Warrior

She almost had me. The bitch was hiding, laying in wait.

The bombed-out warehouse might have had something useful, so I searched it. Even though it had probably been combed many times before by others. I was on patrol. As always. Though the rest of my unit is gone, what else would I do? Sit in my cave and wait?

For what?

She sensed me, then set a trap for me, aiming to kill me quick and take my stuff. Probably. But, well, I've always had a 6th sense about danger. And she was danger.

She looked less dangerous lying paralyzed on the floor. Twitching.

In the dim light I checked her out. Battle dress. Half-gloves, armored across the big knuckles and on the knife-edge side of her hands. Fingers bare from the second knuckle. Nails painted black. Fake nails, I'd learned the hard way. Metal, sharp as razors. Turned her hands into deadly weapons. White, sun-reflective shirt, sleeves rolled up to her elbows. Armored pads below epaulettes on the outsides of the shoulders. Made of tough, knife and bullet resistant fabric. But thin.

Because it's deadly hot. Everywhere. During the Final War everything burned up and the atmosphere absorbed so much carbon that, though sunlight poured in relentlessly, next to no heat could escape. Life on Earth devolved into a race to see which animals and plants would die out first. Or which mutations could survive.

So we - those of us still alive - fight over everything. Water, food, metal, clothing, weapons, even the skeletons of old buildings. Like this warehouse. Anything that offers the slightest escape from the endless blistering sun and killing heat.

Her infrared protective glasses had fallen to her chest, held there by the lanyard. They'd let her see me through the wall as I'd stalked her, but our brief scuffle had knocked them off her face.

Her black battle belt, wide and heavy, supported the protective skirt of thick, leatherette bullet proof fabric. The belt held ammo and mag cases. Knives, grenades, stun gun, who knows what else?

The same fabric was used for her combat chaps, secured by buckled straps around her thighs. As a concession to the heat, they were cut off below the protective knee pads, leaving her calves bare. Like her feet. She'd jettisoned her boots when she first sensed me. So she could hunt me silently.

She'd tried to cold-cock me with her battle baton, but I heard the warning voice inside my head and ducked. Just in time. Spun back towards her, took a nail swipe to my stomach that would have gutted me except for the armored fabric of my shirt. Still, her razor nails sliced the fabric and drew blood.

I leapt back as she snarled and launched herself at me. Clawing for my eyes. I parried her scrabbling hands and loosed the full dose of stun spray I'd taken the precaution to have in my hand. The cloud hit her full in the face and it worked.

Almost fast enough. The knee to my balls still landed - she'd distracted me by going for my eyes - but the gas worked just enough to sap some strength from her kick. Though it hurt like hell, I wasn't crippled.

Just crumpled on the floor. When I quit gasping and writhing and could sit up, she was lying on her back at a right angle next to me. Her bare feet almost touching my thigh. Arms pulled defensively tight to her chest, legs askew, spread wide. I couldn't help but notice that below her battle belt and protective skirt, her pussy was bare. Shaved. More concessions to the heat, I guessed.

Her breathing was rapid and irregular and her eyes were open, glassy, but staring at me. There was no fear in her eyes, only a "fuck you, asshole" challenge. Pretty face. Really pretty. Darkest blue, almost black eyes. Black hair roughly hacked short to keep it out of her way. Young. Maybe 20. Pale, perfect skin that made my fingers twitch, wanting to touch it. I wondered how she acquired significant skills at such a young age. How she had stayed alive so long.

I'd scanned the building when I first entered and knew there were no other threats present. As my eyes played over her body, my mind began picturing stuff. The adrenaline and cortisol that floods my system whenever I'm in a life or death situation was still making me prickly. And horny as hell. I picked her up and carried her to an old tattered couch nearby. Her breath was catching, her eyes blinking. Maybe she knew what was coming. Or thought I was going to kill her. Right away instead of afterward.

But I'm not into necro.

I shed my battle pack, ripped off my ruined shirt, and tore hers open. Nice tits. Soft, warm. Firm and springy to the touch. Her nipples got hard as I thrummed them. I looked in her eyes as I put my middle finger in my mouth to lube it up, but oddly, her pussy was already wet, and it slid in easily.

Women, too, get dumps of adrenaline and cortisol when in danger, and while men get raging hard-ons after the fight or flight is over, women get wet, throbbing pussies. She moaned softly as I pushed into her, which I liked. I like it when they moan.

