For Hawtsauce, Phantomrose and MatthewsGuass of /anime/

Note: To any randomer who does not belong to /anime/ don't read this story. It is a personalized story for the people of /anime/ - if you have no idea what /anime/ is (not anime, /anime/) then that means you should not be reading this.

Set in 1936, because why not?

The daytime traffic cluttered the streets of Chicago, the smell of petrol hang in the air like a rotten pineapple just split open. Bustles of people clambered around the sidewalk as though they were cattle on a drive, and pickpockets aplenty were sure to blaze a trail on any unfortunate tourist with a heart of gold. Thankfully the windy city lived up to its name; blowing in a cool and refreshing breeze that wiped the whole city clean taking any ill will away.

"Well that was fun; we should meet up again like this more often." The voice belonged to one of three people standing outside The Gandor Cafe, this one being called by his name Hawtsauce. His name suited his appearance well; seeing as he looked like he could fit right in with half the gangs of the city. His black-grey hair, like graphite, was blasted back into bushy spikes that adorned the back of his head; his faun skin complemented his dark brown eyes which, at the current moment, his black sunglasses hid behind a veil of mystery. Despite him looking like the nearest gang of delinquent's leader, he was but a humble accountant – his oak-coloured suit gave the impression he was either a chump or a man who should be left the hell alone.

Across from him were the recipients of his speech, a young couple. "Yeah absolutely; I don't think I eve' seen you dressed like that since Uncle Marshall's wedding. Gotta say you're lookin' like quite dapper for the kinda guy with a desk job." Replied the male part of the couple. His name was Matthew; he was a polish immigrant but you could never tell as he carried himself with the same air every other Dick and Jane in the city. His accent was that of a perfect wise guy and so was his appearance, short jet black hair slicked back with a few quiffs coming down the front of his forehead. He was tall and rather muscular; or perhaps his shirt just made him look that way as it was tucked into black slacks and help in place with suspenders. He looked just like the average Joe of this wind-swept city.

The same could not be said for his lady-friend, she was a rare beauty. Her long brown hair shone with a lustre only rivalled by precious metals, it curled outwards making her seem wild and untame; her peerless white skin was in likeness to the Swiss Alps' slopes. She wore a smart black dress that was cut off around the shoulders and ended by her knees; her black heels gave her more elevation leading people to believe at first glance that she was a singer for a Speakeasy* or an actress from Hollywood, which would not have been far from the truth seeing as though she was a model for the fashion industry. But what stood out even more than this were her stark crimson eyes, their powerful gaze was enough to startle the passing admirer or seduce the nearest newspaper stand vendor. Ironically; her name only gave her more grace – her name was Rose. The fashionistas came to giving her the nickname Phantomrose because of how difficult it was to acquire her for their company.

*Speakeasy – a type of dinner and show place where swing music was often played

"Well you know me, it ain't everyday that I get to meet up with two greats pals like you guys," Hawtsauce continued, "besides; if I didn't drag you guys all the way out here you two would never leave the damned house! You gotta get some more natural goodness in your bodies."

Rose's eyes flicked up to meet Hawtsauce's, "Yeah; I've been lacking the natural goodness I need as of late. Be a shame if I were to forget the feeling of it." Her tone was laced with sugar and her eyes spoke far more than words ever could to Hawtsauce. Thankfully Hawtsauce didn't respond with any strange quips and merely gave a grin back at Rose, and more thankfully Matthew was a few floors short of a skyscraper and didn't pick up on the obvious flirtation. Hawtsauce made a move before Matthew could pick up on anything, "Anyways, I gotta get back to my apartment – there's a lotta work left to do so I really weren't supposed to be out today," Turning his back to the 'love' birds he left on the line, "but I couldn't pass up this chance to see you."

"I'm glad you could come today though, sorry fer holdin' you up!" Matthew shouted after him, "come on pumpkin; let's go." Matthew opened up the passenger door to their Ford Model A Tudor Sedan for Rose, after shooting him a quick thanks she climbed in and closed the door after herself as Matthew went around the other side. Rose rested her head on her left hand as she leaned against the side of the window and stared out to the musty streets of the city. Matthew fired up the ignition and pulled out into the road. An assortment of people passed them by as they zipped from avenue to avenue, a variety of fedora sporting toughs to weedy looking salary men to posh dolls to rag dolls, a typical offset in this place and all over America. But Rose's thoughts did not lie with the assorted people walking their path, her thoughts lay with Hawtsauce – funnily enough, they were of the last time she 'lay' next to Hawtsauce.

