Rosie was panting and wriggling on my lap, and I paused, fondling her instead of spanking her. 'Enough?' I queried, but she turned her head and looked at me, biting her bottom lip, and shook her head, and I started to slap her backside again.

At last she gasped 'No more, darlin' – I can't wait. Fuck me on the carpet, so it hurts my bottom!'

I lowered her to the floor and climbed on top of her, and she started squirming, rubbing her stinging backside against the carpet, shuddering and grunting with pain as I fucked her. She was already having an orgasm, and she clung to me and kissed me wildly until my semen spurted into her, and then she screamed and fell back on the carpet, her body still jerking uncontrollably. Finally she opened her eyes and smiled at me weakly.

'Next time, use your belt on me, darlin'. And don't be so gentle!'

We went into the bedroom and Rosie collapsed onto the bed, face down, and I lay down beside her. We both slept for a while, and when we woke up she winced as she tried to sit up. I rubbed cream on her reddened bottom, and fondling her like that got us both excited again. She eased herself off the bed and went into the bathroom, to return with the Vaseline.

'I can't lie on my back for a bit for you to fuck me, darlin', so I'll fuck you with my tits!'

She smeared Vaseline on her breasts and then knelt and took my cock between them, rubbing them up and down my shaft with her hands until I exploded, spurting my semen over her face and under her chin and watching it trickle down over her body. Then she licked and sucked my cock, drinking the last drops until I softened between her lips.

Later she straddled me again, and then I fucked her standing up, supporting her as she wrapped her legs round my waist, but when we went to bed she was ready to be fucked on her back before we fell into an exhausted sleep.

The next morning, Monday, I had another meeting with my publisher, and Rosie looked at me sadly. 'I'd better be on my way, then, darlin'. It's been a terrific weekend, and the fuckin' was lovely!'

I took her in my arms and kissed her. 'You don't have to go unless you want to, Rosie. Why not stay here for a few more days?'

Her face broke into a smile. 'And a few more fucks? All right, then, darlin', if you want me too!'

I was on the train before I realized what a fool I'd been. She was a slut, a whore, and she probably knew every criminal in miles, and let them fuck her, too. All she had to do was call someone, and they'd empty my flat in minutes, taking everything I had and leaving me with nothing. All my possessions, and my computer with all my work on it ...

The meeting lasted longer than I'd expected, and was followed by an equally long lunch, and then more talking when we got back to the office, so that it was early evening by the time I got home. I nearly ran all the way from the station, afraid of what I might find and cursing myself for not having called the police earlier to try to stop my flat from being burgled.

When I anxiously opened my front door, the light was on, and I was greeted by the smell of furniture polish. The mirror in the hall sparkled, and everywhere I looked everything was spotless and gleaming, and then Rosie appeared from the kitchen, once again wearing my shirt, unbuttoned, and her face lit up with a welcoming smile.

'Thought you was never comin' 'ome, darlin'! I was getting' worried! Would you like a drink?'

Instead of answering, I took her in my arms, slipping my hands inside her – my – shirt to feel her naked body as I kissed her frantically, and then I picked her up and carried her into the bedroom. I got my clothes off in seconds, and plunged my cock into her, to start fucking her furiously. She responded at once, struggling out of the shirt as I pounded into her, and then she was writhing against me, returning my kissed and jerking her hips up to meet me and match my thrusts, and then we both climaxed wildly, kissing and clutching each other. I seemed to pump semen into her endlessly, and she kissed me and stroked my hair as I trembled against her. Then, at last I relaxed, trying to catch my breath as she kissed my face.

'Gawd, darlin'! Are you all right? After all the fuckin' we did at the weekend, I'd 'ave thought you'd 'ave 'ad enough of me! Let me get you that drink ...'

'I – I was just glad to see you, Rosie,' I said, feeling guilty about my suspicions, but it was more than that – I really was glad to see her.

She laughed. 'It's lucky I got us some steak for dinner – it'll 'elp you get your strength back!'

Once again dinner was cooked to perfection, and I admired everything she'd done in cleaning the place up. We fucked twice more during the evening, and then we went to bed and I fucked her up her bottom, loving the feel of my semen spurting up her back passage as I gripped her hanging breast with one hand and fingered her dripping vagina with the other.

I used the second bedroom as an office, and I worked there all morning. I was delighted to feel that I working better than I ever had before. Rosie went out to get a few things, and then we had beer and sandwiches for lunch. She was wearing her peasant blouse and skirt again, and I remembered that that was all she had.

'Rosie – let's go out and get you some new clothes – you can't just keep wearing what you've got on and my shirts,' I said, and she smiled incredulously.