I know my way around a clitoris, and watched her eyes swim as I fingered her. I could tell that, though the stun gas paralyzed her muscles and they could only twitch, it didn't shut down her nervous system. When her hips began jerking, pushing her pussy to meet my finger fucking her, I smiled at her. Knowingly. She blinked.

I added a second finger and made my strokes fuller, driving them as deep into her vagina as I could go, then making sure the shafts lightly rubbed her clit as I slid them out. Very slowly. It had been so long since I'd played in a pussy, and, suspecting that this would probably be my last time, I wanted to savor it. Draw it out.

So, each time I slid my fingers out of her, almost all the way, I'd wait. Make her show me she wanted it by trying to push her pussy to me. Then I'd sink back in. Loving how her breath caught and her body jerked. I kept it up, staring into her eyes. They met mine, but the "fuck you" challenge that had been in them at first began to change. To transform into acceptance. Then compliance. Finally eager assent. Those amazing eyes would flicker every time her body would twitch and her breath would catch. When the flickers got closer together, I knew she was close to coming.

But, goddamn it! I wasn't! There was no way I could screw this woman! Though I was loving finger fucking her, making her come at my pace and pleasure, my balls were still bruised, aching, throbbing. And my cock, though thick and heavy, wasn't hard. What I wanted more than anything I'd ever wanted in my life - to fuck this woman - wasn't possible.

And it was her fucking fault! My anger seethed up from my core and I extracted my revenge. I removed my fingers from her pussy.

Her eyes snapped open so wide! Pleading. I smiled as I watched her try to lift her right hand, to get her own fingers into her pussy. But the stun gas was still strong in her system, and though her fingers twitched and clawed, she couldn't lift her arm. Left hanging and helpless, she quivered and trembled, hovering on the edge of release.

I tore down and kicked off my shorts then used my fingers to rub the head of my penis against her lips. Sliding the head just inside. Her lips were warm and wet, and felt nice. Very nice. She stared at me and blinked as I rubbed my cock on her mouth.

It began growing, and I was overjoyed to feel that familiar heaviness inside my balls begin to replace the throbbing pain. The aching desire in the pit of my stomach grew into need and spread through me. I smiled at her, brushed her cheek and said, "Hey. Everyone calls me Dak. You are gorgeous as hell and your lips feel real fine. When I'm done with your mouth, I'll fuck your pussy."

She blinked those deep blue, almost black eyes.

As I got stiffer, I was able to rub my cock across her lips just by rocking my hips. I started caressing one soft, spongy tit as I slid the underside of my cock back an forth, rubbing my special spot on her lips. Knowing I was going to be able to do it, to fuck her, I finally took mercy. I grabbed her wrist, lifted her arm and lowered her hand onto her pussy. Her fingers went to work.

Seeing her diddling herself got me rock hard immediately and my bruised balls snapped to attention. And did their thing. The cum was suddenly heavy, hot, boiling inside me. Like lava that had to be expelled before it burned me up. It took over my brain and I improvised.

I raised her neck. After her head tilted back, making a straight tube of her mouth and throat, I used my fingers to spread her lips and open her jaw wider. Then I eased my cock into her. Slow. Savoring the wet. The heat. Her moan. I went deep. She moaned again. It was great. Hot, wet, clingy. Just like a pussy. I told her so.

Maybe it was because of how she diddled herself faster. Or maybe because my balls were throbbing, that getting kneed somehow gave them a hair trigger. Or maybe it was because I hadn't had sex in forever. Whatever. The gurgles she made and how her eyes widened each time I fucked her throat just sealed the deal. Too fucking hot.

After only eight thrusts the cum just stampeded up my penis.

I shoved in, deep as I could, and grunted each time I ejaculated. She started swallowing and we developed a nice rhythm. My dick shooting forced her to swallow my cum. The contractions of her throat on my cock as she swallowed forced my prick shoot again. I shoot, she swallows. She swallows, I shoot. Shoot swallow, swallow shoot. On and on.

Even after I normally would have stopped, she kept swallowing. Kept me going. She seemed to be turning my balls inside out as she made me come, over and over and over.

When she gagged I pulled out. Hey, that's just how I am. She coughed out some cum as my last jet arced over her face and landed on her left hand and chest. Her body trembled and her eyes flickered and swam.

