Normal is Relative

Page 1

I was normal, other than the fact I was a were wolf. I was part of a pack of twenty-three. Not too big, not too small. Our alpha was the town sheriff. My parents owned the hardware store. I had an annoying little sister. I was a senior in high school and dated all the pretty girls. I had just one little thing that made me a little off center of perfectly normal. I was a white wolf. It translated into human that my hair was white. Thankfully only the hair on top of my head was white. The rest was brown, so I didn't look like I'd dunked my entire body in baby powder. I knew that most people thought I dyed it.

Most might not know that a white wolf in nature is off center but happened. A white were wolf was rare. They were only males, they only mated with males for one specific reason. I was a carrier. For those of you that haven't read every fan-fiction ever written like my little sister, it's a male who can get pregnant.

When I was little and understood what that meant for me, I just took it as part of who I was. It wasn't until I got into school and others started teasing me about it that I thought there was something wrong with it. Mostly I got called a girl and bullied. So, I started being as much of a boy as I could. I went out for sports, I dated girls. When I hit middle school, I got into fights. When I hit high school, I started smoking. Not that it did anything for a were. Our bodies lived to fast for it to do anything, but it completed the look I was going for. I saved up and bought a motorcycle.

I'd gotten used to my life and I liked it. I had good friends, nice girlfriends and it worked well for me. It was ten thirty on a Friday night and I was in the same place I always was on Friday night, parked behind the school bleachers a pretty girl riding my hand.

After a bit of trial and error I had come up with two rules that all girls were informed of on our first date. One, we were mutually exclusive while we dated, I wouldn't stray and if they did then they could consider themselves dumped the second I heard about it. Two, I didn't mind playing around, but I had a mate waiting for me somewhere and they were more important than anyone I was dating. So far only one girl had balked, and we'd not gone out again. Though human girls got told rule one without being privy to rule two.

I was true to what I said, though I didn't really think they thought about it much. Especially when I came to me getting them off like, Anne here, she was laying across my handlebars coming down from her orgasm. I didn't mind kissing. I had developed more than a few techniques to get them off without ever having to unbutton my pants. That hurt at times, but I had decided that I would be true to my mate, wherever he was. Besides I always thought to be pregnant not get someone pregnant. There was a conversation I never wanted to have, 'oh hi I'm glad to meet my mate, meet my ex girlfriend and our kid'. Not a conversation I wanted to have in my head let alone in real life. When Anne was put back together, I drove her home. Most girls thought I was such a gentleman to give so much and not ask for anything in return. A couple had insisted on giving fellatio, which was fine as long as they didn't try for more. Only one had been pissed that I wouldn't fuck her. I'd expected a few looks after that, but everyone thought she was a slut and I got congratulated for being a stand-up guy. Anne gave me a kiss and strode inside. I waited until she was inside and waved before I rode off.

"How's Anne?" Was my moms first question. I'd never discussed my thinking or my rules with my parents. As far as they knew I was a typical teenage boy waiting for my mate.

"She's fine. Dropped her off home." Mom chuckled.

"No doubt a little happier." I blushed.

"Mom, please." I turned and went up to my room. My sister was laying on my bed flipping pages in one of moms magazines.

"What are you doing in here lil'bit?" I asked her before flopping down across her legs to pin her in place.

"Waiting for you."