It's not like Rose wasn't in love with Matthew; she just could not deny her lustful, guilty side that craved the energy that Hawtsauce provided. Matthew was a classic romantic taking her to dinner or treating her to a bottle of wine before pouring out his love onto her frail body, Hawtsauce was less so. And that's why Rose was addicted to him. The feeling she got whenever Hawtsauce tore into her clothes like a wild animal and grasped her modest breasts roughly, the sheer shock and surprise was enough to make the blood turn to magma and rush to her face; her sharp yips and gasps only served as fuel for Hawtsauce's fiery passion. He didn't wait around either, last time his tongue darted immediately for Rose's lower lips rather than the lips on her face. His tongue was like a cats tongue; the roughness of it brushed up against Rose's clitoris and lapped at it like fresh milk – Hawtsauce loved how Rose's thighs would always press against the side of his head after she clenched from the initial convulsion his sandy tongue brought.

Rose never even had the time to breathe after the first gasp she always used to give; all she could do was whine out half-sighs of animalistic pleasure as she was ravaged by Hawtsauce's mouth. The speed of which he gave her oral sex was to the point where Rose swore she would orgasm far before Hawtsauce even had the chance to start, and yet somehow, mercifully, she always managed to hang on as if her body subconsciously knew that there was more to come from the bad man between her legs. And that she wanted to experience everything he had to offer full-bodied with no watering down.

Maybe it was the rush of cheating on Matthew that gave her this immense desire, the feeling that she was doing something wrong and dangerous gave her a childish sense of glee every time she went to see Hawtsauce. She knew that she was a bad egg from the get go, she may as well live up to her nature. And right now, her 'nature' was being assaulted by a particularly horny accountant. Hawtsauce only gave her oral sex to make her wet enough to take his manhood; he never wanted the game to end by round one. He was a seductive accountant not Pete Hammond*. Rose always knew what to expect after she stopped feeling the strong ploughing of Hawtsauce's mouth, she lay back a moment in an attempt to catch her breath before Hawtsauce could lock his warm hands into her curves and-

"I don't know, what do you think?"

"Uh oh," Rose thought as she rapidly became aware of the fact that Matthew had been speaking to her all the time. As she turned to face him; her mind boiling and trying to come up with a quick response which would get her out this situation Matthew cut himself off, "On second thought, it don't really matter. I'm not really meant to talk about workstuff with you anyway – that type of talk should be saved for people I don't wanna entertain." Taking his eyes off the road for a second, he gave a fatherly smile to Rose as the sunlight bathed his face; highlighting the honey-glow in his cheeks. Rose took a moment to admire his looks; she still cared a great deal about him, in fact she felt somewhat sombre that he gave her such a loving smile when she was just thinking about one of the times she cheated on him.

*Pete Hammond was a very talented boxer in the 1930s

The car ground to a halt on a dusty sidewalk just a few miles north of The Gandor Cafe, it pulled up to home. Matthew climbed out and made his way up to their apartment in order to open the door, Rose quickly followed and walked up the stairs as Matthew raced down in order to lock the car door. Rose waltzed through the open door and into the apartment. The apartment seemed claustrophobic because of the closed hallway but in actuality the place was very large, the six doors on the hallway lead to six rooms of varied the size for the restroom, kitchen, dining area, study, longue – the largest of the rooms reserved for the bedroom. In the hall the only present objects were the telephone on the wall and the coat rack by the door, Rose made her way to the longue and settled herself down on one of the murky green sofas as Matthew went into the kitchen to brew up some coffee. Rose could swear to God that Matthew was the woman half the time, but it didn't bother her; less work for her to do. Rose played with her illustrious hair as she began to wonder about which company or agency would ask her to model for them and, as if they heard her, the telephone began to ring.

"I'll answer it," Rose called to Matthew as she started for the phone; assuming it was probably for her anyway since no-one ever calls Matthew; about work or personal. Come to think of it; not even people called around for him – his wage packets just used to arrive in brown unlabelled bags. Shaking off these arbitrary points; Rose picked up the receiver and spoke.

"Hello?"

