John Price

John knew that he’d be obligated to find a mate at some time during his life. It was burned into his skull as a teenager, reminded to him relentlessly in his twenties, and eventually forced upon him in his early thirties. He knew why, but it didn’t mean he liked it. Alphas could be territorial, especially when having a mate. John knew that an alpha too deep in their rut could easily hurt his own omega or beta, or someone else’s. Alphas could ruin an entire sub-species.

So John knew why it was important, but he valued his career at the time. He wasn’t focused on finding a mate, even if his instincts gnawed at his bones like a disease itching to be set free.

Now, even when John didn’t find it important, he certainly didn’t miss the longing an alpha would have when lacking a mate. Eventually, yes, he did get himself an omega, but it wasn’t out of choice.

{User} was younger than him, but was hitting the point in their life where they craved the mating portion of being an omega. Fertile, yes, which made John question why they hadn’t yet been bred. Though, when he first met them, the scent was dull, like it had been supplied with too many suppressants and weakened the effect it had. He felt bad for them, but it didn’t mean he liked them. He simply understood that both of them were forced into this.

{User} seemed just as avoidant, and understandably so. John figured the hidden scent glands indicated that a fear of alphas was drilled into their skull, just as the necessity of mating was drilled into John’s. Alphas were a cruel species, but John was able to get any cruelty he might have felt out on operations. It kept him calmer at home, which probably helped build the bond of trust before John retired. He was gone enough to allow {User} that space, but present frequently enough to let that weak bond strengthen.

Only two years into their marriage, John retired from the military after finally defeating the worst of terrorists. The job of Task Force 141 would never be complete, but his job was. He saw it in the faces of the soldiers he passed, the solemn but proud look they gave him. John had done his part.

The decades to come filled John with a sense of dread. He felt like he had no purpose, none important enough to fulfill his instincts or life desires. Little to his knowledge, he soon found that purpose a few weeks into retirement.

It wasn’t {User}’s first heat, but it was their first with an alpha, which only worsened the symptoms and severity. John remembered the way he had cuddled beside them, holding them close while breathing on their neck. Occasionally, he would pull their wrists to his mouth, giving slow open-mouthed kisses before kissing each knuckle. John hadn’t even mentioned sex to {User}. He simply remembered pushing his pants down enough to let his cock out. He remembered the lack of fight in {User}’s body, the way they willingly let him push his cock inside them. He hadn’t eaten them out, and hadn't been too touchy. John simply gave them what they needed. He watched for any negative reaction, but never got any. He remembered the flinch when he knotted them, but nothing that made it seem like they hadn’t wanted it.

John was sure that was what helped their bond grow. They talked together more often, even began sleeping in the same bed. {User} was finally being treated like a partner two years into their marriage.

Eventually, there was enough trust between them. John could recite what {User} said word for word. He could practically feel the memory each time he remembered {User} saying they wanted to try for a baby.

---

A mile into the woods, rain was pouring down the windows at a steady, calm pace. John had his arms wrapped around {User}’s waist, nose against their neck as they slowly came to their senses. Both were still sleepy, but both were happy enough to recognize the other person beside them.

John had discarded his clothes the night before, wearing nothing but the boxers. He knew the routine in the morning, as {User} had just started their heat–a perfect time to try for a baby. But they weren’t hardcore railing like feral rabbits. John was slow, easing them into consciousness with his cock.

His arm was wrapped around their throat, keeping their head up while holding them close. His right hand was against their thigh, keeping it out of the way as his cock thrusted into their cunt slowly. He wasn’t going too deep, wasn’t creating a harsh pace. He’d do that only after they were fully conscious.

“Pretty baby,” he cooed, his nose nuzzling against the side of their neck, smelling the dull but present scent of their heat. “You with me?”

He knew they were, but he liked the look on their face when they woke up. “Look at me, sweet baby.” John shifted a tad bit deeper, trying to elicit a response from his sleepy partner. “You feel that? Is that good?”

John knew that he’d be obligated to find a mate at some time during his life. It was burned into his skull as a teenager, reminded to him relentlessly in his twenties, and eventually forced upon him in his early thirties. He knew why, but it didn’t mean he liked it. Alphas could be territorial, especially when having a mate. John knew that an alpha too deep in their rut could easily hurt his own omega or beta, or someone else’s. Alphas could ruin an entire sub-species.

So John knew why it was important, but he valued his career at the time. He wasn’t focused on finding a mate, even if his instincts gnawed at his bones like a disease itching to be set free.

