come up with a excuse. Before the pandemic, I actually played a lot of soccer in my spare time.

"Come on, Jules. Everybody loves a good game. Why don't you want to hang out with us," Denzel continues, trying to persuade me.

"Since all of the white folks have gone sick - he probably doesn't want to watch how the teams has changed," Mashawn takes over.

"No, no. It's not that... I don't have any problems with black people playing," I explain.

"Well, that's good, because that's all there is these days," Naeem says.

"Why don't you come then?" Denzel continues. "There is space here," he points at the sofa where he and Kadeem are sitting.

"Okay then," I agree since I can't come up with any other excuses. As I move closer, Denzel moves a bit to reveal a spot in between him and Kadeem. Just as I'm about to sit down, Kadeem asks:

"Hey Jules, can you bring me a beer from the fridge since you're already up."

"Sure, of course," I reply. As I reach the fridge, Mashawn yells:

"Just bring a six-pack. Then there is one for each of us."

I open the fridge and notice that the whole bottom row is full a beer-cans.

"Alright," I yell back nervously. I return and bring a beer to each of them by walking in between the TV-table and the sofas. They all just sit laid back, with their big legs reaching out. I almost fall twice as I hand over the cold cans to them one by one.

"Thanks, you're a champ," Kadeem says as I give him a beer as the last one. I put the last beer at the TV-table and sit down between Denzel and Kadeem's muscular legs.

"The last one is for you, of course," Denzel says. I haven't had a single alcoholic drink since the virus. With a hesitating voice, I reply:

"I'm good. I don't drink much at the moment."

He looks surprised at me.

"What? How else are you coping with all of this shit going on?" He laughs.

"Well..."

"Come on. It will cheer you up," he says and cuts me off.

"One more for me then," Kadeem laughs.

"Don't be rude, Kadeem. It's Jules," Denzel replies.

I reluctantly take the can and pop it open. They all cheer, and I sip a bit from the can. They chat and watch the soccer match. I try to follow, but I feel a bit aloof as I find myself in this group of black men. Denzel and Kadeem's big thighs are pressing against mine as they spread there legs in the sofa. I can't concentrate on the game. I just watch as the soccer players, all black men, passes the ball to each other. From time to time, they yell angrily at the TV, and the next, they cheer.

"Who are you cheering for Jules?", Denzel asks. Not really knowing what team to pick, I tactically choose the team where I have heard them cheer the most.

"Well, I used to like AC Milan a lot. But to be honest, I haven't followed much lately."

"Too bad. They have really advanced a lot since the contracts and transfers from the Confederation of African Football were successful."

"Jules, do mind getting another batch? I cannot leave this game. It killing me," Razi asks excited as Milan is just about to score.

"Sure, no problem," I respond. Happy to get out of the awkward situation of being squeezed by the legs of Denzel and Kadeem. As I get up, I can already feel the alcohol in my blood. Two sips, and I already feel dizzy. When I move in front of Denzel, he taps my ass:

"Hurry up Jules. You can't miss this attack."

Perplexed by his touch, I quickly head to the fridge and grabs another six-pack. But as I get back and pass in between two of the sofas, my foot hits a can of beer. The can falls, and beer pours out all over the floor.

"Oh... I'm so sorry," I excuse myself with a fearful voice. It must have been Mashawn's.

"Hey whitey, watch your steps," he yells. I swallow a lump. He seems upset.

"Sorry, Mashawn. I didn't see it," I reply, trembling.

"Well, don't worry... We got plenty. Just hand me another," he then laughs. I rapidly bring him a new beer. His anger disappears as quickly as it came. I give the rest of the six-pack to Denzel, and then I find a cloth in the kitchen.

