A different take on the traditional M/M werewolf romance topic: less romantic, less traditional, more disturbing and with conniving wolves, vampires and submissive marines.

Comments or requests for more of Meta (& the Marines) can be emailed to Meta.JohnAR@gmail.com or check out www.amazon.com/author/johnar.

Depending on reception, I will post more chapters. 

And if any military boy wants to start a MetaPack, let me know ...

John A.R.

Meta & the Marines II

(Meta Origins)


`I'm on a secret porn shoot,' Colt thought enjoying his fourth Diet Coke can at the pool. It was late October but the midday sun was pleasant in the desert.

He pushed his sunglasses back up again and tried not to look at Prime; how he pulled himself out of the pool using his strong arms with an ease that made Colt shiver. His wet blue surfer shorts clung to him obscenely, so he could see the two strong ass cheeks and the crack as if Prime was naked. The water glistened on his wide shoulders, and the muscles seemed to want to break through the freckled, lightly tanned skin while he dried himself a bit before lying down next to Colt on his chair.

"Seen enough?" Prime joked.

"Oh my God, if I'd known this trip to the desert would be an interactive porn movie, I might have reconsidered."

"So bad?"

"So bad? Four hunks only in swim shorts around me 24/7, mostly wet or covered in sun oil? Even if I was straight, I would get excited," Colt's voice broke a bit.

"Good," Prime smirked.

"Asshole!" Colt shot back.

"So I guess you like it."

"Are wolves carnivores? Four sexy guys, sun during the day, cool breeze at night, a silence unheard of, literally, clear sky showing all the stars, a never-ending Diet Coke supply, and no vampires? What could a Meta want more?" he repeated more extensively.

Prime chuckled again.

"What's that for?" Colt asked.

"Nothing. Was just thinking. There is all this stuff about earth-shattering prophecies involving you in an unknown capacity, and you are content with Coke and a pool."

"I'm afraid those things will happen or not, irrespective of whether I enjoy fall break with sex under palm trees or not."

"We're going to have sex outside?"

"Perv," Colt smiled reaching over to squeeze Prime's biceps. The man was hot; well, sexually but also temperature wise. He didn't fully understand how his wolves could stand this sun. Their body heat was already so high under normal circumstances, so extended direct sunshine should have had some impact on them; but no, they enjoyed the sun as if they were regular sun loving humans. The skin was so smooth, hairless, and slightly oiled, full of freckles, barely covering the hard muscle.

His eyes wandered down. Prime's chest was heaving a bit after the swim in the pool, lifting his succulent pecs, making his pink nipples stand out teasingly. They were a bit raw, as Colt had used them yesterday to get a better hold while fucking the redhead, when he wasn't wearing his chain.

As their pool was a saltwater pool, he didn't want have the chains being exposed to the water. Nevertheless, his men never left the house without coming to him so he could put the chains back on them. As his wolves often wore tank tops or wife beaters on the warm evenings, they did indeed get a lot of stares from the elderly gays, who visited Palm Springs for golf.

Water ran down the rills of Prime's abs. Colt licked his lips subconsciously. The bright blue surfer shorts hung low on his hips and seemed to hide quite a bulge, although he knew that was a bit of an illusion. Colt hadn't taken off the cages, just replaced the metallic locks with one-use numbered plastic locks. He remembered Sam asking: "Is there a market for something like that? I mean how many metas are there so they need those cages and locks?"

Brian chuckled. "Sam, Sam. Your body grows every day, but you're still naïve like a little kid."

The enforcer growled.

Brian was right, though, Sam didn't seem to stop growing. He ate like CE and was now one inch taller than Prime and definitely heavier and more muscled. After CE, he was the strongest wolf in his human form in their pack; even if his wolf hadn't fully caught up yet. "Why?" he asked.

"Guess how many women put their husbands into those cages?"

"Women? Straight women?"

"No, lesbians, you dummy," Brian said laughing while he pulled on his swim shorts, bright silver and a bit too short for Colt's taste, but he didn't say anything as they were only in the privacy of their own yard. Nobody would see Brian in these shorts except his pack, since Colt would make sure that he wouldn't wear those indecent things going into town.

"Fucking hell, I would never have thought." Sam looked at his lock, and tried to turn it so he could read the number: "106 351" -- if we assume that one guy needs maybe 50 of those locks over a year, there are 20000 locked guys out there."