'D'you really mean it, darlin'? You want to buy me things?'

We went to a nearby department store, and Rosie started to pick things out and ask me if I liked them. I hated shopping, but she was so obviously happy that for once it wasn't so bad. She dragged me off to tell her what I thought when she tried them on, accompanied by a young shop assistant. She'd selected a couple of skirts and some tops and sweaters, and I told her to get a couple of dresses as well, so that I could take her out to dinner, and her eyes filled with tears.

Everything she'd selected was either tight or revealing, and sometimes both, and I grinned my approval. She appeared from the changing cubicle in a tight-fitting blue dress that matched her eyes, with a plunging neckline and a short hem that showed off her legs, and I told her she looked lovely.

'It's a pity it's too small in there for you to come in and 'elp me change, darlin'. You know I like it when you strip me naked,' she said, smiling wickedly, and the young girl assistant blushed furiously.

Once she appeared briefly wearing just her panties to get something from the pile she'd forgotten, and the sight of her naked breasts made my cock stiffen, and I wished I could go into the cubicle and fuck her there and then.

Next she selected some shoes, all with high heels, and then she asked me if I preferred tights or stockings.

'Neither,' I sad. 'I like you with bare legs.'

'Right, darlin'. Bare legs it is! Like this!' she grinned, and hoisted her skirt to reveal her naked thighs.

Then she chose some panties, and looked at me pleadingly. 'Can I get a couple of bras, darlin'? I won't wear 'em often. Just half-bras, you know, to push me tits up and show off me cleavage?'

I gave in, and she picked out a couple that consisted of bits of lace and a couple of straps, and then she bought some makeup. I shuddered when I discovered what everything had cost me, but then the look on Rosie's face made it all worthwhile, and anyway I'd just signed a deal for a new book and received a substantial advance, so I didn't really mind.

Then Rosie nuzzled her breasts against my arm. 'While you're spendin' all that money, darlin', I've just about spent all your change, so can you give me a bit more cash for things we need?'

I shuddered again, and got some money from the ATM – a lot of money.

When we got home, laden with packages, I put the money in a jar in the kitchen and told Rosie to help herself to whatever she needed, and then she disappeared into the bedroom, to emerge wearing one of her new bras and panties.

'Darlin' – you've got to fuck me the first time I put new things on, so that I'll remember your cock in me every time I wear them!'

I was only too happy to start, and that evening we got through a dress, a skirt and a couple of sweaters.

The next day I had to do an interview for the book I was working on, and I didn't get home until late afternoon. When I saw Rosie, I caught my breath – she had on the dress and high-heeled shoes, and the grey had gone from her hair. It had been re-styled, and shone with auburn highlights, and for the first time I saw her wearing makeup. She looked at least ten years younger, and I felt myself beginning to harden. There was no other word for it – she looked fabulous, and I told her so.

She flushed with pleasure, and came into my arms and kissed me. I glanced down at her – the dress had a very low neckline, and I saw that she was wearing the bra that pushed her breasts up and together, and then I noticed a thin gold chain round her neck that disappeared in her cleavage. I was puzzled, because I'd never seen her wearing jewellery before, and I pulled the chain out, to see that on it was suspended a pound coin.

'Do you like it, darlin'? It's the pound I took for that first feel you 'ad. The nice bloke in the jeweller's shop did it while I waited, after I let 'im find out 'ow long the chain needed to be to go between my tits – I should 'ave charged 'im for a feel, too!'

I stripped her naked, apart from the chain – she said she was always going to wear it, and rub it against her tit to remind her, and she gave me a demonstration – she cupped her breast in one hand, and with the other she scraped the coin against her rubbery nipple until it became engorged and stood out like the top joint of my little finger, and then I fucked her.

She told me she'd spent a lot of my money having her hair done, and her nails too, and she'd painted her toenails for me, and I sucked her toes and fucked her again.

The next few days were wonderful, and I suddenly realized I'd never been so happy. Often while I was busy writing Rosie would bring me a mug of coffee, and kneel between my legs and suck my cock 'to give me a break', as she said.

Occasionally I'd take her to the local pub for lunch, and if the weather was nice I'd let her persuade me to walk back through the park. Once when it had been raining overnight she took her shoes off and walked barefoot through the grass, saying it was a pity there were people around because she'd like me to lay her down and fuck her right there. She was wearing her original peasant off-the-shoulder blouse and flowery skirt because she knew I liked her to sometimes, to remind me of when I'd first met her. This time, though, she had on a pair of skimpy peach-coloured panties – I knew, because they were all she'd worn all morning. But no bra, of course. We came to a log by a patch of bare earth with a large puddle of rainwater – Rosie glanced around, but there was nobody nearby, and she sat on the log and pulled her skirt up around her waist. Then she bent down and scooped up some mud in her hand, and smeared it over her thighs and belly, and then inside her blouse of her breasts.

