Under African Skies

HOLA PEEPS!! It's your boy Ryan with another story thought out of sheer boredom loool.

The idea of a white man and a coloured man in post apartheid South Africa has always fascinated me. Thought I'd give it a shot.

Feel free to gimme some feedback! liciousryan@gmail.com Love always and stay safe, Ryan.

UNDER AFRICAN SKIES CHAPTER ONE

"Daddy, Kyle is pulling my hair!"

"She's lying, I'm just holding it up for her!"

"Kids, stop bothering your father and give him a chance to come home peacefully for God's sake!"

"DADDDDDYYYYY!!!"

Urgh...the sheer joys of these precious family moments...

"Hey Jess. Should I dare ask what's going on up there?"

"Not much more than usual. Your son is clearly on his way in coning a future serial irritant. Hello Luv," Jess said before kissing my forehead and giving me a warm, welcoming hug.

My wife knew how hard a day at the office was, especially when I had managed to lose a case that I was so sure I would win by a landslide, earlier that afternoon.

However, when a client you're defending in court is not one hundred percent honest with you and even more, makes YOU look utterly incompetent in in front of the judge, it tends to fuck up your day just a tad.

God, I could kill Jason Smith. I asked the idiot over and over if there was something his ex-wife could use against him in the custody battle they had going on and he specifically told me several times that there wasn't. So this afternoon, as I pleaded my case for joint custody in front of the judge AND my colleagues, guess who marched in there, red dress and all, and solemnly and sweetly played damning DVD footage of the two of them in bed?

The fucking nerve.

The fact that Jason Smith had an affair with his wife's sister and the fact that, in the video, his voice could be heard saying...'oooh you're such a better fuck than you sister', let's just say it severely counted against the both of us.

The custody was awarded solidly to his wife and I in turn lost a ton of money and it made me look a right prat in front of my boss.

So to then come home and have my own two kids scream and shout and beg for my attention when I was in this kinda mood was not something I was looking forward to. God knows, I loved Jess, as well as the twins Becky and Kyle, to bits. But every now and then a guy needed some alone time. Which I clearly wasn't gonna find at this moment with two five year olds bouncing at the bit to have some quality time with their daddy.

"I didn't wanna cook tonight, so I thought we could take the kids out for a burger at Spur. That okay?" Jess said as she released me from the hug, allowing Becky and Kyle to take her place.

"That's...fine. I'll just have a quick shower and then we're ready to go", I replied and quickly ruffled the twin's hair before jogging upstairs. I turned on the shower taps to allow the cold water to heat up.

Jess wants to go out for dinner. Not that we can exactly afford it...but she obviously had a day from hell with the twins so I couldn't blame her for not wanting to cook. Money was just a little bit tight right now.

Urgh...how the hell did I get HERE? To THIS exact point?

As always, when things with my family got a little tense, I allowed my mind to think back to the distant past. It was the only thing that worked. Thinking how good things USED to be...

Wow...should I really call it distant, when in fact it was only thirteen years ago?

Some teenagers today will agree in a heartbeat.

That feeling of utter helplessness which seemed to surround me as I saw that time recreated inside my mind's eye. When everything seemed so good and...beautiful in one moment, only to have it momentously destroyed in the next.

If Jess knew...if she had any idea that she wasn't the true love of my life...she'd be devastated.

Mortified...disgusted?

I took my phone out of my jacket pocket and entered the password. I eagerly logged into my Facebook account and immediately scrolled to where my profile pictures where.

Down and down until I reached the first one I had ever posted on the social media app. The one of me...and my best friend with our arms around each other. Smiles and teeth for the world to see. My word, we were so happy that day. My sixteenth birthday and everything seemed so...so easy and reachable. No dreams were slashed back then. No hopes dashed.

I could still feel his arm around me. There was more to that gesture, that met the eye. We both knew it was more, way more than friendship. Having feelings for another man, another boy, was frowned upon in the Afrikaans community of South Africa. What was even more frowned upon...

...was being in love with a coloured boy.