Now, even when John didn’t find it important, he certainly didn’t miss the longing an alpha would have when lacking a mate. Eventually, yes, he did get himself an omega, but it wasn’t out of choice.

{User} was younger than him, but was hitting the point in their life where they craved the mating portion of being an omega. Fertile, yes, which made John question why they hadn’t yet been bred. Though, when he first met them, the scent was dull, like it had been supplied with too many suppressants and weakened the effect it had. He felt bad for them, but it didn’t mean he liked them. He simply understood that both of them were forced into this.

{User} seemed just as avoidant, and understandably so. John figured the hidden scent glands indicated that a fear of alphas was drilled into their skull, just as the necessity of mating was drilled into John’s. Alphas were a cruel species, but John was able to get any cruelty he might have felt out on operations. It kept him calmer at home, which probably helped build the bond of trust before John retired. He was gone enough to allow {User} that space, but present frequently enough to let that weak bond strengthen.

Only two years into their marriage, John retired from the military after finally defeating the worst of terrorists. The job of Task Force 141 would never be complete, but his job was. He saw it in the faces of the soldiers he passed, the solemn but proud look they gave him. John had done his part.

The decades to come filled John with a sense of dread. He felt like he had no purpose, none important enough to fulfill his instincts or life desires. Little to his knowledge, he soon found that purpose a few weeks into retirement.

---

It wasn’t {User}’s first heat, but it was their first with an alpha, which only worsened the symptoms and severity. Stomach aches increased, the horniness was worse with the idea of a potential mate, and they were so wet it was leaking down their thighs.

And as a good partner, Price wanted to help. He had them cuddled up in his bed, his arms wrapped around their waist while he breathed against their neck. He’d occasionally pull their wrists to his mouth, giving little open-mouthed kisses before kissing each knuckle. He wanted to soothe them without being too invasive, but he knew the quickest and most proper way to soothe that ache inside them was through sex.

So Price took it slow. Even if he didn’t directly ask, they seemed compliant. He knew they heard the sound of him shifting his pants off because they had peered back for a moment. But they didn’t push him away, and that was the sign of permission he needed.

He knew they weren't a virgin, so he knew he didn’t need to kid-glove them. He was still gentle, yes, but he was more willing to lift their leg up against their side without preparing them too much. He didn’t have to. He knew they were wet enough, but Price still used his finger against them, gently pressing against their hole. His finger slipped in, pressing inside that tight hole. The arousal coating their cunt only made the wet noises more noticeable. Price knew his fingers were thick, but that wetness completely let him slip a second finger in without any kind of resistance. He did feel them clench, but nothing that pushed him out.

“There you go. Feel nice?”

He knew it did. They weren't noisy, but based on the way they relaxed, he knew it was good. Soothing, even. He knew it helped the itch inside them, the urge to be bred. That was what an omega wanted, wasn’t it? Their body did, at least. Maybe not the individual, but the body.

Price curled his fingers inside them, feeling their pussy stretch around his fingers. He loved how soaked they were, the sensation of that slick coating his fingers and getting his palm sticky.

But he didn’t want to use up all that sticky substance, so he removed his fingers and wiped the wetness against his cock. He moved his hand around {User}’s stomach, his fingers guiding his cock to their hole, the head pressing against the resistant skin. He nudged his cock in, guiding it into their hole as he kept their hips steady. Price fucking loved the feeling of that warmth coating him, how wet they were around his cock. How compliant.

John knew that he’d be obligated to find a mate at some time during his life. It was burned into his skull as a teenager, reminded to him relentlessly in his twenties, and eventually forced upon him in his early thirties. He knew why, but it didn’t mean he liked it. Alphas could be territorial, especially when having a mate. John knew that an alpha too deep in their rut could easily hurt his own omega or beta, or someone else’s. Alphas could ruin an entire sub-species.

So John knew why it was important, but he valued his career at the time. He wasn’t focused on finding a mate, even if his instincts gnawed at his bones like a disease itching to be set free.

Now, even when John didn’t find it important, he certainly didn’t miss the longing an alpha would have when lacking a mate. Eventually, yes, he did get himself an omega, but it wasn’t out of choice.

{User} was younger than him, but was hitting the point in their life where they craved the mating portion of being an omega. Fertile, yes, which made John question why they hadn’t yet been bred. Though, when he first met them, the scent was dull, like it had been supplied with too many suppressants and weakened the effect it had. He felt bad for them, but it didn’t mean he liked them. He simply understood that both of them were forced into this.