Colt looked at him with intrigue, seeing how the enforcer started to smile. "I hope they're as lucky as we are." A sweet smell of oranges confirmed Sam didn't just say that to please Colt but that he really felt it. He quickly pulled up his red shorts, in a similar color and pattern as CE's. The big enforcer never thought of being locked but acted as if that was the most normal thing in this world.

"Prime, are you going to spray me?" Colt asked, slipping out of his flip flops.

"Factor 30?" Prime read the can.

"Wow, marines can count," Colt teased him.


"Spray, otherwise I'll be burnt like a lobster and I'll become very cranky. And there will be no sex."

That threat seemed to have done it, as Prime started to walk around Colt while spraying the sunscreen on the pale, scrawny boy. Despite all the training with CE and all the steaks, he still felt so inferior to the guys that he had to close his eyes during this process so as not to feel ashamed.

"You look so lickable now," Prime said with his sexy alpha voice.

Colt sprang a boner.

"Shall I spray down there as well?" the marine teased.

"No, you shall not rip my shorts down outside so you can blow me."


At the thought of this, Colt sprang a boner again, tenting his swim shorts featuring a multitude of country flags on them.

"What is the Meta thinking?" Prime asked pretending innocence, as he obviously smelled Colt's arousal.

"Was remembering Sam's surprise about the market for plastic locks."

"Well, he isn't alone on this. When Brian browsed the net to find some `temporary solutions' for our step 3 challenge, we were equally amazed how many products were on offer. If we follow the thinking of no supply without demand, it is one of the biggest secrets in the country. Sometimes I feel most women lock up their husbands."

"It's the animal in a man, which needs to be tamed," Colt joked.

"Well, somebody is speaking from experience then."

Colt smiled, taking another gulp of his Coke can, looking greedily at the hunk next to him, who had put his hands above his head, exposing his smooth, white arm pits, thereby sending him a wave of pine which was painful ... at least in his dick. "Stop doing this, Prime," Colt complained.

"Sorry," Prime answered not really feeling guilty. "I thought the boys are out of the house ..."

"What do you think that I am? A sex machine?" Colt played insulted.

"Well, tell your cock then," Prime answered pointing at the obscene tent in Colt's swim pants.

"Maybe I need to go to the doctor for priapism."

"Or you just need some moist environment.

Now Colt growled, and for a second he was indeed tempted to make Prime kneel on the concrete floor next to him so he could give Colt a blowjob, punishing him with bloody knees in the process. The thought of people outside seeing those knees and assuming what it meant, gave him an even bigger hard on. Seemed he got off more and more on showing to the world that he owned these men.

But in that moment he heard the sliding door into the house open, with Brian saying: "We're back, with a whole truck of food. I'm pretty sure we won't starve even if we're locked in here for the next three weeks."

"Now, that's a tempting thought," Prime said.

"You just want to get out of classes," Colt answered. "Good, Brian. Did you bring ...?"

Colt didn't have to complete the sentence as CE joined them looking so amazingly hunky. He bit into an ice cream bar and handed one to Colt. His favorite with coconut. For a moment he thought CE should be named Colt and pose in a gay porn magazine while eating his ice cream bar seductively. Boner alert.

He'd never told his father it was so stupid of him to give him `Colt' as a middle name. Surely, his father must have thought that was a super masculine name, much better than this Euro-trash `Leuk.' But he seemed to have overlooked that it was so butch it would be used by the gay porn industry; like every other über-male stereotype. One never found hairdressers in gay porn movies, but construction workers, policemen, soldiers and bikers; very often with Colt as their screen name or in a magazine called `Colt.'

"Where are you?" Prime asked.

"Just thinking about the usurpation of heterosexual hyper-masculinity by the gay adult entertainment industry."

"Sorry?" CE asked confused.

"That was Meta code for: `None of your business, Prime,'" Brian translated.

Colt chuckled while CE shook his head.

"All the stuff is in the pantry and fridge," Sam reported coming out to the pool area, pulling his white T-shirt off. With the white T-shirt, his red surfer shorts and his amazing physique under bronze tanned skin, he nearly looked like a lifeguard in Southern California. He wondered whether the quite elaborate tattoo would be a hiring obstacle.

"Thanks, Sam," Prime said to ensure he knew his work was recognized.

Sam nodded and jumped into the pool, splashing water over the edges. Some even hit Colt and his ice cream bar.

