I woke up splayed naked on Aisha’s green battered couch. I was still horny as fuck. 

I got up from the couch and grabbed my clothes from the bathroom. They smelled of me, of two tons of Aisha’s deodorant and badly enough… of him. That only made everything worse. 

I threw the clothes in the dumpster, loaned some sweatpants and a t-shirt from Aisha

Aisha was sleeping in her bed, and after the night I made her have, I let her. I dragged her into my problems way too much already. I needed to solve it now, take responsibility for my actions. But not now. Not while I was still rutting like this.

I called off my appointments for the day and took a cab home. I run up the stairs as fast as I could, taking my clothes off in the process and flung myself at my husband. Patrick jolted awake and stared at me.

“You smell.” He said disapprovingly. “What the hell happened?”

“I want to fuck you so bad it hurts.” I said. It wasn’t true. I wanted to fuck that stupid omega twink so bad it hurt, but I was making do with Patrick. It wasn’t fair, but I really didn’t know what else to do right now.

“No.” he said sternly. "First you tell me what happened".

“I can’t now, please… Please let me fuck you.” I pleaded.

“No.” He said again, but it sounded more concerned now. “Shit you went into rut.”

“Yes… sorry… please let me fuck you now, I can talk when it wears off…”

He sighed disapprovingly. “I’m not an omega Chris. I’m not taking anything up my ass, you know this. You married me knowing this, now stop acting like a teenager and talk to me.”

“Well you know I can’t right now…” I moved my hands over to his crotch and kneaded him through the blankets.

“TRY!” he yelled, pushing my hand away. “Did you go and save some omega in heat again?”

“Yesss…” I hissed, pressing myself against him.

“Fuck Chris, I TOLD you not to pull those stunts ever again!”

I whimpered guiltily, but it sounded more like a growl, then licked his neck.

“You smell like omega. My god Chris! Did you fuck her?”

“No I didn’t, please baby… Please…” I kissed him. He tasted like Patrick. Like love and happiness and home and Patrick. It was pale compared to the omega from last night. The realisation broke my heart. I needed to get him out of my system NOW.

Patrick sighed and kissed me back. He pulled me under the blankets and lay down on top of me. “Okay baby, I’ll make you feel better, but when you come down from this, you’re gonna talk to me okay?”

I looked him in the eye and kissed him again, my hands grabbing at his wavy brown locks. His hands made his way over my chest, caressing my boobs, then slipped between my legs, carefully avoiding my erection and dipped his fingers into my ladyparts. His dick followed soon after and he banged me with everything he had.

It was good. He was good, as always, but it wasn’t satisfying. As he shot his orgasm inside me the fire within didn’t subside. He noticed and sighed.

“I’m going to make you breakfast.” He said, and got up from the bed.

I was happy with the breakfast in bed and did my best to keep it down. Patrick went to work, and I stayed home to play with myself for the rest of the day. Only after four hours of masturbation had I cooled down a bit, and started feeling sore.

[Hey girl, sorry about last night.] I messaged Aisha

Within minutes I got a text back. [Are you out of it?]

[No, it won’t go away, but it’s getting less]

[Talked to Patrick yet?]

[I don’t know what to say. He’s gonna kill me.]

[Then don’t say anything. Put your head in the sand for once. It will go away. You love him, save your marriage.]

She was right. I should save my marriage. Patrick is my everything, I love him so much. I don’t want to be like my father, I really don’t. And yet I’m not one to run away from my responsibilities. I made a mess of things and I should fix it.

[I need to take responsibility for my actions] I replied Aisha.

[For once in your life please don’t. Patrick will be heartbroken and you will be stuck with some gay kid that doesn’t even want you. No one is happy if you take responsibility. Not Patrick, not David and certainly not you.]

A jolt of electricity went through me reading her message. His name was David. My omega…

Oh, damn it got bad again. I got up and took a cold shower. I soaked my body in soap and scrubbed David’s scent off me with a vengeance until I was red all over. Then a sat down in the cold for as long as I could bear it. I was shivering when I dried myself off, then I put on some clean clothes and went out to buy cigarettes.