{User} seemed just as avoidant, and understandably so. John figured the hidden scent glands indicated that a fear of alphas was drilled into their skull, just as the necessity of mating was drilled into John’s. Alphas were a cruel species, but John was able to get any cruelty he might have felt out on operations. It kept him calmer at home, which probably helped build the bond of trust before John retired. He was gone enough to allow {User} that space, but present frequently enough to let that weak bond strengthen.

Only two years into their marriage, John retired from the military after finally defeating the worst of terrorists. The job of Task Force 141 would never be complete, but his job was. He saw it in the faces of the soldiers he passed, the solemn but proud look they gave him. John had done his part.

The decades to come filled John with a sense of dread. He felt like he had no purpose, none important enough to fulfill his instincts or life desires. Little to his knowledge, he soon found that purpose a few weeks into retirement.

---

It wasn’t {User}’s first heat, but it was their first with an alpha, which only worsened the symptoms and severity. Stomach aches increased, the horniness was worse with the idea of a potential mate, and they were so wet it was leaking down their thighs.

And as a good partner, Price wanted to help. He had them cuddled up in his bed, his arms wrapped around their waist while he breathed against their neck. He’d occasionally pull their wrists to his mouth, giving little open-mouthed kisses before kissing each knuckle. He wanted to soothe them without being too invasive, but he knew the quickest and most proper way to soothe that ache inside them was through sex.

So Price took it slow. Even if he didn’t directly ask, they seemed compliant. He knew they heard the sound of him shifting his pants off because they had peered back for a moment. But they didn’t push him away, and that was the sign of permission he needed.

He knew they were a virgin, so he knew he needed to kid-glove them. He was still gentle, yes, but he was more willing to lift their leg up against their side without preparing them too much. He didn’t have to. He knew they were wet enough, but Price still used his fingers against them, gently pressing against their hole. His finger slipped in, pressing inside that tight hole. The arousal coating their cunt only made the wet noises more noticeable. Price knew his fingers were thick, but that wetness completely let him slip a second finger in without any kind of resistance. He did feel them clench, but nothing that pushed him out.

“There you go. Feel nice?”

He knew it did. They weren't noisy, but based on the way they relaxed, he knew it was good. Soothing, even. He knew it helped the itch inside them, the urge to be bred. That was what an omega wanted, wasn’t it? Their body did, at least. Maybe not the individual, but the body.

Price curled his fingers inside them, feeling their pussy stretch around his fingers. He loved how soaked they were, the sensation of that slick coating his fingers and getting his palm sticky.

But he didn’t want to use up all that sticky substance, so he removed his fingers and wiped the wetness against his cock. He moved his hand around {User}’s stomach, his fingers guiding his cock to his hole, but his focus being on their clit. Something to soothe him. He knew with how soaked he was, it wouldn’t hurt too much, but it would still hurt.

Price didn’t warn them. He simply used his fingers against their clit, then moved them down to spread their pussy so he could gently press the head of his cock against his hole. Nudging, testing.

“It’ll be a big stretch, sweet boy. Try to stay still for me.”

John knew that he’d be obligated to find a mate at some time during his life. It was burned into his skull as a teenager, reminded to him relentlessly in his twenties, and eventually forced upon him in his early thirties. He knew why, but it didn’t mean he liked it. Alphas could be territorial, especially when having a mate. John knew that an alpha too deep in their rut could easily hurt his own omega or beta, or someone else’s. Alphas could ruin an entire sub-species.

So John knew why it was important, but he valued his career at the time. He wasn’t focused on finding a mate, even if his instincts gnawed at his bones like a disease itching to be set free.

Now, even when John didn’t find it important, he certainly didn’t miss the longing an alpha would have when lacking a mate. Eventually, yes, he did get himself an omega, but it wasn’t out of choice.

{User} was younger than him, but was hitting the point in his life where he craved the mating portion of being an omega. Fertile, yes, which made John question why he hadn’t yet been bred. Though, when he first met him, the scent was dull, like it had been supplied with too many suppressants and weakened the effect it had. He felt bad for him, but it didn’t mean he liked him. He simply understood that both of them were forced into this.

{User} seemed just as avoidant, and understandably so. John figured the hidden scent glands indicated that a fear of alphas was drilled into his skull, just as the necessity of mating was drilled into John’s. Alphas were a cruel species, but John was able to get any cruelty he might have felt out on operations. It kept him calmer at home, which probably helped build the bond of trust before John retired. He was gone enough to allow {User} that space, but present frequently enough to let that weak bond strengthen.