When I get back, I notice that the beer has run in between the sofas and beneath the glass TV-table. I drop down on all fours and begin to scrub the floor. As I crawl in between their legs, I can feel their eyes on me, but when I look up, it seems like they are completely occupied by the game. To my frustration, the beer has run far below the table which consists of two big glass plates of different heights. The lower one doesn't leave must space to the floor so I have to lower my body almost all the way to the floor. I rest my knees on the floor as my upper body and arm reach down below the table. While I dry the floor, I become awkwardly aware that my butt sticks directly upwards in the air in the direction of Denzel. I twitch my body a little bit from side to side as I stretch my arm to reach the end of the spill of beer. My buttocks shakes a bit from the motion. Embarrassed from the awkward position, I hope they don't notice. To my surprise and horror, I feel something pull in my shirt as I try to slide my body away from under the table. Again, I push my body backwards, pointing my ass even further up, but again my shirt is holding me back. It's somehow stuck to the table, and as I try to move, it is being pulled towards my face so my lower back and stomach is revealed. I panic a bit and shake my body to each side, making the fat of my ass dance to the rhythm. In fear, I ponder about how to escape this humiliating position. I can't turn my arm around and reach whatever is holding me back.

"Are you okay down there, Jules?" Denzel asks.

"Yeah... Well. I think I'm stuck somehow," I reply ashamed.

"Stuck? How did you manage that?" he laughs.

"I think it's my shirt," I stutter. I must look like a complete idiot to them.

"Let me help you. Maybe I can pull you out," Denzel says. He then grabs my hips tightly and pulls my ass. I moan as my body is forced backwards, but my t-shirt is still stuck, resulting in it being tugged over my chest and head.

"His shirt is stuck, you dummy. This isn't helping," Razi grins.

"At least I'm doing something. Do you have a better suggestion?," Denzel yells back.

"Looks like it's stuck in the bar which holds the glass plates together. Maybe a screw or something."

"Sure Einstein, but that doesn't help much," Denzel replies.

"Well, I don't know, I'm watching the game," Razi says.

"We can't just leave him there until the match is over," Denzel continues, still holding my hips.

"Do you mind if I pull, Jules? Then maybe you t-shirt will be pulled off," Denzel suggests. I'm stunned by the humiliation situation. But fearful of the thought of them just leaving me like this, I stutter: "Sure, thanks Denzel."

He then takes a firm grip around my hips and pull me towards him. My butt hits his body as I slide along the floor. I feel utterly helpless and pathetic. But for some reason, my heart starts to pound with excitement as I feel him close to my ass. The humiliation makes my head spin. I feel weak and pathetic as I'm in the mercy of his strong hands. Luckily but on purpose, I'm wearing a t-shirt two sizes too big. It slides over my head fairly easily. He pulls again. This time with his hands all the way up around my waist. I moan as his strong hands press into my sides just below my ribs. The t-shirt leaves my head and glides over my arms as I'm freed. With a hand on my back, he guides my now naked upper body around and away from the table. I'm completely baffled as I now stand with a naked torso. He puts a hand on my bare shoulder and asks if I'm okay. My nipples tingle and tighten. Ashamed, I'm aware of how my pointy chest must look to them.

"Jules, are you okay?" Denzel repeats himself.

"Yeah, I guess," I can feel their eyes on me. Unwillingly, my cock begins to grow in my pants.

"You look cold," Denzel says, looking at my chest.

"Yes, at bit," I lie. I feel the opposite. Blood rush through my body, and my face feels as it burns.

"Here, you can borrow my cardigan. After the match, we can untie your t-shirt," he hands me a black sweater with a zipper.

"Thanks, Denzel," I gratefully say with big eyes, like he just saved my life. I put it on. It feels at least three sizes too big for my thin body, but I feel safe again. It stinks of his strong cologne, but somehow the strong scent calms me down.

"And thanks for saving me from that table. It really raised my claustrophobia," I smile and tries to laugh a bit to show that I'm okay again.

"No problem," Denzel says proudly and taps my shoulder so hard that my whole body shakes.

"You really panicked for a moment there," Mashawn says and laughs a bit.

"Like a fish caught in a net," Kadeem laughs. I can feel how blood flows to my face and makes it even more red. I try to laugh with them, but I feel completely stupid.

"Come on guys. Don't be rude," Denzel defends me.

"We're just joking. Come on. You must admit that he looked quite funny being stuck in that position. I'm sure Jules is able to see the irony of it all."

"Yeah, I guess, I must have looked quite ridiculous like that," I say, and they all laugh.

"Let's continue with the game," Denzel says and jumps back into the sofa. I squeeze my ass down between Denzel and Kadeem's thighs. Denzel hands me my beer.

