Hugo was sitting at the foot of the bed when I awoke the next morning. The curtains were still drawn and his skin had a 'post push-ups' glow in the warmth of the semi-dark room. I watched him for a while as he sighed rhythmically and slumped his large shoulders forward, only to sit up straight again and stretch his back. After about ten minutes of just observing him I sat up and scuttled over to him and rested my chest against his back and wrapped my arms and legs around his body. I felt his body suddenly tense at my touch and I wrapped myself tighter around him. I felt a change within him and I recognised his great strength that had always been subdued whenever he handled me. He turned his torso towards me and with one arm pushed me back and further up onto the bed while he used the other to spread my legs. His movements were fast, clinical and cold. His demeanour frightened me a little and as he laid his hard, heavy body over mine and between my parted thighs I pushed my arms against chest to make him back off a bit. My heart began to race and I aborted my attempts at pushing him off in the wake of his physical prowess. Instead, I held onto his waist as I felt his erect cock push at my soft pucker. Hugo took hold of my arms and crossed them over my torso and held them in place. I couldn't move now, even if I wanted to, I couldn't. My body relaxed involuntarily, I closed my eyes and my legs collapsed on either side of him as he took me. He pushed in forcefully, cramming himself all the way into me. My breath was literally fucked out of me and this time there was no comforting voice reminding me to breath. There were no voices at all; just Hugo's persistent grunting as he powered himself into me over and over again. He pounded my flesh for what seemed like hours and by his second ejaculation I felt my own sphincters contract sharply and saw cum oozing out of my own cock. I resolutely laid my head back and waited for Hugo to finish with me. After he orgasmed one more time he finally pulled his moist, swollen cock out of me. He let go of my arms and lifted himself out from between my legs. He wouldn't look at me and as I watched him walk towards the bathroom he wiped his cheek with the back of his hand. I heard him pee a heavy stream and turn on the shower taps. I couldn't move. There was no more pain, only numbness. I was unsure and confused about what had just unfolded. I mustered enough strength to touch myself where Hugo had touched me too harshly. I felt raw and wet and I lifted my fingers to my face only to see them coated in Hugo's cum. I continued to lay there. Hugo finished showering and proceeded to dress. He sat on the bed, put on his socks and shoes and walked toward the bedroom door. I heard him stop in the doorway and stand still for a few seconds before leaving the house. I only moved an hour later, once the tears and cum had dried, once my legs regained sensation and once the ensuing coldness of the room had settled in my bones.
Hugo's unusual sexual behaviour continued for the rest of the week. Every morning he would wake me up by lying on top of me and spreading my legs. He would then screw me for an hour or so before getting up, showering and leaving for work. When he had left the house I too would get up, shower, have breakfast and leave for work in Cape Town. In the evenings everything went on as normal. Hugo was understandably quieter than usual seeing as his beloved grandfather had just passed away, but he wasn't any less loving and caring towards me than before. We lived quite normally and neither of us seemed ready to broach the subject of his confusing behaviour. I decided to attribute it to his sense of powerlessness in what had happened to his grandfather. Maybe he regained some of that power by dominating me in bed. The sex was uncomfortable and painful before the numbness set in, but he didn't bruise me or break any of my bones, so I let him have it. I loved him and it made him happy, for the lack of a better word, then I wasn't going to deny him that.
Life away from home flew by quite pleasantly. Working with Marianne was both new and interesting. We worked at her home at the foot of signal hill overlooking the Atlantic Ocean. Her house was large, white and absolutely gorgeous and had attained it after a messy divorce from her ex-husband who was an investment banker. She had a large office space with desks and sofas on which we all sat and drank copious amounts of tea and threw around creative ideas which materialised as artistic design, future clothing lines and the ad campaigns that would accompany them. I contributed to all parts of the creative process and enjoyed the freedom to share whatever was on my mind, not that all of it was taken seriously. The people that I worked with were extremely helpful and never hesitated to teach me new things. I soon noticed that all of Marianne's employees had a little bit of her in them which made collaboration effortless and easy. Levi, Marianne's son who I had met the day of my interview, being on holiday from school would often wander around the house and inquisitively inquire about the work we were up to. With his bleach blond hair and sky blue eyes he enjoyed charming the crowd and, as much as Marianne loved and adored and paid him exuberant amounts of attention, she often had to shoo him away so as to increase our productivity.