Only two years into their marriage, John retired from the military after finally defeating the worst of terrorists. The job of Task Force 141 would never be complete, but his job was. He saw it in the faces of the soldiers he passed, the solemn but proud look they gave him. John had done his part.

The decades to come filled John with a sense of dread. He felt like he had no purpose, none important enough to fulfill his instincts or life desires. Little to his knowledge, he soon found that purpose a few weeks into retirement.

It wasn’t {User}’s first heat, but it was his first with an alpha, which only worsened the symptoms and severity. John remembered the way he had cuddled beside him, holding him close while breathing on his neck. Occasionally, he would pull his wrists to his mouth, giving slow open-mouthed kisses before kissing each knuckle. John hadn’t even mentioned sex to {User}. He simply remembered pushing his pants down enough to let his cock out. He remembered the lack of fight in {User}’s body, the way he willingly let him push his cock inside him. He hadn’t eaten him out, and hadn't been too touchy. John simply gave him what he needed. He watched for any negative reaction, but never got any. He remembered the flinch when he knotted him, but nothing that made it seem like he hadn’t wanted it.

John was sure that was what helped their bond grow. They talked together more often, even began sleeping in the same bed. {User} was finally being treated like a partner two years into their marriage.

Eventually, there was enough trust between them. John could recite what {User} said word for word. He could practically feel the memory each time he remembered {User} saying he wanted to try for a baby.

---

A mile into the woods, rain was pouring down the windows at a steady, calm pace. John had his arms wrapped around {User}’s waist, nose against his neck as he slowly came to his senses. Both were still sleepy, but both were happy enough to recognize the other person beside them.

John had discarded his clothes the night before, wearing nothing but the boxers. He knew the routine in the morning, as {User} had just started his heat–a perfect time to try for a baby. But they weren’t hardcore railing like feral rabbits. John was slow, easing him into consciousness with his cock.

His arm was wrapped around his throat, keeping his head up while holding him close. His right hand was against his thigh, keeping it out of the way as his cock thrusted into his cunt slowly. He wasn’t going too deep, wasn’t creating a harsh pace. He’d do that only after he was fully conscious.

“Pretty boy,” he cooed, his nose nuzzling against the side of his neck, smelling the dull but present scent of his heat. “You with me?”

He knew he was, but he liked the look on his face when he woke up. “Look at me, sweet boy.” John shifted a tad bit deeper, trying to elicit a response from his sleepy partner. “You feel that? Is that good?”

John knew that he’d be obligated to find a mate at some time during his life. It was burned into his skull as a teenager, reminded to him relentlessly in his twenties, and eventually forced upon him in his early thirties. He knew why, but it didn’t mean he liked it. Alphas could be territorial, especially when having a mate. John knew that an alpha too deep in their rut could easily hurt his own omega or beta, or someone else’s. Alphas could ruin an entire sub-species.

So John knew why it was important, but he valued his career at the time. He wasn’t focused on finding a mate, even if his instincts gnawed at his bones like a disease itching to be set free.

Now, even when John didn’t find it important, he certainly didn’t miss the longing an alpha would have when lacking a mate. Eventually, yes, he did get himself an omega, but it wasn’t out of choice.

{User} was younger than him, but was hitting the point in his life where he craved the mating portion of being an omega. Fertile, yes, which made John question why he hadn’t yet been bred. Though, when he first met him, the scent was dull, like it had been supplied with too many suppressants and weakened the effect it had. He felt bad for him, but it didn’t mean he liked him. He simply understood that both of them were forced into this.

{User} seemed just as avoidant, and understandably so. John figured the hidden scent glands indicated that a fear of alphas was drilled into his skull, just as the necessity of mating was drilled into John’s. Alphas were a cruel species, but John was able to get any cruelty he might have felt out on operations. It kept him calmer at home, which probably helped build the bond of trust before John retired. He was gone enough to allow {User} that space, but present frequently enough to let that weak bond strengthen.

Only two years into their marriage, John retired from the military after finally defeating the worst of terrorists. The job of Task Force 141 would never be complete, but his job was. He saw it in the faces of the soldiers he passed, the solemn but proud look they gave him. John had done his part.

The decades to come filled John with a sense of dread. He felt like he had no purpose, none important enough to fulfill his instincts or life desires. Little to his knowledge, he soon found that purpose a few weeks into retirement.

---

It wasn’t {User}’s first heat, but it was his first with an alpha, which only worsened the symptoms and severity. Stomach aches increased, the horniness was worse with the idea of a potential mate, and he was so wet it was leaking down his thighs.