"Hello," A voice lacquered in seductiveness called back. Rose immediately checked over to the kitchen door, where Matthew was still busy making coffee, before breaking out into a schoolgirl grin. "I'm glad I caught you on the phone and not your papa lil' lady," Hawtsauce continued, "be a real shame if he were to hear all of this dirty talk, right?" Rose stifled a giggle as she replied with equal immaturity, "Maybe I should call him over, there's a scary man on the phone who wants me."

"Oh how you know I do," A malevolent tone called back, "So how about you come over here and let the baby have his bottle?"

In that moment, Rose forgot all about her sense of duty to her partner and gave in; once again; to the accountant with the silver tongue. "I'll be over there as fast as I can," Rose replied in an instant, "See you soon." Rose put down the phone and turned to see Matthew holding two mugs of fresh coffee, Rose screamed internally; how long was he standing there?

"So who was that? Sounds like you need to meet up with some person or another." Matthew inquired. It was apparent he hadn't been there very long which caused Rose to relax immediately, Matthew hadn't caught onto anything. "Well, you see; I asked Hawtsauce to take some of my pictures – you know, the ones I was thinking on submitting to the Mice Lot modelling firm? Well I wanted him and his friends to tell me what they thought about them."

"I don't know how I feel about some Johnny pencil pusher looking at pictures of you." Matthew spoke with a firm glare and furrowed brows; Rose laughed slightly and shook her head. "So you're going to be jealous of every guy from here to Wyoming? Relax sweetie; they're just of me in a few dresses nothing X rated." Matthew quickly digested this information and nodded for her to continue, "Anyway, Hawtsauce rang me to say I can stop by to pick them up. I want to get them as soon as I can so I can send them to Mice Lot's as fast as I can. They're very exclusive but it'd be a big break for me if I can get the position."

Matthew walked into the longue area to put down the two cups of coffee, returned to Rose, reached into his back pocket and produced the car keys, "Want me to drive you there?" He offered; the stern look on his face was nowhere to be seen. "Oh no I'll be fine driving myself; it's only about five minutes or so after all." Rose turned to walk out the door but was stopped by Matthew's arms which were suddenly wrapped around her waist, embracing her in a warm; firm hug. "Promise you won't keep me waiting? Don't want your coffee getting cold." Matthew spoke into her ear teasingly, Rose broke out into a soft grin as Matthew kissed at the left side of her neck from behind. "I won't be too long sweetheart, keep my coffee warm 'til then okay?" Rose teased back, she had no intention of coming back too soon but she approved of Matthew's coyness. Rose broke free of Matthew's grip to give him a gentle kiss and her own hug, after bidding her lover farewell she walked out to the Ford; opened up the driver's door and drove towards Hawtsauce's place.

Throughout the journey Rose's mind wandered to illicit places, her mind boggled with the various things that Hawtsauce could do to her this time – even if it was the same stuff as before; it still thrilled her as though it was completely new almost as if she became a virgin again every time she entered his apartment. Before she knew it she was nearly running red lights in a blind flurry to get to Hawtsauce's den of inequities, the feeling she was experienced could only be described as hunger. A desire to feel the warmth of another man, a desire to be used again and again, a desire to spill her juices all over like the harlot she is.

Pulling up to Hawtsauce's place; she locked up the car and didn't waste a second as she began to walk up the stairs. "Oh wait." Rose announced as she turned around to open the car back up. Opening the glove compartment of the Model A; she pulled out a bottle of a mixture of perfume and some herbs a Chinaman claimed worked as a strong amphetamine – she didn't care if it actually worked efficiently or not. She'd take any chance if it meant Hawtsauce would sink more energy into the 'job'. Dousing herself with sprays of the sweet smelling solution, she shook her hair to make sure it still carried its shine and shape and checked her make-up. Pretty as a picture. Relocking the car; Rose started again toward the place she long wanted to be. Climbing the stairs the air was rife with anticipation and intrepedation, all of which emanated from the lascivious lady in black bearing down on apartment number 304, Hawtsauce's place. Whenever she reached the brick red door; she felt as though she was standing at the pearly gates of the high above, or the black gates filled with brimstone of the depths below – it all depended on the mood of the angel-come-reaper inside. She knocked on the door three times and tucked her hair into place as she waited. A voice beckoned, "It's open." And with that, Rose stepped into the lion's den.