"You're going to get toasted," CE threatened, jumping into the pool surprisingly smoothly for a man of his solid stature.

Colt loved to watch how the two enforcers wrestled in the pool, trying to push each other under the water.

`This is a porn shoot,' Colt thought with a sigh and pushed the last of his ice cream bar into his mouth.

"When I see you like this, I could be tempted," Brian commented.

"If I ever see you little dicklet so close to my mouth, I'll freeze it like that ice cream."

"Ouch," Brian pretended to be hurt, putting his hands in front of his midsection like a soccer player. "But maybe you should do this with Sam."

"Why that?"

"Sam!" the Beta shouted to get noticed by the two enforcers who were still fighting for supremacy in the pool.

"What?" the boy with the nicely cropped head responded, spitting out water.

"So what did that lady in the store want?"

"She asked for the best pasta sugo."

"Really, that's what she wanted?" the Beta asked.

Sam looked carefully at Colt, addressing his Meta. "I think she wanted to flirt with me."

"And did you flirt back?" Prime asked quickly.

"No, Sir. Quickly took the sugo Colt wanted and left her."

"I guess then we have nothing to discuss about that, so we can go back to Brian threating to face fuck our Meta."

Now it was Brian's turn to be blushing and sending submissive looks to Colt, who chuckled. When the blond wolf saw Colt emptied the last drop of his Coke, the Beta quickly said: "Getting you a new Coke, Colt."

Now all of them were laughing at the blond boy, who disappeared as if chased by a hive of wasps.

The two enforcers had exhausted themselves wrestling in the pool and lay on blankets in the grass. For some reason they refused to use sun chairs like Colt, Prime and Brian; maybe it was an expression of their enforcer toughness or status. Colt noticed, though, both had fallen asleep very quickly basking in the afternoon sun.

"They know their pack is safe here, so they can catch up on deep sleep. Otherwise they stay in half sleep," Prime explained with his eyes closed, having sensed what Colt was thinking.

"Noticed. Always wondered whether it is as relaxing as normal sleep," Colt whispered.

"Not really, but enforcers are genetically preprogrammed that way. They saved our asses quite often in Afghanistan. Even with some marines on watch, they didn't sleep fully but picked up the smallest threats."

Colt wasn't surprised that so many wolf shifters were in the military. Where else could a wolf nowadays protect humans so well as in the army? Marines, Colt quickly corrected himself.

"Have all wolves in the marines been kicked out from their packs?" Colt asked.

"Nope. Most of them haven't."

"But how can they stay so far away from their pack for so long?"

"How do humans do it?" Prime asked.

"We don't form packs based on hierarchy and smell and instinct."

"True. I mean, most wolves return to their pack when they leave the military. And most of them suffer being separated like every man does being separated from his family. But the Corps is their ersatz-pack. It works for some time."

"Understand." `Explains some of the camaraderie I never understood,' Colt said to himself. "And all of these wolves in the military don't cause trouble?"

"Not more than non-wolves. I think, less. They are used to hardship, hard physical and mental stress, their need to protect and obey is inborn, so not really. I mean, I met some few alphas, and they tried to challenge me to see who was top dog ..."

Colt smiled smugly.

"... but that was harmless. If they had a higher rank I saluted, and otherwise I demanded their salute; ignoring their wolf status."

"Are there also female wolf soldiers?"

"Not that I'm aware of, never met one."

"Why that?"

"We are sexist."


"Wolves think that female wolf shifters' main role is to be available to the male wolves and to have pups, ideally a lot."

"That is so mid 20th century," Colt said.

"I know. But feminism never really took off in the wolf shifter society."

"No wonder all these frat wolves are so Neanderthal."

Prime smiled. "No, they just know what females need."


"Ever thought why there are so many novels on Amazon featuring hunks with exposed chests on the cover?"

"Well, we all like to dream."

"True, but why are all the men in those novels for woman so ... `traditional'?" Prime asked.

Colt lifted his glassed. "I'm sure you are going to tell me that is the case because the emancipated women in today's society still longs to be taken like in the Stone Age. Or at least she wants to dream about it."


"And I could go even further and stipulate that the transition of werewolves and vampires in popular culture from evil to sexually attractive and good, like in recent Hollywood shows and movies, is owed to the fact they are hyper-masculine symbols women can aspire to submitting to without questioning their status in real life. And this peaks in the fact that most M/M romance novels talking about hard men taking smaller, hairless, submissive men are written by women, to be read by women. Again, it is easier for them to accept their submissiveness projected on a male character, as that doesn't question their own status. Now, I know `Fifty Shades of Gray' does away with that pretense, but exceptions confirm the rule."