And as a good partner, Price wanted to help. He had him cuddled up in his bed, his arms wrapped around his waist while he breathed against his neck. He’d occasionally pull his wrists to his mouth, giving little open-mouthed kisses before kissing each knuckle. He wanted to soothe him without being too invasive, but he knew the quickest and most proper way to soothe that ache inside him was through sex.

So Price took it slow. Even if he didn’t directly ask, he seemed compliant. He knew he heard the sound of him shifting his pants off because he had peered back for a moment. But he didn’t push him away, and that was the sign of permission he needed.

He knew he wasn’t a virgin, so he knew he didn’t need to kid-glove him. He was still gentle, yes, but he was more willing to lift his leg up against his side without preparing him too much. He didn’t have to. He knew he was wet enough, but Price still used his fingers against him, gently pressing against his hole. His finger slipped in, pressing inside that tight hole. The arousal coating his cunt only made the wet noises more noticeable. Price knew his fingers were thick, but that wetness completely let him slip a second finger in without any kind of resistance. He did feel him clench, but nothing that pushed him out.

“There you go. Feel nice?”

He knew it did. He wasn’t noisy, but based on the way he relaxed, he knew it was good. Soothing, even. He knew it helped the itch inside him, the urge to be bred. That was what an omega wanted, wasn’t it? Their body did, at least. Maybe not the individual, but the body.

Price curled his fingers inside him, feeling his pussy stretch around his fingers. He loved how soaked he was, the sensation of that slick coating his fingers and getting his palm sticky.

But he didn’t want to use up all that sticky substance, so he removed his fingers and wiped the wetness against his cock. He moved his hand around {User}’s stomach, his fingers guiding his cock to his hole, the head pressing against the resistant skin. He nudged his cock in, guiding it into his hole as he kept his hips steady. Price fucking loved the feeling of that warmth coating him, how wet he was around his cock. How compliant.

John knew that he’d be obligated to find a mate at some time during his life. It was burned into his skull as a teenager, reminded to him relentlessly in his twenties, and eventually forced upon him in his early thirties. He knew why, but it didn’t mean he liked it. Alphas could be territorial, especially when having a mate. John knew that an alpha too deep in their rut could easily hurt his own omega or beta, or someone else’s. Alphas could ruin an entire sub-species.

So John knew why it was important, but he valued his career at the time. He wasn’t focused on finding a mate, even if his instincts gnawed at his bones like a disease itching to be set free.

Now, even when John didn’t find it important, he certainly didn’t miss the longing an alpha would have when lacking a mate. Eventually, yes, he did get himself an omega, but it wasn’t out of choice.

{User} was younger than him, but was hitting the point in his life where he craved the mating portion of being an omega. Fertile, yes, which made John question why he hadn’t yet been bred. Though, when he first met him, the scent was dull, like it had been supplied with too many suppressants and weakened the effect it had. He felt bad for him, but it didn’t mean he liked him. He simply understood that both of them were forced into this.

{User} seemed just as avoidant, and understandably so. John figured the hidden scent glands indicated that a fear of alphas was drilled into his skull, just as the necessity of mating was drilled into John’s. Alphas were a cruel species, but John was able to get any cruelty he might have felt out on operations. It kept him calmer at home, which probably helped build the bond of trust before John retired. He was gone enough to allow {User} that space, but present frequently enough to let that weak bond strengthen.

Only two years into their marriage, John retired from the military after finally defeating the worst of terrorists. The job of Task Force 141 would never be complete, but his job was. He saw it in the faces of the soldiers he passed, the solemn but proud look they gave him. John had done his part.

The decades to come filled John with a sense of dread. He felt like he had no purpose, none important enough to fulfill his instincts or life desires. Little to his knowledge, he soon found that purpose a few weeks into retirement.

---

It wasn’t {User}’s first heat, but it was his first with an alpha, which only worsened the symptoms and severity. Stomach aches increased, the horniness was worse with the idea of a potential mate, and he was so wet it was leaking down his thighs.

And as a good partner, Price wanted to help. He had him cuddled up in his bed, his arms wrapped around his waist while he breathed against his neck. He’d occasionally pull his wrists to his mouth, giving little open-mouthed kisses before kissing each knuckle. He wanted to soothe him without being too invasive, but he knew the quickest and most proper way to soothe that ache inside him was through sex.

So Price took it slow. Even if he didn’t directly ask, he seemed compliant. He knew he heard the sound of him shifting his pants off because he had peered back for a moment. But he didn’t push him away, and that was the sign of permission he needed.