I closed my eyes and clenched my fists. Why was he still inside my head after all these years? Why couldn't I just appreciate the life God gave me and accept He blessed me with a lovely wife and two kids...perhaps even more to come in future?

My heart ached as I was saw his smile. That charming, energetic, cheeky chappy laugh that only he could have possessed. The times and the love we shared. The beautiful friendship that played out between two boys who reluctantly allowed it to become much, much more.

"Tiaan! Are you almost done? We need to go, these little monsters are getting restless and hungry!"

Jess. Bless her. She truly loved and cared for me. I didn't know where I would have been without her support and endless devotion.

Sighing, I put my phone on the bed and got undressed. In to the shower. Everything happening as mechanical as fuck.

Get a grip, Tiaan. You haven't seen him for over thirteen years. You have to forget him.

My stiffening cock told me another story.

**

Spur Steakhouse were busy as hell. It usually is in the middle of the week when people were either too tired or too lazy to cook for their families. My kids immediately took off towards the Playing Area, and I silently thanked technology for the millionth time that the restaurant had installed TV screens where you could keep an eye on them at the comfort of your table.

I ordered a T-Bone steak, well done as always, whilst Jess decided on a chicken salad. As well as burgers and fries for the kids. As Jess made the effort for small talk, I found myself listening less and less. Seeing him on that photo reopened every painful memory of how our time together had ended. My butch Afrikaans parents.

God. Racist as they come. They hated coloured and black folk with a passion that scared the living shit outta me. To this day, my father cannot complete a sentence when talking about politics without saying the forbidden "K-Word" several times.

Our food arrived and I went to fetch Becky and Kyle to come and eat their dinner. Or should I say, munch down half of it, get a gazillion crumbs and sauces on their clothes and suddenly they were back on their way to play with the other kids inside the Kiddie Corner, as the restaurant called it.

Had a feeling those two might be asleep in the car before we reached home, the way they were already making friends.

Jess ordered another coffee for herself while I made my way to the Kiddie Corner to call the kids as we were about to leave in a few minutes. There was no way I would allow them as messy as they were to get into my brand new car.

Call me fussy...I worked hard to earn that new BMW and as much as I loved the twins, there were standards I needed to maintain.

Alarmingly, I found Becky crying inside the play area with Kyle pushing around another brown skinned little boy.

"Hey! Kyle! Stop that! What's going on here?" I hissed as I got between my son and the other boy.

"He started it! He didn't want Becky to play horsey!" my five year old told me with fierce determination.

I looked back at my daughter who had immediately stopped crying and waddled over to me, clutching my arm.

"Hit him, Daddy!" she pouted.

I had to choke back a laugh.

"Kyle, say sorry to the boy. He didn't push you, did he?"

Kyle's pout was even worse when he realised his beloved daddy was NOT gonna hit the other boy.

"Kyle..."

"Sorry," My son mumbled. If looks however, could kill, the little brown skinned boy would be six feet under right then.

I was about to get up from my knees and leave when a shadow cast over me.

"Donny? What's going on here? Who are you? What do you want with my son?"

Urgh and to think I didn't even wanna come...Rising up from my kneeling position I grabbed the hands of both my children and I was about to apologise before...

God.

No.

It can't be.

His eyes seemed to change colour the moment he saw my face...and recognised I was.

Thirteen years wasn't an eternity, after all.

"Tiaan...? Oh wow...is that, is it really you?"

My heart was besting so fast I honestly thought I was in cardiac arrest.

"Jonathan. I guess it is. Me, I mean. And you...I mean..."

"What's taking so long...oh. Is there a problem, Luv?"

JESS! I had completely forgotten about her...

"Hey Hon...uhm...look, this is...this is Jonathan. An old friend of mine from when I grew up on the farm. Jonathan, this is my wife, Jess."

I could see Jess's eyes being well impressed by what she saw as she finally got a good look at him.

I couldn't blame her. Not in the slightest.

Jonathan Cupido was even more handsome than I ever thought he could have become. Times during these last thirteen years, I often found myself wondering how he turned out.