Hawtsauce's apartment was just like any other in the place except with more artwork on the walls, Rose often criticized his taste in art saying that there wasn't any artwork in his apartment because no-one put work into it and it certainly wasn't art. He would take this chance to tease back; saying Rose was art that he'd like to put work into. Rose walked further into the depths of his abode; she knew exactly where he would be waiting. Opening the door to the bedroom she expected to see him under the bed sheets wearing nothing, his fuzzy chest out in plain sight and an inviting arm resting on the headboard. But he was not there. Completely confused Rose walked into the bedroom,

"Gotcha."

Before she even had time to react an unseen assailant had lifted her off the floor and threw her onto the bed in a fell swoop. "The gates of hell tonight." Rose thought as she landed on the bed with a pomf. She cleared her hair to try and see where Hawtsauce was hiding but in a flash her vision was blocked by his very body, the next thing she felt were his rugged hands brushing up her sides as her dress slowly slid off. Usually the sounds of the streets and the running of the overhead trains filled the place with noise, but somehow; in the moment; everything went entirely quiet as though the world stopped for this couple to indulge in their pleasures in the serene tranquillity that the city that never slept could offer. Rose's scarlet eyes gazed into the abyss of Hawtsauce's dark brown eyes, always searching for something but never finding anything but the burning desire to rack her small framed body with shocks and convulsions. Her dress came off just as easily as she put it on; underneath she wore no underwear, she normally has this custom whenever on a trip to Hawtsauce's home. 'It would just get in the way' she always reasoned with herself; and often with Hawtsauce and Matthew.

Her snow white skin showed amazing contrast to the dark and murky colours of Chicago; but it was always her body's perfect shape that blew Hawtsauce's mind. She was just like Mardee Hoff* but with slightly smaller breasts; sitting pretty at a 42C as opposed to Hoff's D-cups. Her nipples were a light pink and stood out erect thanks to the breeze blowing in from a window that Hawtsauce opened earlier. He said he did it on purpose to see her quiver before he started on her, "Bastard." Rose used to curse to herself. Hawtsauce brushed back the brown hair that had fallen down on her face; stroked his hand down her left temple, down to her jaw line where he grasped behind her ear and pulled her head to closer to kiss her strongly.

*Mardee Hoff was a model in 1930s – she was regarded as having the most perfect figure of any woman in New York

His lips pressed against hers; smearing her makeup that she applied so meticulously and causing her upper lip to go numb, Rose merely closed her eyes and let Hawtsauce take her. His hands wormed their way around her back; his sleeves scratching at the surface of her flawless skin causing small red scuff marks to become apparent on her lower back. The roughness of the scratching of the metal buttons on his suit jacket brought about a mild yet arousing pain, a pain that Rose was thankful for; almost as if pinching herself to make sure she wasn't in a dream. Hawtsauce became aware of the redness his suit was bringing and broke away from Rose's lips with a wet pop, "Sorry 'bout that darlin'." Hawtsauce apologized as he began to remove his own clothes, Rose's crimson eyes met his; dripping with a seducing glaze "Oh it's fine, you were just," Rose shrugged, "marking your territory right? You dirty beast."

Hawtsauce retorted with a deep, dark chuckle as he stood up to remove his clothes. Rose watched him as he undressed with an almost childlike curiosity; she enjoyed watching him doing even menial things which never made sense to her since she came to visit him for his wild energy. However in moments like these she took respite in the calm before the storm. Hawtsauce removed his suit jacket and hung it up on a nearby billhook where he often kept his hats – he wasn't too fussed as to where his suit ended up at the current time, just so long as it wasn't on him. The rest of his clothes came off in rapid succession: his tie, his shirt and his pants all came off in a frenzy. "Seems like you're pretty eager today." Rose speculated. "Speak for yourself Miss It-Just-Gets-In-The-Way." Hawtsauce quipped back.

Hawtsauce had finished taking of all of his clothes which now lay strewn all over the floor without a single bit of care and/or attention as to how clean his floor was, which was rather odd considering he hang up his suit jacket but rose had more pressing matters on her mind; and what was on her mind was what she wanted on the bed. Namely the fine specimen of a man who stood before her. Hawtsauce already stood tall but right now he seemed to be the tallest in the world, his stocky shoulders standing out broadly; his muscles had been honed from the drill exercises that compulsory military he undertook – only he took them far more seriously than anyone else in his squadron. His pecks, his biceps, abs, triceps – every muscle in his body look as though it was cultivated from steel itself, the fuzz that covered his chest usually was trimmed down to a fine dusting more than its usual curls. Rose's gaze was more centred around Hawtsauce's 'centrepiece' which stood out fully hardened and ready for action, if looks could kill then Hawtsauce had a BAR* down there. Rose took a long time to wonder about his cock's actual size – nine inches was being too generous but eight inches didn't give it enough grace. Albeit; it felt as though it was thirty when it was inside her.