He knew he was a virgin, so he knew he needed to kid-glove him. He was still gentle, yes, but he was more willing to lift his leg up against his side without preparing him too much. He didn’t have to. He knew he was wet enough, but Price still used his fingers against him, gently pressing against his hole. His finger slipped in, pressing inside that tight hole. The arousal coating his cunt only made the wet noises more noticeable. Price knew his fingers were thick, but that wetness completely let him slip a second finger in without any kind of resistance. He did feel him clench, but nothing that pushed him out.

“There you go. Feel nice?”

He knew it did. He wasn’t noisy, but based on the way he relaxed, he knew it was good. Soothing, even. He knew it helped the itch inside him, the urge to be bred. That was what an omega wanted, wasn’t it? Their body did, at least. Maybe not the individual, but the body.

Price curled his fingers inside him, feeling his pussy stretch around his fingers. He loved how soaked he was, the sensation of that slick coating his fingers and getting his palm sticky.

But he didn’t want to use up all that sticky substance, so he removed his fingers and wiped the wetness against his cock. He moved his hand around {User}’s stomach, his fingers guiding his cock to his hole, but his focus being on his clit. Something to soothe him. He knew with how soaked he was, it wouldn’t hurt too much, but it would still hurt.

Price didn’t warn him. He simply used his fingers against his clit, then moved them down to spread his pussy so he could gently press the head of his cock against his hole. Nudging, testing.

“It’ll be a big stretch, sweet boy. Try to stay still for me.”

John knew that he’d be obligated to find a mate at some time during his life. It was burned into his skull as a teenager, reminded to him relentlessly in his twenties, and eventually forced upon him in his early thirties. He knew why, but it didn’t mean he liked it. Alphas could be territorial, especially when having a mate. John knew that an alpha too deep in their rut could easily hurt his own omega or beta, or someone else’s. Alphas could ruin an entire sub-species.

So John knew why it was important, but he valued his career at the time. He wasn’t focused on finding a mate, even if his instincts gnawed at his bones like a disease itching to be set free.

Now, even when John didn’t find it important, he certainly didn’t miss the longing an alpha would have when lacking a mate. Eventually, yes, he did get himself an omega, but it wasn’t out of choice.

{User} was younger than him, but was hitting the point in her life where she craved the mating portion of being an omega. Fertile, yes, which made John question why she hadn’t yet been bred. Though, when he first met her, the scent was dull, like it had been supplied with too many suppressants and weakened the effect it had. He felt bad for her, but it didn’t mean he liked her. He simply understood that both of them were forced into this.

{User} seemed just as avoidant, and understandably so. John figured the hidden scent glands indicated that a fear of alphas was drilled into her skull, just as the necessity of mating was drilled into John’s. Alphas were a cruel species, but John was able to get any cruelty he might have felt out on operations. It kept him calmer at home, which probably helped build the bond of trust before John retired. He was gone enough to allow {User} that space, but present frequently enough to let that weak bond strengthen.

Only two years into their marriage, John retired from the military after finally defeating the worst of terrorists. The job of Task Force 141 would never be complete, but his job was. He saw it in the faces of the soldiers he passed, the solemn but proud look they gave him. John had done his part.

The decades to come filled John with a sense of dread. He felt like he had no purpose, none important enough to fulfill his instincts or life desires. Little to his knowledge, he soon found that purpose a few weeks into retirement.

It wasn’t {User}’s first heat, but it was her first with an alpha, which only worsened the symptoms and severity. John remembered the way he had cuddled beside her, holding her close while breathing on her neck. Occasionally, he would pull her wrists to his mouth, giving slow open-mouthed kisses before kissing each knuckle. John hadn’t even mentioned sex to {User}. He simply remembered pushing his pants down enough to let his cock out. He remembered the lack of fight in {User}’s body, the way she willingly let him push his cock inside her. He hadn’t eaten her out, and hadn't been too touchy. John simply gave her what she needed. He watched for any negative reaction, but never got any. He remembered the flinch when he knotted her, but nothing that made it seem like she hadn’t wanted it.

John was sure that was what helped their bond grow. They talked together more often, even began sleeping in the same bed. {User} was finally being treated like a partner two years into their marriage.

Eventually, there was enough trust between them. John could recite what {User} said word for word. He could practically feel the memory each time he remembered {User} saying she wanted to try for a baby.

---

A mile into the woods, rain was pouring down the windows at a steady, calm pace. John had his arms wrapped around {User}’s waist, nose against her neck as she slowly came to her senses. Both were still sleepy, but both were happy enough to recognize the other person beside them.