She'd been frigging herself faster as I flooded her throat, and she came. Hard and totally. Otherwise, why did her bladder release and piss shoot out in pulsing geysers? She kept rubbing herself as the urine splashed everywhere.

Now, I've never been into golden showers, but something about how this girl moaned as she came, how the piss spurted with each of her peaks, just got me. For the only time in my life, my cock was instantly hard again. And eager, needing to ejaculate once more.

I just had to see how the feel inside of her cunt compared to her mouth, but, being cautious - that's why I'm still alive - I had to test first. She moaned unhappily when I pulled her arm up, ripping her fingers out of her pussy. It fell when I released it. And twitched when she tried to get her hand back to her pussy. Her moan was frustrated, so I knew the stun gas was still highly effective.

It was safe to fuck her.

I slipped two fingers into her vagina and began sliding them in and out. Her next moans weren't frustrated, and became avid, eager, when I wormed my way over her, my thighs forcing her legs wide.

God! It was heaven inside her! There was no sudden resistance giving way, so I knew she wasn't a virgin, but I had to push hard to get in. She was that tight. Once I'd plumbed her depths I just let my cock soak there, feeling the tingles as every cell was coddled by the hot, sticky warmth surrounding it.

As marvelous as it was, the achy need inside me took over, and I pulled out. Almost all the way. Even the hot air - it was stifling inside the bombed-out building - felt cooler on the shaft of my cock than her boiling insides and I pushed slowly back in. Out then in. Out then in. Over and over.

I tried with all my might to stay slow, make it last, but something - maybe the gnawing need for completion inside me, or maybe how her moans kept getting higher in pitch and coming closer together - drove me on. Then I was fucking her like a rutting bull gone mad.

My consciousness devolved into just the head of my cock being caressed, sucked and squeezed by the tight, hot wet silk glove surrounding it. The excruciating ecstasy kept growing and growing. I heard my bestial growls echoing off the walls, forming a counterpoint to her fervent cries and squeals.

Then it burst. My back spasmed backwards as every muscle cramped and clenched. My neck kept snapping back with each ejaculation, driven by the clamping of her pussy on my dick. Over and over her orgasming vagina squeezed out more and more of my cum.

I finally collapsed down onto her, panting and gasping. Even then her voracious vagina kept milking my cock, forcing it to keep shooting, to give up all it had. I shuddered and shook as this woman's spasming pussy drained me.

When my eyes could open, I raised my head and looked at her. God, so beautiful! I kissed her. It was just natural, the only thing to do.

She recoiled violently, breaking the kiss and pulling back. Her eyes were volcanic fire, suffused with pure, unadulterated fury. I was stunned, shaken, truly alarmed, but then her eyes softened. Her head rose back to mine.

She kissed me.

And I was lost. She tasted, I don't know, exotic, spicy, sweet, pungent. Perfect. When her tongue snaked inside my mouth and began to play with mine, it drove all thought from my brain. Except that I never wanted that kiss to end.

Perhaps I should have been alerted when her hand wrapped around the back of my head and caressed it, holding me gently, holding my lips to hers. I should have realized that the stun gas had worn off, or been dissipated by her intense orgasms. Or maybe she'd faked it when I'd tested because she wanted to get fucked. Purposely let her arm fall to convince me it was safe, that the stun gas was still working.

Shit.

Faster than a radiation-mutated two-headed rattlesnake can strike, her one hand clenched in my hair and pulled my head back as her other drove her deadly nails into my throat.

Despite the sudden terror and pain, I froze, didn't dare move a muscle. I could feel my carotid artery pulsing against the razor sharp nail that had penetrated my skin but stopped just before slicing it. Killing me.

Her grip on the back of my head was deathlike, and her right elbow was raised, cocked, ready to thrust her fingers into my soft, vulnerable throat. Kill me in a nanosecond. Her eyes oozed triumph as they locked on mine.

Of course I obeyed when her hand in my hair pulled me up and away from her.

Knowing every second might be my last heightened my senses, and I was aware of everything. My blood, oozing out around her fingertips and running down my neck. My rapidly withering penis sliding out, the head poised just at the entrance of her hole. The gush of my semen cascading out of her pussy onto my dick. Her hand pulling me higher, then sideways, down onto my back. The scent of my sex, my sweat. My fear. The smell of her. Her sweat, her pussy, her breath. The sweetish sour whiff of her piss.

Once she had me on my back on the floor, she released my head. But kept the dagger fingernails poised at my vitals. When her left hand came back from her belt and deftly slipped the noose over my head, I knew.