"You almost haven't touched it," he says perplexed. I grab it and sip a bit from it. As they watch the match, they chat, drink and cheer. I zone out a bit, trying to get control of my confused thoughts. But then, suddenly, I feel a hand on my right thigh. I freeze. My body feels like it's about to explode, but for some reason do I not dare to say anything. The hand squeezes my thigh a bit. They all just keep talking about the game. I slowly look down with my heart racing from the feeling of horror and curiosity. It's Denzel's big, muscular hand. Shyly, I look at him with the corner of my eyes. He is a deep discussion with Mashawn about who is the best offensive player, and he doesn't seem to notice me. They laugh about something, and his hand slowly moves down the inner side of my thigh. It tickles my sensitive skin, and my body shivers. Suddenly, my uncontrollable boner is back. I'm angry about myself of how my body responds to the grooming, but I just sip my beer, not knowing how to react. A strange, exciting feeling emerges. I feel protected on the one hand, but on the other in total control of his strong body. The anger slowly turns into a warm, tingling sensation in all of my body as he gently rubs my inner thigh. My anxiety slowly vanishes, and it is with a dizzy head that I can feel how my muscles relax as I lean down into the sofa between their shoulders. My heart pounds, and my hard cock pushes against the fabric of my trunks.

"Jules! Why are you not answering? Who do you think is going to win?" Kadeem asks.

"What? Sorry..." I say as mind my returns from my thoughts.

"Well, since your are not following at all, do you mind making some popcorn?" He then asks before I find the words to answer his question.

"No.. I mean, sure. I can do that," I say confused and dizzy from the alcohol.

As I get up, Kadeem smacks my ass and says:

"Thanks, whitey."

Baffled with strange, exciting emotions, I trip with quick, light steps to the kitchen and prepare the popcorn in the microwave. I'm baffled by the way the treat me, but somehow it ignites an exciting and curious sensation in me.

"Hey Jules, can you please pass the popcorn between us? Razi always keeps them for himself," Mashawn asks as I return with the big bowl of popcorn.

"Sure," I reply happy to help. Somehow I feel an urge to help and please them. I start with the sofa where Razi, Naeem and Mashawn are sitting. I bring the bowl to Razi, and he grabs a big handful. I then move in front of him, in between the table and his legs, to pass the bowl to Naeem.

"Hey move our big butt. I cannot see anything," he grins and taps my ass. Shocked, I quickly move along, but I walk right into Naeem's legs which are stretched out on the table. I stumble and try to keep the bowl of popcorn in balance as it almost flies over the legs of Naeem. But as a result, I just loose my own balance even more. With a scream, I then trip and fall over his legs. Luckily, Mashawn catches me before I hit the floor. The bowl is not so lucky. It flings to the floor and scatters popcorn everywhere.

"Hey! Watch your steps white boy," Naeem yells. I awkwardly move across his legs and down from Mashawn's arms.

"Sorry," I respond disoriented.

"You're a clumsy one," he laughs.

"Well. Maybe, you could have moved your skinny legs, so he could have passed," Denzel defends me.

"I were watching the game... And who are you calling skinny?!" He angrily snaps back. "I can beat you any day in leg press."

"Bullshit, last time I did 200 kilos," Denzel says in a daring tone.

"Yeah right, you can't even do a squad probably," Naeem grins.

"We both know that my legs are bigger than yours," Denzel fights back.

"Pff... your butt is... If you are so sure, then let's test it," Naeem says.

"Sure, but we both know who Mashawn, Razi and Kadeem are going to vote for... Jules can be the judge. He is neutral," Denzel suggests. They both stare at me, waiting for an answer.

"Sure. Of course, I guess," I nervously reply, not knowing what I'm signing up for.

They both get up and stand a bit away from the sofas.

"Come Jules, you are going to decide who has the biggest thigh-muscles," Denzel orders. Naeem is wearing shorts, and Denzel sweatpants. Denzel pulls his pants down below his knees. His white pair of boxer briefs sits tight to his black skin.

"H.. How am I going to decide," I stutter as I try to get my eyes off his underwear.

"We flex and you decide," Denzel reply.

"No that's too loose, he should measure by hand," Naeem suggests.

"Okay," I agree with a beating heart.