John had discarded his clothes the night before, wearing nothing but the boxers. He knew the routine in the morning, as {User} had just started her heat–a perfect time to try for a baby. But they weren’t hardcore railing like feral rabbits. John was slow, easing her into consciousness with his cock.

His arm was wrapped around her throat, keeping her head up while holding her close. His right hand was against her thigh, keeping it out of the way as his cock thrusted into her cunt slowly. He wasn’t going too deep, wasn’t creating a harsh pace. He’d do that only after she was fully conscious.

“Pretty girl,” he cooed, his nose nuzzling against the side of her neck, smelling the dull but present scent of her heat. “You with me?”

He knew she was, but he liked the look on her face when she woke up. “Look at me, sweet girl.” John shifted a tad bit deeper, trying to elicit a response from his sleepy partner. “You feel that? Is that good?”

John knew that he’d be obligated to find a mate at some time during his life. It was burned into his skull as a teenager, reminded to him relentlessly in his twenties, and eventually forced upon him in his early thirties. He knew why, but it didn’t mean he liked it. Alphas could be territorial, especially when having a mate. John knew that an alpha too deep in their rut could easily hurt his own omega or beta, or someone else’s. Alphas could ruin an entire sub-species.

So John knew why it was important, but he valued his career at the time. He wasn’t focused on finding a mate, even if his instincts gnawed at his bones like a disease itching to be set free.

Now, even when John didn’t find it important, he certainly didn’t miss the longing an alpha would have when lacking a mate. Eventually, yes, he did get himself an omega, but it wasn’t out of choice.

{User} was younger than him, but was hitting the point in her life where she craved the mating portion of being an omega. Fertile, yes, which made John question why she hadn’t yet been bred. Though, when he first met her, the scent was dull, like it had been supplied with too many suppressants and weakened the effect it had. He felt bad for her, but it didn’t mean he liked her. He simply understood that both of them were forced into this.

{User} seemed just as avoidant, and understandably so. John figured the hidden scent glands indicated that a fear of alphas was drilled into her skull, just as the necessity of mating was drilled into John’s. Alphas were a cruel species, but John was able to get any cruelty he might have felt out on operations. It kept him calmer at home, which probably helped build the bond of trust before John retired. He was gone enough to allow {User} that space, but present frequently enough to let that weak bond strengthen.

Only two years into their marriage, John retired from the military after finally defeating the worst of terrorists. The job of Task Force 141 would never be complete, but his job was. He saw it in the faces of the soldiers he passed, the solemn but proud look they gave him. John had done his part.

The decades to come filled John with a sense of dread. He felt like he had no purpose, none important enough to fulfill his instincts or life desires. Little to his knowledge, he soon found that purpose a few weeks into retirement.

---

It wasn’t {User}’s first heat, but it was her first with an alpha, which only worsened the symptoms and severity. Stomach aches increased, the horniness was worse with the idea of a potential mate, and she was so wet it was leaking down her thighs.

And as a good partner, Price wanted to help. He had her cuddled up in his bed, his arms wrapped around her waist while he breathed against her neck. He’d occasionally pull her wrists to his mouth, giving little open-mouthed kisses before kissing each knuckle. He wanted to soothe her without being too invasive, but he knew the quickest and most proper way to soothe that ache inside her was through sex.

So Price took it slow. Even if he didn’t directly ask, she seemed compliant. He knew she heard the sound of him shifting his pants off because she had peered back for a moment. But she didn’t push him away, and that was the sign of permission he needed.

He knew she wasn’t a virgin, so he knew he didn’t need to kid-glove her. He was still gentle, yes, but he was more willing to lift her leg up against her side without preparing her too much. He didn’t have to. He knew she was wet enough, but Price still used his finger against her, gently pressing against her hole. His finger slipped in, pressing inside that tight hole. The arousal coating her cunt only made the wet noises more noticeable. Price knew his fingers were thick, but that wetness completely let him slip a second finger in without any kind of resistance. He did feel her clench, but nothing that pushed him out.

“There you go. Feel nice?”

He knew it did. She wasn’t noisy, but based on the way she relaxed, he knew it was good. Soothing, even. He knew it helped the itch inside her, the urge to be bred. That was what an omega wanted, wasn’t it? Their body did, at least. Maybe not the individual, but the body.

Price curled his fingers inside her, feeling her pussy stretch around his fingers. He loved how soaked she was, the sensation of that slick coating his fingers and getting his palm sticky.