"Are you writing your PhD thesis on this?" Brian asked a bit in awe.

"Not sure the business faculty would be interest in that topic."

"Well, you could always turn it into a market analysis."

"True, but it would go against what is PC today, so I would get into problems. Like this guy on Harvard who asked why there are so few female top scientists and linked it to the IQ distribution. True, but unacceptable to say it in today's world," Colt analyzed without passion staring at his Coke can instead as if something interesting was printed on it.

"So you are also a sexist?" Prime asked.

"Sure. I discriminate against females; I don't fuck them," Colt evaded the answer.

"Not sure feminists would agree with that definition," Brian challenged.

"Don't care."

They had grilled steak -- of course, grilled vegetables, and fried potatoes. Sitting outside, looking at the countless stars, they enjoyed the light breeze and the plenty of food. Like so often in this last year Colt thought this would be a good moment to die. His life couldn't get better; and his Catholic upbringing suggested that in the moment he felt he had found happiness, a disaster would strike as punishment for his hubris.

The boys were eating like crazy; even vegetables and potatoes never had a chance. They had three bottles of water on the table, which emptied at frightening speed.

Yes, life was too good.


Some weeks ago, he and Prime had gone to the closest Chase branch, taking the bankcards they got from Prime's father with them.

Colt pushed the black card into the machine, not without having taken a picture with the account number on it in case the machine decided to swallow the card. The machine rattled and finally displayed a message: "PLEASE CONTACT YOUR BRANCH." It spit the card back out. As he didn't know which branch was `his,' he just went into the one with the ATM.

After some minutes the bank teller came back from her office. "Here is your ID back, Mr. Parker, and your card. Please sign here that you received your temporary pin code."

"Thanks, can I get a bank statement from you as well?"

She smiled, typed on her your computer and disappeared again in the back office.

She was even friendlier when she came back with a stack of papers. "I would assume you need an investment advisor," she said. "I will check whether Gus has 15 minutes to say hallo."

Colt pulled the bank statement to him, checking for the balance in an inconspicuous way. When he saw the 6-digit number, he tried to suppress a whistle pretending that he obviously knew how much was on this account. "That won't be necessary for today."

"I saw though that investment hadn't been updated in the past 5 years."

Colt smiled at the woman's attempt to get more business for her bank by selling investment services. "Let me get some overview first, and then I'll contact you again, Mrs. Ray, is that okay?"

"Sure. Have a nice day."

In the car he went through the statements. Investment in some low fee ETFs and some CDs. Relatively low risk but steadily increasing value over the past eight years. It seemed Loope senior set this account up a long time ago, but only changed into his, Colt's name, on Dec. 28. Mr. Loope must have had good informers.

He looked at Prime, who had gotten a similar stack of paper. He handed them to Colt. Similar amount, similar investment approach, also eight years old.

"Wow," Colt said.

"Wow," Prime responded.

"I guess now I can pay for the steaks."

Prime shot him a disapproving look.

"I know, Prime, but do you know how it feels?"

"You're my Meta. You might tell me when I can have sex, you might tell me how we manage the pack, and you might even tell me what I wear, but I will take care of you ...," Prime insisted with a hint of Alpha voice.

"Noted. I know that you and CE get VA money because of the Corps. And I'm fine with my scholarship; but you need to cover Brian's and Sam's fees now. And the rent."

"It's okay; I'll manage."

"Don't be so fucking stubborn," Colt said much more angrily than he'd intended. It seemed his months' long frustration on this topic was finally bursting out of him.

"Sorry?" Prime seemed too keen to pick a fight on this.

"I feel like a girl," Colt confessed.

"Oh, are we having pride issues?" Prime asked sarcastically.

"Yes. Know those?"

"Nope, somebody made it clear that it's his way or the highway," Prime retorted coldly.

"Oh, fuck, are we really having a fight because we got money?" Colt asked feeling stupid.

"Yes, because we're weird. Normally, couples fight because there isn't enough."

"Are we a couple?" Colt asked with surprise.

"Well, kind of."

"And the pack are our kids?" Colt chuckled.

"Don't tell CE, or he'll accidentally push me off the mountain during the next run."

"Won't, and he won't." Colt thought a while. "Here, you should take the money then."