*BAR = Brownman's Assault Rifle, a .50cal rifle used from WW1 to the Gulf War of the 1990s

Before Rose could have a trademark sarky comment Hawtsauce was already bearing down on her, his lips finding the nook in between her jaw and her neck and ravenously kissed her; throwing in a few pinches and bites here and there to keep things interesting and stopping any feeling of numbness which may dull the pleasure, Hawtsauce wanted her to feel every little kiss he had to place on her – and did Rose feel it. The energy that Hawtsauce always poured in bled into her very being and caused her to submit to his every wish. She felt Hawtsauce's other hand slowly trail up her right arm which lay paralyzed from the brooding sensation flowing from where her neck and Hawtsauce's mouth made contact, his chilly hand brushed up the same path her tendons and nerves took to let her feel more immersed in his presence – when his fingers reached hers they locked together and he held her hand as he pushed his body harder against her. His solid dick pressed against the surface of her stomach causing Rose's eyes to widen with the new and unexpected feeling, it felt more like a whole car shaft was forced on her "Car, shaft? Well; I'd say he's a real mustang." Rose giggled at this light joke in her head, she'd tell him that one later.

A sudden, frosty sensation was felt on the inside of her left thigh as Hawtsauce's right hand curled into the recess in between her crotch and her leg, Hawtsauce stopped his feverous assault on her neck pulled away from Rose. "Now then, princess, what am I to do with you?" He teased, "Should I rekindle your fire?" His left hand let go of hers and stroked from the surface of her vagina, up her silky stomach, gently gliding over her tits; from the left one to the right one; before scooping down the crevice of her collarbone and throat coming to a halt on her chin where he lifted her head to meet his striking gaze. Rose's eyes were full of pleading this time rather than a dominating will; she wished to be the dominated in Hawtsauce's presence. She could only find one word which she spoke ever so softly,

"Please."

In an instant; Hawtsauce's hand cupped her vagina, "As you wish." He replied with a hint of dark malice as his fingers wormed their way inside her. The sheer cold of his fingers against her beefy cervic walls made her give out a high pitched "Huuh." Immediately, Hawtsauce took this as a response to up his game. He pushed his right index finger and middle finger into Rose's steamy body and curled them to form a hook which he jiggled around inside her. A new move to Rose; and one of which she most certainly approved of. She lost her mind to this new, unprecedented way of pleasuring – the tickling feeling inside her evolved into a pulsating shock which vertebrated up her spine. To make matters even worse, or better depending on the point of view, Hawtsauce's left hand had somehow found its way to Rose's left butt cheek; which proceeded to rub, massage and caress her perfectly round posterior. This just doubled the initial reaction she had, "Ha, ha, haha, huughhmm." This was more than Rose was used to; the wriggling sensation inside her and the rotating grip on her outside sparked her 'engine' – her inner juices began to lubricate her inner walls and her cheeks filled with red as she anticipated Hawtsauce's entry.

"Heheheheh." A dark chuckle of satisfaction, filled with pride, was heard by her ear as the cooling extremities inside her pulled out. They were quickly replaced by a single strong shaft which plunged into her depths with a large; sudden; pressing force – Hawtsauce knew that Rose was no stranger when it came to sex so he didn't feel the need to be gentle with her, and Rose never wanted to feel the 'gentle' side anyway. As his dick pushed further into her peachy pussy Rose tightened her grip on his shoulders; her manicured nails began to scrape the same way Hawtsauce's jacket did a moment ago, the way she dug her nails in would normally make a man feel a sharp sting, but Hawtsauce was no normal man. Just like Rose; he got an edge off mild pain and in response to her 'cat scratching' he pulled out and pushed his pulsating erection even deeper still. All Rose could do was cry out; tighten her grip and hold on as Hawtsauce forced his fat dick into her toasty, inviting cherry pie. Hawtsauce was like a jackhammer; pounding her relentlessly and gaining even more girth every time he plunged into her wet depths.

With each thrust Rose's body felt contorted and twisted with an unadulterated euphoria as her vagina tightened as though it subconsciously responded to Hawtsauce's monster cock, at the current moment she just wanted to feel him fill her with his hot sauce and make her feel whole. A thrill Matthew rarely provided.