He was already a damn sexy teenager back then, during out days on the farm. But not even in my sheer wildest dreams, and fantasies could I have expected him to look anything like...well, this.

His skin was that exact light shade of African brown that I had gotten to know so well. His eyes were still a mixture of black and darkish blue. He was wearing an ordinary white t-shirt, jeans and Bronx. Complete with a silver chain around his neck. His curly, peppercorn-like hair was all gone. Bald as the day he was born. And my God...didn't he just OWN that look...

Jess shook his hand whilst the kids completely forgot that they were mortal enemies only minutes before and were already back to playing with the games that the restaurant had provided.

"Lovely to meet you, Jonathan. Tiaan, I'm gonna pay the bill and wait in the car while you guys catch up. Don't be too long though, the kids need to get to bed. See you again, Jonathan," Jess said with a friendly smile...a little too friendly towards Jonathan, if you asked me.

Suddenly, with Jess gone and our kids playing on the Nintendo's...it was just me and him.

"I'm...I'm sorry. If I knew you were here..."

"Don't be daft. Why should you avoid a Spur just because I'm here?"

Jonathan's eyes flickered towards his own son, before those beautiful, stunning pools of water landed back on mine.

"I guess not, hey. You, you look good. I mean...wow..."

A smile formed around the corners of my mouth.

"Me? Have you looked in a mirror lately?"

Jonathan looked like he wanted to say more, but he just smiled and gave me a friendly oat on the shoulder.

"Donny! Come on, we gotta go."

The little brown skinned boy immediately dropped the Nintendo he and Kyle were playing with and waddled over to his father. Gosh...it was only then that I saw how much the little tyke looked like his father.

"Becky, Kyle, you guys come too. Its nearly bedtime."

Turning around I clearly saw Jonathan's eyes quickly flickering away from my upper body the moment I caught him sneaking a peek.

God. This ain't happening. Not again. I'm married with kids, for fuck sake! We are not seventeen anymore!

"Uhm...would you ever...I mean if you would ever wanna get a drink? Can I give you my number? Look, I understand if you don't want to. It's just...thirteen years, T. We need to talk. We need this. I need this."

Without thinking I grabbed my phone from my jeans's pocket and gave it to him. He took it and quickly entered his mobile digits before swiftly giving it back.

"Thanks. And T...please call me. Okay? Please."

"Will your wife be joining us when I do?"

Jonathan held his son's hand even tighter than before.

"She passed away giving birth to Donny. And, we weren't married."

Low blow, Tiaan.

"I'm sorry. I just...I guess I just don't know what there is to say or what we can talk about, now that so much time has passed. I'll call you. I promise."

Jonathan smiled softly, before reaching out with his free hand, offering a handshake.

In return, I extended my own and gripped it firmly inside his.

A strong current of electricity blasted through me. I dunno about him, but it felt like he was pouring his soul into me my the simple touch of our fingers. It was magic. Majestic. It felt...it felt like nothing I had ever had with Jess.

I don't think you could ever quite explain it to another human being unless they have felt it and experienced it themselves.

With a final grip of my hand, Jonathan picked up his son and quietly left the Spur. He did not look back.

I watched from the Kiddie Corner how they got into a small, economic car and sped off into the night. I could still smell his aftershave where he stood just moments before.

The twins. Jess was waiting. I gotta...yeah. We had to get home.

**

I made a point to check on the twins shortly after midnight. Both were sound asleep, as were Jess. She near damn had to be considering the ass fucking I gave her.

Yeah man...I pounded that sweet pussy until she shrieked into several orgasms. I drilled her ass into a genuine cream pie with my potent cum still smearing her delicate and roughed up vagina with my white load.

And why am I telling you lot all of this? Because every second my cock went in and out of that pink mess...all I could think about was Jonathan.

God...the mess we used to get up to.

Living and growing up on a farm deffo has its advantages. Open air, fresh meat and dairy products week after week, swimming inside those genuine old fashioned farmer's pools that don't even exist anymore.