"No, Colt. My father must have given it to you for a reason."

"But ..."

"Fighting again?" Prime asked with his growling alpha voice.

Colt got a boner.

"I hope that leads into hot reconciliation sex," Prime smiled like a naughty little boy, fluttering his nearly white eyelashes. "I should give that money to you, you know more about investing it," Prime said after a while, serious again.

"No; it's invested quite soundly. Your father knew what he was doing," Colt said.

"Okay; at least if one of us doesn't graduate from college we know it's not because of money," Prime said while starting the engine.

"Yep, I can finally buy those straightjackets for you boys," Colt said with a straight face.

"What?" Prime shouted hitting the brakes again like a crazy man. Somebody behind them hit the horn bad.

Colt couldn't hold his laughter for very long, and the sudden stop made them a traffic hazard. He grinned evilly.

Prime shook his head, while he drove off: "I'm going to make you pay for this. Straightjacket? Seems we created a monster."

"You have, and you are feeding it with Prime A beef."

"If I remember correctly, it's the other way round," Prime snorted.

"Want to fight about that as well, Alpha?"

Growl. Not unfriendly.

"Maybe it's good that we have fall break next week," Colt continued, as Prime didn't answer. "We are all bit tense."

Prime nodded. "Yep, we are. School sucks."

"I don't think it's only that."

"What else?"


"What do you mean?"

"Since the last attack some months ago, our lives have been quite calm; you wolves are not used to that. You need to fight, it's in your blood."

"I know. CE is very itchy."

"Not only him." Colt looked at the handsome ginger, who nodded silently, reaching for Colt's hand and squeezing it.

They were good.

"So shall we go for a drink?" Colt asked, while Brian, CE, and Sam cleared the table and put the dishes into the dishwasher. Prime cleaned the outside grill and shouted so half of the town could hear him: "Absofuckinglutely, we have no real alcohol in this house."

"We have beer, I thought." Colt opened the two-door fridge to check his assumption.

"I mean `real' alcohol," the voice came again.

`Damn wolves can hear every whisper,' Colt said to himself.

"Heard that," Brian said next to him, putting the dishwasher tablet into the machine.

Colt rolled his eyes.

"Saw that," Sam continued.

"Okay, okay, I get it. CE, smell my boner?"

"Since Brian bent over to fill the machine I think," CE answered with a chuckle.

"I feel like on Betazed."

"What?" Sam asked.

"Oh forget it, Sam, you are much too young for Star Trek," Colt chuckled.

Sam didn't understand that comment either as Colt was only one year older than the enforcer, but he didn't comment. If his Meta said that he was too young, he was too young.

"So what are we wearing?" Brian asked, teasingly pulling up his swim shorts a bit, revealing his delicious bronze thighs.

"Regular shorts for you, Brian, I want your thighs virtuously covered."

"Damn," the blond boy feigned disappointment and left for his room to change.

"And Sam," Colt continued, "Wear some of the newer clothes, your old ones are too tight for you now."



The saltwater scent made him crazy.

The bar was loud and half dark. It wasn't too crowded as the full season hadn't started yet, but the noise from the loudspeakers made up for the empty space.

"Do they have a water feature here somewhere?" Colt asked, looking around to check where this penetrating smell came from.

"There was one over there, close to Marilyn Monroe," the Beta volunteered, but not really convinced.

"Maybe I just have a headache from all the sun and naked skin," Colt joked, regretting it instantly because somebody tried to drill a tunnel through his head, during an earthquake.

"Maybe next time we need a regular pool with chlorine instead of salt water."

"Maybe." This time, Colt wasn't convinced.

The wolves were in a good mood. All of them could drink some alcohol as they felt there was no danger of being attacked by a horde of vampires and Colt had volunteered to be the designated driver. Prime had protested, but Colt quickly grabbed his sore nipples and twisted them hard, very hard. Everyone in their pack knew by now that meant Colt had made his mind up and disobedience wouldn't be tolerated.

Prime had growled, but offered his neck, which Colt bit lightly. He didn't do it so much to reassure himself of Prime's submission but to make the crowd green with envy. `Yes, I, this little scrawny guy with no pecs to speak of, own this hunk. And if you come closer than one yard to him I'll make my friends beat the shit out of you ...'