"Rose." Her name so softly spoken placed her in a blissful state as the thrusts slowed down a little, "Rose." A bit sharper this time, the thrusting began to grind to a halt. Something was wrong, "Rose!?"

Oh. Fuck.

She recognized this voice instantly; it belonged to a certain man whom she lived with. Her heart stopped; the blood drained from her face as she opened her eyes to see Matthew standing in the doorway with an indomitable air surrounding him. Rose has seen the scum of this city; muggers and rapists aplenty; but right now – Matthew was the most terrifying being on planet earth. The silence didn't help one bit. After a short and extremely awkward silence of exchanging looks between the three, the guilty party and the judge; jury and executioner in front of them. Finally mustering up the courage; Rose was the first to shatter this icy atmosphere, "Ma-Matthew? Wha-what're you doing here!?" Rose stammered in disbelief. Matthew threw a brown dossier on the table; inside were all of Rose's pictures, "They were on the coffee table, right where you left them." Matthew paced into the room; a stern and terrifying look plastered on his face. "I wasn't going to come here but a friend of mine, fella by the name of Felix; I work with him, was headin' in this direction so I hitched a ride to take you home." Matthew continued, "But looks like you want to stick around it seems." His disgruntled tone was laced in poison. Hawtsauce took this opportunity to climb off Rose and cover them both in the bed sheet, not drawing Matthew's gaze for even a second.

The once 'fatherly' man in front of Rose now glowed with malicious intent, she'd never seen him like this before and; suffice to say; was terrified as to what he would do. "I-I know this looks bad but, hear me out okay?" To tell the truth, Rose had not a damned clue what to say – she was just trying to quell any violent feelings Matthew may have possessed. In response to this Matthew sank into a nearby chair; his face not changing an iota, "This better be good." He growled. Rose swallowed hard; all eyes in the room were on her as her 'trial' began. "I'm just going to blurt out my feelings, since I-I-I don't really know what to say," Rose was shaking; both her voice and her body. Taking a deep breath she continued, "I-It's not like I don't love you anymore or care about you, I...I just wanted to feel the rush of another man's touch." She bit her lip, "I know I'm a bad person for doing this and I knew all along that something like this would only serve to hurt you, and that's why...that's why I can only say I'm sorry," Tears began to pour down her cheeks; but these were not caused by her gift of acting – they were as real as rain, "I'm sorry I screwed you around like this and I'm sorry for even looking at someone else other than you." She took a deep breath, "I'll accept any punishment you see fit, even death. Just..." Rose brought herself up to meet Matthew's eyes, "...forgive my weakness..."

The tension in the room was thicker than Johnson's golden syrup; but carried none of the sweetness. It was serenely calm as Matthew's line of sight didn't waver for even a second; making him look like an ominous statue more than a person – it was easily apparent however that he was weighing things up inside his head. A gruelling five minutes of silence, which felt like a lost eon, passed before Matthew spoke, "So that's it? You just wanted to feel the warmth of another man?" He inquired with a very, very inane tone; so inane it took Rose off-guard entirely – he was far too calm given the situation. Rose swallowed and nodded. Matthew picked himself up; raised his hand and brought it down...gently on Rose's cheek. The softest of touches was a total shock to both Rose and Hawtsauce – both of who could only gawk at Matthew's under-reaction, and even more so at his smile. "Why didn't you just say so?" Matthew spoke in his fatherly tone, "I wouldn't mind sharing you in a three-way you know?"

These words gave Rose the most complex vortex of emotions which swept away inside her, despite the very advantageous situation she said, "What? Bu-but aren't you mad? After what I've done you ju-" She was silenced by one of Matthew's fingers which fell on her lips, looking up into his eyes he spoke, "A man forgives a woman's lies." He then reached behind the back of her head and kissed her passionately. Rose's initial shock quickly devolved as she melted into him and was quickly reminded why she was in love with him, the blood returned to her face and she kissed him back; wrapping her slender arms around his neck. Matthew broke the kiss and hugged her strongly, "I still love you Rose." He murmured into her ear. Tears formed once again in Rose's eyes – but this time they were tears of joy. Matthew pulled away and turned his gaze to Hawtsauce as he began to remove his shirt, "Hey Hawtsauce; seems my lady is a two man job, you wanna be the conductor or the shoveller?" Matthew quipped. Hawtsauce merely gave back a sly grin and retorted with, "Hell; I'll take being a ticket vendor rather than being a stowaway on this runaway train!"