But he didn’t want to use up all that sticky substance, so he removed his fingers and wiped the wetness against his cock. He moved his hand around {User}’s stomach, his fingers guiding his cock to her hole, the head pressing against the resistant skin. He nudged his cock in, guiding it into her hole as he kept her hips steady. Price fucking loved the feeling of that warmth coating him, how wet she was around his cock. How compliant.

John knew that he’d be obligated to find a mate at some time during his life. It was burned into his skull as a teenager, reminded to him relentlessly in his twenties, and eventually forced upon him in his early thirties. He knew why, but it didn’t mean he liked it. Alphas could be territorial, especially when having a mate. John knew that an alpha too deep in their rut could easily hurt his own omega or beta, or someone else’s. Alphas could ruin an entire sub-species.

So John knew why it was important, but he valued his career at the time. He wasn’t focused on finding a mate, even if his instincts gnawed at his bones like a disease itching to be set free.

Now, even when John didn’t find it important, he certainly didn’t miss the longing an alpha would have when lacking a mate. Eventually, yes, he did get himself an omega, but it wasn’t out of choice.

{User} was younger than him, but was hitting the point in her life where she craved the mating portion of being an omega. Fertile, yes, which made John question why she hadn’t yet been bred. Though, when he first met her, the scent was dull, like it had been supplied with too many suppressants and weakened the effect it had. He felt bad for her, but it didn’t mean he liked her. He simply understood that both of them were forced into this.

{User} seemed just as avoidant, and understandably so. John figured the hidden scent glands indicated that a fear of alphas was drilled into her skull, just as the necessity of mating was drilled into John’s. Alphas were a cruel species, but John was able to get any cruelty he might have felt out on operations. It kept him calmer at home, which probably helped build the bond of trust before John retired. He was gone enough to allow {User} that space, but present frequently enough to let that weak bond strengthen.

Only two years into their marriage, John retired from the military after finally defeating the worst of terrorists. The job of Task Force 141 would never be complete, but his job was. He saw it in the faces of the soldiers he passed, the solemn but proud look they gave him. John had done his part.

The decades to come filled John with a sense of dread. He felt like he had no purpose, none important enough to fulfill his instincts or life desires. Little to his knowledge, he soon found that purpose a few weeks into retirement.

---

It wasn’t {User}’s first heat, but it was her first with an alpha, which only worsened the symptoms and severity. Stomach aches increased, the horniness was worse with the idea of a potential mate, and she was so wet it was leaking down her thighs.

And as a good partner, Price wanted to help. He had her cuddled up in his bed, his arms wrapped around her waist while he breathed against her neck. He’d occasionally pull her wrists to his mouth, giving little open-mouthed kisses before kissing each knuckle. He wanted to soothe her without being too invasive, but he knew the quickest and most proper way to soothe that ache inside her was through sex.

So Price took it slow. Even if he didn’t directly ask, she seemed compliant. He knew she heard the sound of him shifting his pants off because she had peered back for a moment. But she didn’t push him away, and that was the sign of permission he needed.

He knew she was a virgin, so he knew he needed to kid-glove her. He was still gentle, yes, but he was more willing to lift her leg up against her side without preparing her too much. He didn’t have to. He knew she was wet enough, but Price still used his finger against her, gently pressing against her hole. His finger slipped in, pressing inside that tight hole. The arousal coating her cunt only made the wet noises more noticeable. Price knew his fingers were thick, but that wetness completely let him slip a second finger in without any kind of resistance. He did feel her clench, but nothing that pushed him out.

“There you go. Feel nice?”

He knew it did. She wasn’t noisy, but based on the way she relaxed, he knew it was good. Soothing, even. He knew it helped the itch inside her, the urge to be bred. That was what an omega wanted, wasn’t it? Their body did, at least. Maybe not the individual, but the body.

Price curled his fingers inside her, feeling her pussy stretch around his fingers. He loved how soaked she was, the sensation of that slick coating his fingers and getting his palm sticky.

But he didn’t want to use up all that sticky substance, so he removed his fingers and wiped the wetness against his cock. He moved his hand around {User}’s stomach, his fingers guiding his cock to her hole, but his focus being on her clit. Something to soothe her. He knew with how soaked she was, it wouldn’t hurt too much, but it would still hurt.

Price didn’t warn her. He simply used his fingers against her clit, then moved them down to spread her pussy so he could gently press the head of his cock against her hole. Nudging, testing.

“It’ll be a big stretch, sweet girl. Try to stay still for me.”