Not that they hadn't already drawn all the looks when they'd come into the bar. After they'd shown their IDs, although Colt knew Brian's and Sam's were not completely legit IDs, the crowd had stared at them with unashamed lust. It wasn't every day that four hunks with physiques to kill, smiles to kill and a walk to kill came into this gay-friendly bar. Only at the second glance the patrons realized those hunks wore chains around their necks and all had the same tattoo. For most of them that was a bit of a turn off, but enough of the men were even more interested to make Colt first smile and then growl.

"No, worries, nobody will drag us into dark-rooms," Brian teased Colt, noticing his facial expression.

"I'm pretty sure they don't have those here."

"What do you want to drink, Meta, Alpha?" Sam asked slightly uncomfortable at being stared at by half of the bar. He still had to get used to the fact he now looked very much fuckable; and how to block those advances before they got serious, given Colt would have his balls, if something happened, while Prime would kill him. This time for good.

The boys enjoyed their drinks. And now that the men in the bar had noticed that these hunks were not interested in any of them, but just wanted to have some alcohol, the staring had gone down as well.

They had surrounded Colt instinctively. He sometimes had to push some of them a bit aside so he could at least see what was going on; they grudgingly moved, but few minutes later he was again in this prison made out of intoxicating wolf flesh walls. Today they did it also to send him their scents, hoping that would cure Colt's headache. Unfortunately, it didn't really work.

And then his head wanted to explode. He cringed.

"Colt?" Prime asked concerned.

The nerd lifted his hand as if he needed space and then he said to Sam: "Can you get me a bottle of water, please?"

"Sure, Colt. Right back."

And through the gap caused by Sam's leaving Colt saw what was causing his headache today.

He had a big gulp, nearly a Prime style gulp. It might have been the water or the knowledge, but his headache receded; his senses became sharper, the drilling stopped and he felt the calm sea off a Mediterranean coast.

"Better?" Prime asked.

"Yep, enjoy your drinks, boys."

"Cheers," they chinked their glasses.

"Prime, CE?"

The two guys looked at him instantaneously.

"I think I saw three fellow soldiers, maybe they want a drink as well ..."

Prime growled, looked around and found the three men Colt was referring to. "Marines, Colt."

"Oh, I forgot," Colt smiled mischievously. "Wasn't there something about cock sucking?"

Another growl.

"Prime, drinks for your fellow jarheads. Okay?"

"Yes, Sir!" Prime said deliberately loud, attracting some stares in the room before walking with CE to the bar.

Brian looked at Colt with his cool blue eyes. He seemed to understand when he looked back to the three marines, Colt was referring to.

One was kind of a pocket marine, barely 5 foot 6, and surprisingly lean. After having been together with Prime and CE for so long, Brian had the impression all marines were built like brick shithouses. The small guy seemed to want to overcompensate a bit by standing with wide legs, thrusting out his chest and talking the most of the three.

The second one was Afro-American, with full lips and a permanent smile around his friendly eyes. Once in a while he put his hand on the pocket marine; it felt like more than camaraderie; maybe they were a couple and displayed only limited PDA. Brian wondered for a second whether the black guy was the top, as the stereotype suggested, or whether the pocket marine was banging the bigger marine. One never knew with men.

But it was the third guy, who Brian focused on. He was a wolf. Tall, broad shouldered, very light blond, and of course with a regulation haircut. He wore a cowboy-inspired red-white checkered short-sleeved shirt and black cargo shorts, exposing his strong calves covered in whitish hair. His upper arms were quite tattooed, more than what Brian normally found attractive and more than Colt's pack wolves were.

So far the marine hadn't turned around so he couldn't see his face. But it was clear that he was the quietest amongst the three jarheads not only speaking but also body movement wise. But he also felt he was the most anxious of the three; his calm just a mask to deal with the anxiety.

Then CE approached the three with some beer bottles. The marines were a bit surprised but took the beer after brief introductions between them and Prime and CE. And it wasn't difficult to guess they were exchanging their marine credentials. In which unit they were. Abroad and when. Did they have common friends or experiences. It didn't take long before the five men looked as if they had been the best friends since boot camp.

CE got another round of beers; and then finally Prime pointed at them, Colt, Brian and Sam.

The jarheads moved to the three men and the introductions started again. The pocket marine was called Tony, the big Afro-American Lucas and the blond quiet one Isaac. Isaac had this calm voice, which shifted only a hint when he realized he had a whole pack in front of him.

When Colt shook Isaac's hand, he braced himself for jolts. And they came. It was less electricity and more painful water jets or water current, but it was intense nevertheless.