Taking your crush to one of the stables and fucking the shit out of each other was another added bonus, as Jonathan and I readily discovered. Back then, when it was just that...a simple crush.

I poured myself a glass of milk before placing it inside the microwave to warm up. I carefully took out a small bottle of rum that I kept for personal use out of the cupboard and poured a toddy into the warm milk. Old farmers and wife's tale...if you struggled to sleep.

I fondly remembered the first time I saw Jonathan. Thinking back made me tear up so much that I closed my eyes and willed out the happy memories.

Suddenly I was right back there. On the farm. Smelling my mother's homemade bread and freshly brewed coffee. Jars and jars of jam stashed across the canvas.

My father in the fields, attending to his livestock and his farm workers...all of which were coloured and black respectively...being yelled at and belittled because the white farmer was the boss and had the right to treat his workers like shit.

I can remember one particular day, my mom telling me that old Elsie, our maid of thirty something years had decided to retire and that her daughter Melody, was coming from the rural towns to replace her. She, however, asked for special permission to bring her children along.

My father, being the narcissistic racist he always had been, only allowed Melody's son to join her on the farm as he could work in the fields. We didn't need anymore house workers.

I know, right? In those days, things were very different in rural South Africa. In some instances, it still is to this day.

Days later, I was busy reading my Lord of the Flies book for a huge English exam when I heard a knock at the door one afternoon. Knowing my parents had gone to the co-operation, I dashed towards the living room and opened it.

Before me stood an overweight, friendly toffee coloured woman who had a warm, friendly smile. I immediately saw traces of Elsie in her features and knew this must be Melody, our new maid. I instinctively saw something in her whole persona and demeanour that made me like her instantly. She seemed a genuine, nice person with a heart of gold.

That, I was yet to discover, was more true than I ever could imagine.

"Afternoon my Baas. Can Baas show my son where the servant quarters is? Your mother told me we will be sharing a room."

"Oh, it's around the corner of the house near the stables. I'll take him there. And please, Melody, please don't call me Baas. Please. My name is Tiaan."

Emotion crept over her cheeks and her eyes suddenly swam in a few tears. I knew what a derogatory name "Baas" as to coloured and black people in this country. For a mere white boy to tell her what I did, meant the world to her.

As I went outside I saw a young boy of about fourteen, perhaps fifteen standing a few feet away from me. It was like he was hesitant to come closer.

He was wearing hand-me-downs that looked ancient. Nevertheless, they were clean and he was neatly dressed. Curly hair was splattered over his skull and he stood looking straight me with the most beautiful eyes and features that I had ever seen.

My fifteen year old brain couldn't understand what it was telling my body...here I was...Tiaan Labuschagne...who had the girls from neighbouring farms after him like bitches on heat...never in his life has he ever been attracted to other boys...and here he was...warmth spreading through his chest like wildfire with his eyes on the new maid's teenage son.

"Hi...I'm Tiaan. You are?"

The boy carefully stood upwards and walked about three steps forward.

"Jonathan, Baas."

Ouch. That hurt. I hated that word.

"Dude, seriously, never call me that. It's Tiaan, okay?"

Although not as an emotional reaction as his mother gave me, but there was still a flickering nonetheless of amazement.

"Come on! Lemme show you where your room is!" I said with a friendly smile before I saw him pick up the remainder of the suitcases and black bags they had bought with them. Fucking hell, there was no way he'd carry all that in one go.

In seconds, I was at his side, picking up those which he obviously couldn't.

"Baas, please, if the Groot Baas (my dad) and the Madam (my mom) see you helping me they'll send us back! No Baas, you can't help me..."

"Jonathan...I really, really HATE that word. And I want to help. Let's go! Besides, my parents aren't home!" I shouted for the world to hear as us two boys, one as Caucasian as they come, the other, as caramel as the African Amarula liqueur, made our way across the yard towards the stables where the servants quarters were situated.

When we finally had every ounce of baggage they had, safely tucked into the room, I heard a car in the driveway. My parents were back.

"They'll wanna meet you and your mom. Just smile and nod, okay? My dad is kinda a big racist," I mumbled. For some reason I couldn't look him in the eye when saying that.