I had quit smoking two years ago, but I was starting again today. The addiction that had lingered in the back of my mind came out full-force and presented itself as some sort of solution: use one craving to get rid of another. Smoking was better than cheating on my husband, so there.

[I’m smoking again] I texted Aisha.

[Idiot] she replied.

Sitting outside in my garden smoking helped clear my mind a bit. I was still horny, but it was better than before. It was subsiding. ‘See, smoking helps,’ my addiction told me. And I chose willingly to believe it, even if it was just the nicotine talking.

***

Patrick was home late. We ordered pizza and, after having sex again, it was time to talk. I was shaking even before I started.

The entire afternoon I had been weighing my choices. Tell him about the bite and quite possibly destroy my marriage, or not tell him and be a liar. The last one was the safest and smarter choice, yet I had always been completely open with Patrick. It was an essential part of our relationship. So, dreading the outcome, I went with that and told him everything.

He screamed at me. He murdered some of our best china. He told me I was exactly like my dad. At one point he even went to take a shower to rid himself from the physical memory that he had just had sex with me. 

And I was just sitting there, crying, pleading. Telling him I was sorry a thousand times.

When he came out of the shower, he seemed calm, but I knew him well enough to see the fire burning under the surface. Patrick was trying to be reasonable and hardly keeping it together.

“So what do you want with that kid?”

Good question. I was really glad my body couldn’t speak for itself, for it would have said some things that would’ve made Patrick cut my head off for sure. Still possessing a head, it answered what my mind wanted to say, and what my heart wanted too...

“I don’t want him. I want to be with you, honey… But I think I need to take some form of responsibility. At least pay for therapy or something. I probably scarred the boy for life. I don’t know what he, or his parents want me to do. But I think I should do something to make this right by them.”

“And if they want you to marry him?”

“I don’t want to and besides, I’m married to the love of my life already. I really don’t want to lose you Patrick…”

“You should have thought about that before you went running to an omega in heat. You know I WARNED you…”

“Yes honey, you did, and you were right. You’re always right. I’m stupid and I’m a jerk like my father. I don’t deserve you, but please let me make this right…”

“Right?”

“Okay well, less wrong?”

“So, you don’t want to leave me for him?”

“NO!” I yelled out. God no. My body may feel attracted to him, but I loved Patrick wholeheartedly and I really, really didn’t want to leave him. Least of all for some gay teenager, however sexy he was.

“No, I really don’t. I’m sorry that this happened, I should’ve listened to you instead of thinking I could be some sort of hero. But now, now I have a responsibility towards him, and I wouldn’t be myself if I ran away from it. So there it is. I want to give the boy what he needs to get by. I don’t want him to end up like the omega’s in the shelter, but I also don’t want to be with him in that way. I want to be with you Patrick.”

“I love you Chris.” He said as he hugged me close. I loved him too, so much. And I told him exactly that.

The week that followed was the worst one I ever had. Not because anything was going wrong, no things were doing quite alright for me. I argued and won two court cases, remembered my secretary’s birthday and got her a gift she loved. My rut subsided, and Patrick and I were doing great, considering the circumstances. So why was it the worst week? Because I felt empty.

There was a longing coming from deep within me that wouldn’t go away. 

First, I thought it had to do with the rut, but by the end of the week I was starting to think it didn’t. It was eating me from the inside and I felt like I couldn’t talk about it with anyone but Aisha. But she didn’t know what to do with it either. Besides, she didn’t want to give me advice anymore for I was never doing what she told me anyway. I guess that was fair.

Friday, I finally asked her for the address. She didn’t want to give it at first, but I can be extremely convincing, so in the end she did. 

31, Burnstein road. That was where David lived, with his parents. 

Patrick wanted to come with me, but I really didn’t want him to experience what it would do to me to see the boy again, so I told him I’d go alone and he reluctantly accepted.