The white blond marine looked at him in confusion and took his hand back a little bit too quickly. He didn't understand why he got strange feelings with the only human amongst this pack of strong young wolves.

Isaac had noticed the five men coming in before; and he had guessed at least two of them were former military, but he also noticed they wanted to be left in peace, so he didn't enquire further. And when he got this terrible headache smelling the much too sweet wine they sold in the bar, he asked his buddies to go outside for a walk. Immediately, his head had cleared in the fresh air, but he was also drawn back to the bar, although his buddies wanted to go to a straight place to hunt for chicks. Tony was really itching for pussy, he knew. And only their deal that every third evening they would first go to a gay bar before splitting and looking for fucks -- or pretending to look, made them join him again for a last drink. And then that red-haired ex-marine and that former military police sergeant had approached them with beers. And now he stood with this pack, with the redhead clearly being the alpha. His voice sent shivers down his spine.

The innocent blond boy seemed to be a beta, smart, funny, observing his environment with scrutiny. Isaac was convinced he had a conniving and fast wolf, and he would be careful not to cross him despite his young and naïve human appearance. The big marine, who had only introduced himself as C and E, was an enforcer; everything shouted loyal fighter to him. He assumed the dark guy with those puppy eyes, Sam, was a future enforcer as well. He already had the body; soon he would get the eyes for that role.

But he couldn't make sense of the human. He was small, with short dirty blond hair and a nicely trimmed goatee, which made him look older than he presumably was, and even smarter. He wasn't sure whether that worked with the ladies. He was thin, not unpleasantly scrawny, more very lean, but the contrast to the four hunky guys around him was stark.

The human looked at him with his uninterpretable gray eyes that scrutinized him as if he was an insect under a magnifying glass; Isaac was normally good in reading humans, but he couldn't read him. Colt was his butch name. Didn't really fit him, maybe his second name.

Isaac had noticed that this pack had some unique outfits. They all seemed to wear chains around their necks, locked together with a padlock hidden under their T-shirts. They had the same tattoo on their right shoulders. There seemed to be letters in it, but the sleeves hid them from him. And the pack was hairless. Well, they had hair on their heads even if it was cropped or high'n'tight'd, eyebrows and lashes, but beyond that: no beard, not even a 5 o clock shadow, no chest hair showing, their calves smooth like swimmers or bodybuilders; even the dark guys didn't have hair on their forearms. This was a special pack, it seemed.

They were friendly, though. Brian, the Beta, joked a lot, CE was oozing protection, Sam smiled his friendly next-door-boy-smile and Prime made sure everyone was included. Only Colt, the human, was quiet. Just observing. When he caught Isaac staring, the marine quickly looked away focusing on Lucas' insightful story about how to attract marine pussy. Isaac quickly realized why Lucas shared it: he wanted to know whether all these hunks were gay. And Isaac was pretty sure that was the case; all four wolves and the human were gay. `Wow,' he said to himself, realizing: `a gay pack.' He felt that his normally lazy dick jerked a bit. It didn't very often, but it happened. Somehow he felt guilty about it, like nearly every time it happened, and he went soft. Lucas' too detailed description of pussy scents helped.

They talked about the obvious: Their unit would be sent to Afghanistan next Monday, they had three days' leave and would then get the final preparations on the weekend. It was his third stint, and he didn't really mind. Nothing kept him in the States. His pack back East was barely interested in his well-being, as they were more into making it on Wall Street, and his relationship with his distant family had been frail since he had come out on a night with too much alcohol. No, a good fight, and the company of good marines would be much better.

"Most likely end of next year," he answered Prime's question, when they would come back, suppressing the need to add a `Sir' to address the alpha, but Tony and Lucas wouldn't have understood. He could have explained it to the human that this was a marine illness to address everyone as `Sir' after having been brainwashed during boot camp, but his straight marine buddies wouldn't fall for that. Instead he said: "Anyhow, I think Tony and Lucas wanna go pussy hunting now. Won't have any over there."

"Sure," Prime said with a disarming smile. Isaac's knees got weak. He wouldn't mind hitting the sack with that alpha. He imagined for second how big the hunk must be. His dick twitched excitedly, but didn't grow. But he felt he was leaking. And when the wine scent hit him again, this time pleasantly sweet, not sickly, with a little bit of freshness of clean mountain water, his dick definitely got very much excited. Soon he would have to go to the restroom to wipe up his precome.