This woman was Knafu, a member of the elite assassin class. I'd underestimated her, just as I had her age. Like me she had to be mid-20s. And she'd just secured the mechanized garrote around my throat. Once its auto anchor bored into the floor, and the noose took up the slack, I was done. I knew that, if I tried to escape - either get my fingers under the thin sharp wire or lunge against it - the device would reel in, tightening the thin cutting cord as it pulled itself flush to the floor.

It would slice my throat to the bone, and if I was lucky or quick enough to get fingers in the way, it would just slice them off, too.

I froze, trying not to move a muscle.

Her blue-black eyes bore into mine as she got to her feet, shook herself and stretched like a cat. Her head jolted in surprise and her hand leapt between her legs. She regarded her fingers when they came away from her pussy dripping with cum.

Her face remained impassive as she sniffed, then took the smallest taste, and her head cocked to one side. She sniffed again, first the cum, then a longer inhale in my direction. Her eyes changed. She licked her lips. Smiled.

Maybe it was payback for how I'd fucked her throat while she was stunned. Helpless. Maybe it was just that, like me, everything about the situation made her horny. She also knew her days were numbered, so why not?

Her eyes held mine as she wagged a warning finger in front of me and said, "Dak, I'm Elke. If you so much as move a muscle, the machine will trip and you'll die. Hard and fast." Then Elke sat down on my face. God! Her pussy was pungent, SO wet, viscous, thick, slick, slimy and gamy. Coated with my semen, her cum, her piss, our sweat.

I shuddered as her pheromones flooded into me, absorbed through her juice on my tongue and in my mouth. Through her scent filling my nostrils and exploding into my brain. Her sweat, cum and piss seeping into my bloodstream through the skin of my cheeks and chin.

My cock sprang up as her drug inundated me.

I strove with all my essence to stay stock still - to keep from tripping the device that would instantly kill me - as my tongue did what she wanted. She suspended herself over me. I licked. She moved. I licked. She shuddered and moved some more. I licked. She came and lifted off me.

I gasped in rapid, desperate breaths whenever she rose up to give her clit a rest from my tongue. When she was riding my face, her labia majora spread wide and sealed around my nose and mouth.

Somehow I knew to keep my licks steady, in the same spot, with the same pressure. Let her control everything. She moved her clit around, putting my tongue in the right place. Each time she got close to another climax she ground her pussy into my face. I licked fast and hard, trying to make her come so she'd pull away and I could breathe again. Trying not to move so I wouldn't die.

After one particularly good orgasm, she whipped her leg off me, spun 180, then she sat back down. We resumed our duties. I licked. She came. I licked. She came.

Her nails were like fire as she traced patterns across my chest, stomach, abdomen. And cock. I couldn't see anything except her pussy, butt cheeks and dusky puckered asshole as she hovered over me, but I was sure she was drawing blood, carving me up as she used me. But my cock, thinking "What a way to go!" throbbed and twitched while I licked and licked, trying to not move a muscle, not provoke the garrote to end me.

Then nothing. She was gone.

I blinked in surprise. The hot air felt slightly cool on my wet cheeks and lips. I remembered that the Knafu auto-garrotes could be controlled remotely as I felt the noose around my neck loosen and the device release itself from the floor.

Then I heard it. Growling.

My blood ran cold. I leapt to my feet, grabbed my backpack, weapons and gear, and beat it. Hid.

The growls were telling. A signature.

The radiation from the nuclear weapons unleashed in the Final War that killed so many animals and plants, hastening the ecological catastrophe, had also rendered almost all females sterile. Of every genus, species. And it altered those who could still reproduce. Made them more fertile. They could conceive and deliver progeny from fathers of different types. Different species. Give birth to hybrids, with characteristics of both.

Such females became valuable. Highly prized.

Clans sprang up as men, unable to reproduce with their sterile women, mated with animals. Then tried to incorporate those mutated offspring into their tribes. And males from the dominant animal packs, those who could stand the heat and deprivation, mated with the human women they captured.

While most new species were evolutionary disasters and died off or were killed and eaten quickly, the combination of humans and wolves was singularly successful. The offspring of such unions could speak like humans and communicate through growling like wolves. They could run like the wind on two legs or four, using their transitional arms as legs. Those arms could manipulate weapons and tools with their evolved claw-hands, and the new species seemed immune to the heat.