“Have you ever fucked a guy in a mating heat?”
He grins. “Plenty of times. To the point I was squirting dust, I was so worn out. It’s fun for everyone involved.”
“What if the omega doesn’t want to fuck others?”
He shrugs. “It’s the hormones or something. I mean, I know guys who are poly or swingers, and when the omega is in a mating heat, the Alpha tosses him into the middle of a bunch of their friends and enjoys the show. And it’s not always an Alpha who’s the dominant partner. Some omegas have more control than others. Some literally can’t remember their own name. In those cases, a mating heat buddy helps keep them safe if they don’t have a dominant partner. If they have a closed relationship, then Goddess help the dominant partner, because he’ll need a strap-on to fuck that omega until his heat passes.”
“How long do they last?”
He shrugs and takes another bite of pizza. “Depends. Usually a couple of days.” I can’t talk because all the blood in my body feels like it’s now in my cock.
“If an omega’s not claimed and there’s some reason he doesn’t want others to fuck him, I mean, I guess he could lock himself in his house, shove the biggest vibrating butt plug inside him he can find, and go through a gallon of livestock birthing lube stroking his cock until he collapses from dehydration or exhaustion. Heard about that a couple of times, but those were not usual situations.”
My tongue feels too big for my mouth. “A couple of…days?”
“On average. I remember one guy was taking all comers for like four days.” He laughs. “Someone finally bought the biggest strap-ons they could find so guys could take turns just lying there and letting the omega ride the dongs.” He snorts and shakes his head. “He slept for about three days straight after and walked funny for a couple of weeks, but he was the happiest motherfucker you ever saw. I don’t think the rest of us who helped out were able to get it up for at least a week or so, he rode us so raw.”
Something tightens in my belly in a good way, because I can see it clear as day in my head, wishing that were me.
“But,” he continues, “if an omega catches pregnant while in a heat, that apparently shuts it down almost immediately.”
“Can that happen with someone they’re not mated to?”
He shrugs. “If the other person is an Alpha, I think so. Now, I know a couple of omegas mated to betas, and both of those omegas have caught and had pups. One of them has three. With their mates, I mean. Like I said, I’m not an omega.”
I sit up a little straighter. “Really?”
“Yeah.” He thinks about it. “Actually, let me backtrack. Seems like about twenty years ago or so I remember hearing about an omega claimed by a gamma, and they wanted a baby. They had a friend of theirs who was an unmated Alpha fuck the omega when he was in a mating heat and he caught.”
“I have so many questions I don’t even know where to start,” I admit.
He smiles. “There’s a quiet network of found-family packs out there. Many with guys like us. Cut off from our birth packs for some reason.” His smile fades. “I was kicked out of mine by my brother when he took over from our father. Dad was killed in a car accident, and he was the oldest Alpha brother. Dad knew I was gay and he didn’t give a shit. My brother gave me and three other guys in the pack twenty-four hours to say goodbye and leave or he’d hunt us down and kill us.”
“Shit! Did you all end up here?”
“Three of us did. One guy moved out west to live with a cousin of his who wasn’t in our pack. She’d married into another pack and they didn’t give a fuck if someone was gay.”
After we finish eating, he consolidates the leftovers into one box. We dispose of our trash and return to the truck, where he hands me a large, clean rag, and points to my head, his meaning clear. “Again, you’ll be safe. This is just to talk.”
I nod and tie the rag around my head. I feel the air move close to me, like he’s waving his hand in front of me, but I even have my eyes closed.
Nothing about this man gives me reason to worry.
“Okay, let’s go do this, pup.” He shifts the truck into gear and off we go.
We drive for about twenty minutes before he slows and pulls off the road onto what feels like a rough dirt road. He’s driving slower now, obviously swerving around ruts or potholes.
After another ten minutes, he stops and shuts the truck off. “Okay, blindfold off.”
While I remove it he’s already getting out of the truck.
It’s maybe an hour before dark, and the wooded clearing is bathed in deepening shadows of green and purple, the sweet tang of rain still fresh in the air. There’s another pickup truck and two guys standing there, leaning against the grill.
I follow Davis, who shakes hands first with the taller of the guys, at least 6’-4”, killer ice-blue eyes a different and sexier shade than my father’s, and thick, black hair untouched by grey, broad-shoulders, fit, likely just under 300 pounds of solid muscle.
This is definitely an Alpha and he smells like a wolf. Most likely the pack Alpha. From the way Davis dips his head and calls him sir, that confirms my suspicion.
The other man is still taller than me even though he’s shorter than the Alpha, maybe 6’-0”, slimmer, brown eyes and shaggy brown hair. He’s broad-shouldered and gorgeous, too. Davis shakes with him next, dipping his head again but not as deeply.