"All the best, and get home safely," Prime wished the marines and hugged them strongly, like wholesome heterosexual military men did.

"See you on base," Isaac wished and blushed at the not very subtle wink of Tony's eyes. He guessed they knew he found the redhead hot. Not that he would have said no to any of the other three hunky men. He was sure the blonde fucked like a beast and the dark haired Sam sucked like a pro. In the same moment he thought how stupid he was, given his history.

"So plans after the Corps, marine?" the human asked. It was the first time he had said something since the introduction. His voice wasn't unpleasant, but not very easy to read, like his eyes. When he had addressed him as `marine,' Isaac's headache had increased again as if his head wanted to force him to his knees.

"Not really, making it through this stint, then I shall see, Sir." What the hell? `Did I just call this human "Sir?"' he asked himself in disbelief

The nerd must have noticed Isaac's confusion, as he made an effort to smiled and comment as if nothing unusual had happened: "Surely your pack will be happy when you return for good."

`What the heck? Did this Colt know he was wolf? Not unlikely given he was hanging out with a whole pack. Was this a test? How should he react?' He saw Prime's gentle green eyes saying: `It's okay, you're safe.' And if an alpha said that to him, it had to be like that.

"I'm not sure I'm the biggest pride for my pack, Colt." He used the boy's name to avoid another `Sir.'

"Why that?"

"They're into finance and politics; and their enforcers are more like agency types, Sir." Shit, again.

"I guess, their loss, marine," the boy said with understanding.

Isaac started to like him. There was something special about him. Even if his headache prevented him from fully understanding what was going on, he felt okay with this pack and this human.

"Sir, thanks, Sir." Fucking shit, he swore silently. What was he doing? This guy was nice, but no fucking captain he had to `double Sir.' As Brian seemed to smile at his slip, his cock leaked. He had to get a clear head. Hit the head.

"I need to hit the bathroom," Isaac said quickly. As they were surprisingly clean, he went into a stall and peed like a girl sitting, looking at the strings of precome flowing down his head. He thoroughly cleaned himself with toilet paper, wiped the slime of his shorts and then tucked everything in properly.

When he washed his hand, he was worried for a second the pack might have left. Quickly he went out and let a relieved sigh escape his lungs. The human looked at him with quizzing gray eyes. And Isaac looked instinctively to the floor.

"Well, Isaac, we'll be going now, I'm sure you want to `hunt' now as well," Prime started the good-bye.

`Want to "hunt" you,' Isaac thought, but just smiled. "Well, I'm not sure I'm going to get lucky today. The cutest men are leaving."

Prime chuckled and put his strong hand on Isaac's shoulder. That felt good. "Thanks, dude."

This Colt looked at the pack Alpha slightly disapproving. And Prime indeed removed his hand and took a step back from him.

More questions in Isaac's aching brain.

"Why don't you come tomorrow evening for some barbeque? Lots of beer and steak?" the human asked.

Isaac's heart jumped. So did his dick.

"Sure, `d love to."

"CE, could you exchange numbers with Isaac so we can send the address?"

"Done, Sir," the big marine answered, ignoring Isaac's surprised look that he used `Sir' as well to address the human.

What the hell was going on here? Should he really accept their invitation? Yes, he felt good in their presence. It wasn't his pack, but they were wolf -- with the exception of this human, of course. He showed CE his number, who typed it into his phone sending him a test text. Connection established.

"Good night, Isaac," Colt said with a little smile leaving the group. The four big guys said their quick good-byes and followed the human like ducklings the mother duck. Outside, Prime, the Alpha, and Sam, the enforcer, flanked the human within a second. With the Beta in front and CE at 6 o clock they `marched' to their redneck pick-up truck across the street.


Somehow it felt wrong to hunt for sex now, and he'd never been really successful anyway given his equipment, so he texted Lucas and Tony that he would go back to base. He desperately needed fresh underwear.

On the highway to 29 Palms, he indulged briefly in the tempting thought how sexy it would be to be alone with those hunks. His dick got erect; he squeezed himself through his pants. That felt good for change.

Until he realized he couldn't really squeeze anymore. His hand had shifted into his wolf's paw; shocked he stopped groping himself and concentrated on the traffic to get back safely, when his hand had shifted back without a problem.

What did his wolf want? Why did he feel slimy wet on his ass as well? What the hell was going on?