Matthew laughed as he turned away to remove his clothes; his shirt notwithstanding, "Better get the old girl fired up then." "With pleasure." was the response this time. Hawtsauce threw the bed sheet that covered them away; letting a chill breeze brush up Rose's back once more. Wordlessly Hawtsauce got Rose on her hands and knees, "Let's start with the ignition." He teased as he pushed his still hard cock back into her wet vagina; an immediate, loud "Hah!" shot out from Rose's mouth. "Look like the fire's going Mr Conductor, want to take the helm?" Hawtsauce continued with the train-related innuendo. "With pleasure." Matthew beckoned with teasing glee. All his clothes had been removed, he was taller than Hawtsauce but his muscles weren't as honed – he was burly and broad but not exactly a brick shithouse like his friend on the bed. However; his manhood was certainly longer and larger – something he prided himself on. Matthew firmly grasped Rose's head in his large hands and pushed his meaty package deep into her mouth, he always thanked the stars that Rose had no gag reflex. His helmet pushed across her buttery-smooth tongue and came into contact with her tonsils and the back of her trachea, his shaft filled Rose's mouth who began to suck like no tomorrow. She'd never had two guys at the same time. The insane sensation and thrills she felt by having two hard dicks inside her at the same time was indescribable, the way both men's cocks pushed so deep and filled her made her loose all rational thinking and acting entirely on impulse. Her right hand darted for Matthew's shaft as she began to play with his shaft while suckling on the very tip of his penis, her left hand reached her clit as she began to rub and circle her little woman-button. All her cries of joy and sexual desire had been muffled by Matthew's entrance of her mouth, "Hmm, hmph, hmph, ummph" was the only sounds that could really come out of her except for the wet schlicking of Hawtsauce's pounding and the sticky popping of whenever Matthew pushed his shaft deeper and deeper into her mouth which clenched around his cock like a kid with a yoghurt tube. Although she was one big kid; so she needed plenty of 'natural goodness'.

Hawtsauce felt like he couldn't hold on much longer and began his erotic panting; barely holding on to the edge of. Too late. Rose winced as she felt Hawtsauce's erection pulsate as it filled her with his baby gravy, "Ohhh, uhhh. Heh, heh, heheh." Hawtsauce let his pleasure show as he gasped and even chortled as his man juices filled up Rose's slimy delight. Matthew was about to poke fun at Hawtsauce's lack of endurance before the thought of how long they may have been at it before he arrived came to mind, it shut him up pretty quickly. It also increased his speed of his thrusting into Rose's vice of a mouth, he always joked that her mouth could bring down a plane – but right now, it was an accurate description. He grunted as her teeth gently glided; and sometimes not gently; across his shaft as he pushed deeper into her drooling orifice. Matthew didn't often have oral sex with Rose, but when he did. It couldn't be matched by any other sensation, he doubted that even the new drug 'heroin' could match up to this high. Rose felt herself go as her rubbing and sucking finally got the better of her as she squirted and dripped all over Hawtsauce's bed – neither of them could actually give a damn about how he was going to get it out. Right now was not the time for words; only lust. Of which Matthew just filled her mouth with. With a loud roar of "Ouuurgh" Matthew's meat shook in Rose's mouth, seeing her cum must have really been a drive for Matthew who let loose all his 'love' into her mouth, each time his dick throbbed Rose tightened her mouth – she had to make up for cheating on him, she better start by giving him the best blowjob she could provide. Matthew pulled out once he was spent; struggling to catch his breath as he nursed his now beaten erection. Rose mulled over what to do with the hot load in her mouth, steeling herself for a moment; she swallowed it all. She couldn't say much for the taste but considering she already soaked Hawtsauce's bed in her own juices, it'd be pretty inconsiderate to drop Matthew's load all over it too. She collapsed onto the bed; covered in her own and the other's sweat – they all took a moment to get some air in them.

"Whoa, now that was something." Hawtsauce remarked between a few gasps. "Yeah, I honestly wish you'd told me sooner," Matthew replied with sitting down on the chair; his eyes observing Rose who fell into a sweet slumber. He grinned as he said, "Well that was fun; we should meet up again like this more often."

Author's Note: Yes! I finally used pomf in one of my stories!