By the end of the week Hugo had begun packing for his trip to France where he would bury his grandfather. I started packing my things for Clare and Dane's wedding in Langebaan. Hugo's flight departed on the Friday evening and I left work early to bid him and his father farewell. Once I had watched the plane fly off into the distance and I could no longer make out the red and white flicker of the light, I left the airport and returned to an empty home. I had supper with my parents and brothers that evening. I packed in a few final things and made sure I had all of the correct suits for myself, Dane and the rest of the groomsmen. I had offered to pick them up earlier in the week to make sure they met my expectations.
I left home early on Saturday morning and booked onto the resort at which the wedding was to be held. A whole cluster of rooms had been pre-booked for close family and friends of the bride and groom, and we all stayed in relatively close proximity to each other. The day progressed slowly and it being almost mid-year, we were blessed with beautiful weather. This came in handy as it was an outside beach wedding for which tables had been set and dance floor arranged on a large deck on the sand. By 4 o' clock I was dressed and went to make sure that Dane and the others were ready too. Being gay and a friend to both the bride and groom made me some sort of liaison between the two and their respective parties, and I made sure each group were moving according to the schedule. By 5 o'clock everyone was seated on their respective side of the aisle at the head of which I stood with Dane, the minister and other groomsmen in front of an arch adorned with white roses and lilies. Clare walked down the aisle, her lacy chiffon dress a breath of fresh air, arm in arm with her father. The ceremony was short and sweet after which everyone proceeded to the reception on the beach. The food, music and company were great and a warm breeze played across the sea and sand. Many of the guests I hadn't seen in many years came up to me and we caught up delightfully while others noticeably kept their distance. I for one couldn't care less. It was a beautiful evening and my two best friends were married! The only thing missing was Hugo and I longed to dance with him. The jazz band that had been hired began playing a set of slow songs and couple were rounded up on the dance floor so not to waste the blissful music. I sat and watched the couples dance a few songs while sipping champagne. I large hand suddenly appeared in front of my face. I looked up to see Dane's handsome face.
'Care to dance with the groom?' he asked.
'Only if your wife doesn't mind,' I said smiling.
'What she doesn't know won't hurt her,' he retorted playfully.
'That is such a married thing to say,' I said laughing as I gave him my hand and he led me to the dance floor. Dane put his arm around my waist and pulled me closer. I put my left hand on his right shoulder. We swayed slowly to the music.
'You missing Hugo?' he asked intuitively. I smiled.
'You can tell huh?'
'From a mile away,' he whispered secretively into my ear.
'Is that why you asked me to dance?'
'No, maybe, no. I actually just wanted a moment alone with you.'
'Well, you have me now.'
'I know, and I just wanted to thank you for everything you've done for me and the wedding. You've made everything thing so much easier. You had a rough time when you were away and you jumped right into the wedding preparations without a second thought and I just wanted you to know how much I appreciated it.'
'Look Dane, I know I was away for a long time, but not once did I feel that our friendship had diminished over that period. I came back with the more love and appreciation for you guys and it was only natural for me to jump in and help make this day special for you two.'
'Just you being here makes it a thousand times more special, you know that?'
I blushed at his comment before he kissed me lightly on the cheek and spun me around a few times before the dance ended.
'May I cut in?' came Clare's voice from behind Dane, 'I'd like a dance with my oldest and dearest friend,'
'If you are referring to your half drunk glass of wine, it's over there on the table,' joked Dane with his wife.
Clare nudged him away and he shrugged and left us to dance. Now I took Clare by the waist and her hand rested on my shoulder. The changed amused me somewhat and I smiled and rested my forehead against hers.
'Your husband is very secure of his sexuality,' I commented.
'Good! I'm so horny, I can't afford him not to be!' blurted Clare.
We both burst out laughing at her oh so elegant revelation and didn't stop until the song had ended.