"You ready? Come closer," Naeem says as he flexes his leg by bending it a bit in a lunge. I drop down on my knees next to him and try reach my hands around his leg. To my surprise, his thigh is way to big. With my fingers placed beneath, my thumbs only reach up the sides of his buffed thigh-muscles. I continue the measuring by moving my middle finger to where my thumb end. I'm stunned of how well trained he is. I can almost put four of my hand lengths around his thigh.

"Alright, my turn," Denzel says and flexes his leg. I crawl up next to him and do the same measurement. I cannot stop to feel amazed as I move my hands across his big legs. His white boxer briefs contrasts his dark skin perfectly. For at short moment, I'm baffled of myself and what I'm doing. But then my mind goes blank when I see the bulge in his underwear. And it looks like it's growing! A strange arousal makes my heartbeat race. I loose the count of the measurement.

"Well... Who is the biggest?" Denzel asks.

"It's really close," I reply and start over again. It try to focus on the measuring. But the burning excitement in my stomach makes it hard to concentrate. Finally, it seems like Denzel is a tiny bit bigger. With a shaky voice, I announce my result.

"Alright! I knew it," Denzel shouts with a deep voice. Amazed by his outburst and happiness, I also notice that it seems like the bulge in his underwear has grown even further.

"What... Bullshit," Naeem says discouraged.

"It was really close," I say apologetic. "You are both really buffed and fit. It was hard to measure."

"Hrm. That calls for a recount then... Of the other leg, this time," Naeem says.

"Come on, you two! Get over yourself!" Kadeem yells and laughs at them.

"It's so typical of you too. You two might as well pull out your cocks and measure them - to get it over with." I'm shocked at his words, but Mashawn and Razi laughs loudly.

"Hah, we both know who would win that one," Denzel says confidently and pulls down his boxer brief to reveal his big, black cock. I'm shocked and amazed of the view as I'm still standing on my knees next to him. He only has a semi-boner and yet his cock is truly massive. I'm completely baffled by it's enormous girth. It must be at least 8 inches around the shaft.

"Come one Denzel, your brute. It was a joke.. A joke!" Kadeem yells. The others burst out in laughter.

"Pull up your pant, man. And let's finish the match. It's almost over."

"Bahhh... Fuck you guys. But now we know who has the biggest one, and who has the ball to show it," he replies, trying to hold his pride. But I could see that he blushed a bit, probably ashamed, when they were laughing at him.

"We all know you have a fat one, but length also matter," Naeem says in a provoking way.

"Okay enough, you two boys. Will you sit down, for gods sake..." Razi yells at them. Denzel puts his pants up, and they both sit down. I also sit down again, but I cannot get my mind of his giant of a cock. They all start to chat and talk about the game unless Denzel. He seems more silent than before and sits with his arms crossed. I suddenly feel bad for him. He had been really sweet and helpful towards me. He had defended me several times, rescued me from the table and lend me his cardigan. The others had been really unfair towards him when they mocked him. For a while, I wonder about what to do or say. I then bend my head a bit close to his ear and quietly say:

"You were definitely bigger than Naeem, with out a doubt." His body position loosen up a bit, and he suddenly smiles.

"I knew it. Thanks Jules," he claps my thigh a bit and leaves his hand there. After a while, he begins to caress my inner thigh and slowly moves his hand towards my crotch. My skin tingles and sends jolts of pleasure up through my body. I can't believe it, but the arousal slowly overwhelms my body and thoughts.

"What's up with me," I desperately think.

All of a sudden, Khalon enters the common room.

"Hey Khalon. I thought you were with Jadyn at the café. What are you doing here?" Razi greets him.

"I were. Now we are off to the mall. I'm just picking up my bag," Khalon replies.

"Why don't you join us for the last 5 minutes?" Mashawn asks. Khalon approaches the sofas, and I suddenly feel a strange emotion of betrayal in me, as Denzel is still caressing my leg. Khalon doesn't seem to notice or care.

"Hey Jules, I didn't know that you were into soccer," Khalon says and smiles. Before I have the time to reply, they all shout and cheer when AC Milan scores just two minutes before time. Denzel squeezes my thigh as he cheers excitedly. I cry out in pain, but they doesn't seem to notice.

"Well, this match is decided, and I have to get going. See you guys," Khalon says after they calm down.