"No worries. We're used to that. Granny Elsie told us about him," Jonathan said, wiping a whiff of sweat from his forehead.

I felt so sorry for him right then, about the sheer unfairness of how you were still treated in this country if your skin wasn't white.

I saw my dad getting out if the car, yelling to my mom to make him some coffee. As I turned back towards Jonathan though, I saw he had removed the shirt he was wearing.

My God.

His skin was flawless. His abs were rock hard and defined. Even I didn't have a set of pectorals that look like that! And due to all the work here on the farm, I had a decent set of muscles myself.

His biceps flexed under the supple caramel skin...his nipples were dark brown...and he had lots of hair underneath his arms.

"Got to look my best for the boss, right?" he said smilingly as he retrieved a freshly ironed shirt from his trunk and sprayed on a little deodorant.

"You look...good. Yeah. That's the word...uhm...shall we go?" I asked, not waiting for an answer.

I guess I had never been into girls that much...I mean there were the occasional farm dances, the parties thrown, the birthdays and the special occasions...but at fifteen, I was a total virgin. Never gotten to second base.

Was I always gay, and I just didn't realise it? Was that even possible?

There simply wasn't an explanation of what I was feeling right then. The sudden unexplained attraction to another boy...it wasn't normal...it wasn't right!

**

As the introductions happened my father made it very clear to Melody and to Jonathan that they had to know their place.

Speak when spoken to and to behave on the white man's land. If me or my mother needed anything, they were to drop what they were doing and assist us. They were not allowed inside the house without permission. No guests without permission. Paid below minimum wage.

I never thought I could hate my father more than I did. But there you go.

Elsie must have prepared them, like Jonathan said because both him and Melody just stood there and took the abuse. They were poor, desperately needing employment. My heart ached for both of them.

The thing was...I was an only child. Any friends I had lived miles away in the towns or on neighbouring farms and it would take forever to get here. Now, suddenly in my life, there was a boy, my age, and I wasn't allowed anywhere near him. All because of stupid racist bigots like my dad.

I was lonely and for years, I craved a brother or a sister, or even just a good friend here on the farm.

Jonathan was here. He would be right there, close to me. That beautiful boy with his robust brown skin and friendly, mischievous smile.

**

His number was listed on my phone. He had placed it there himself. I scrolled down my contacts to find it. He had placed it under "Jono".

Oh wow...T and Jono. The nicknames we had for each other. The sneaky little shit. He knew this would make me tear the fuck up.

If his number was on my phone, it would appear on my WhatsApp. Sure did.

His profile picture was of himself and his son, little Donny. Father and son stared into the camera as if nothing were more important in life than each other.

How many times...didn't we have the exact same look in our eyes for each other, my dude...I wondered silently.

It was like my fingers started typing the keys by themselves...

"You were right. We need to talk. Meet me at my office. Declan Manor, fifth floor. Van der Bergh and Associates. I'm available after two."

I hesitated before sending. I thought of Jess, the person who had been with me through thick and thin these pas seven years. Five of those years with our twins, the most precious gift any woman could give a man...children.

I felt guilty. This wasn't fair towards them. They didn't deserve me feeling like this for another male.

It wasn't like me and Jonathan was going to start a full on affair though...we just needed to get some closure. The closure we never had.

My eyes burned as the image of two white farmers dragging Jonathan out of the stables, kicking and screaming entered my mind...he sounded so desperate...the farmers shouting at back him to shut his filthy brown bek (mouth).

All I could see, as I was stopped from running after the boy I loved with all my heart, was my father grabbing me by my shirt and giving me a pummeling that I would never forget.

His agonising cries as he too was beaten by those white savages was the last time I ever saw of him...until tonight at the restaurant.

I needed this. God forgive me.

Send.

Done.

Now we wait.

THANKS FOR READING!!

If anyone in South Africa is reading this, I'd especially really like to hear from you on this topic of "forbidden love".

All feedback is welcome as always xx

liciousryan@gmail.com