WARNING: GRAPHIC CONTENT
Women called it a Battle of the Sexes. We were just after the pussies God made for us. If that's wrong none of us cared. My buddies Buck, Tyson and I were winning, getting our fill. So were any women we came across. Most of the mature ones died off fastest. That left younger ones without hair on their cunts. I'm sure some born out of the struggle. Maybe twenty or so were my own kids. I only felt a little guilty. The pleasure made it worth while. Them girls were so lean and tender, like a fresh cut of veal. My mouth waters just thinking of it. I remember pulling one of these young calves into an abandoned house with my buddies. She was crying something fierce, maybe a virgin, if there were any left to be had. There'd be some blood, I thought, a little tearing but she'd be good and worn in my the time we all had our way.
I went first, thinking I'd make an honest women out of her. She screamed as I unzipped my jeans with one hand and pinned her with the other. Not an easy flower to unpluck but I was up to the job. A few squirms, a hit to her face and I was in. She wasn't wet but I took it in stride. Couldn't let the little slut enjoy herself too much. Her breasts were small but I grabbed onto them just the same. I missed the fuller ones. A ride was a ride so I pumped her a good five or ten times. That's when the door opened.
In walked this big-breasted goddess with an automatic rifle. I might've thrown the little git aside and gone for the main course if she hadn't fired rounds into me and my buddies. I got one shot off but that was it. I felt a twinge of regret, for her and the other women; a little respect for the bitch shooting. "She was a goddamn hero," I thought, hitting the ground, "and we all paid the price."