'You like me dirty, darlin', she said, 'so take me 'ome and fuck me like this!'

One evening we were sitting on the sofa together – she was wearing a skirt and sweater, and I put my hand on her bare leg and slid it up under her skirt. 'Rosie – it's funny,' I said. 'There was a woman sitting opposite me on the train the other day with her legs crossed and showing a lot of thigh. I couldn't help looking, but – all I thought about was you!'

Rosie looked at me strangely and kissed me. 'I know what you mean, darlin'. When I go out, blokes look at me like they always do, but they don't interest me no more. P'raps it's because you keep fuckin' my brains out, and I'm too tired. Put your 'and up 'higher, darlin' – that's right – ooh, that's nice!'

The only setback came a week or so later. I'd spent the day out again, and when I got home Rosie was sitting on the floor, wearing one of my shirts again and hugging her knees and crying brokenheartedly. She scrambled to her feet and rushed to me and threw herself into my arms, sobbing. Her face was streaked with tears, and her body was trembling, but when I asked he what was wrong she wouldn't tell me, and just asked me to fuck her.

I stripped her and entered her – at first she just stared at me, shuddering, and then when I started to fuck her she was like a wild animal. She was still crying, rubbing herself against me and clinging to me, digging her nails into me and screaming at me to fuck her harder. Her orgasm was the most violent I'd ever seen, and she kept kissing me and holding onto me, grinding her body against me, and when I softened she begged me to stay inside her.

That evening I cooked us a frozen pizza, and Rosie wouldn't let me out of her sight, and we sat side by side at the kitchen table. She had my shirt on again, wrapped tightly round her body, and she made me put my arm round her while we ate. She jammed herself against me, and just picked at her food, stifling sobs and sometimes turning towards me and burying her face in my shoulder and then asking me to kiss her. We went to bed and fucked again, and all night she hugged me and made me hold her.

She was still upset for two or three days, before things more or less returned to normal, although she wouldn't tell me what was the matter, and sometimes I detected an underlying sadness even when she was apparently happy.

One evening she surprised me by asking me to tell her about my mother.

I shrugged. 'I don't remember much about her. She ran off with another man when I was a teenager.'

Rosie looked at me. 'Did you ever want to fuck her?'

I was suddenly embarrassed, but I nodded. 'Yes, lots of times. She was always walking around with not much on, and my father kept telling her to "cover herself up in front of the boy.", and I used to masturbate thinking about her. I remember going into her bedroom once and all she was wearing was her panties, and I threw my arms round her and buried my face in her naked breasts ...'

'Did you love her?'

'Until she went away, but then I hated her for leaving me ...'

'What 'appened then, darlin'?'

'My father got a housekeeper – her name was Mrs Hopkins - she was about sixty, and skinny as a rake. She always wore black dresses, with her grey hair pulled back tightly, and after a while I heard her going into my father's room at night. Then one day she kissed me and put her hand on my cock, and I started fucking her. Usually I pretended to myself it was my mother I was fucking. Mrs Hopkins said my mother was a wicked woman, but I didn't think so – I didn't blame her for leaving my father – I never got on with him, and Mrs Hopkins said he wasn't much good in bed, but I could never forgive her for not taking me with her ...'

Rosie took out my cock and kissed it. 'Maybe she thought you'd be better off with your father, darlin'.'

'No, she just didn't want me – as I said, I hated her, and I still do.'

I sat there thinking back as Rosie started to suck me, and when we went to bed she was surprisingly tender – until the next day, and then I fucked her furiously, and she responded eagerly.

We had sex at least twice, and usually three, four or five times a day – the days turned into weeks, and the weeks became months, and I just seemed to get happier, and the sex got better and better. Then my book was published in America, and I heard it got good reviews, and I took Rosie out to dinner to celebrate.

We had a wonderful time, and in the taxi on the way home I put my hand up her skirt and got her panties off and stuffed them in my pocket, and she put her hand in my trousers, and we kissed and I finger-fucked her all the way to the flat. When I paid the driver her winked and nodded towards Rosie – she was climbing the stairs, her arms behind her back unfastening her dress, and as I looked she shrugged it off her shoulders, baring her naked back as she went in the door.

She was lying on the bed, wearing just her shoes and the coin on the chain round her neck – she never took it off, not even in the shower – and I had my clothes off in an instant, and then we were fucking ...

It was a wonderful fuck – Rosie felt it too, and I erupted like a volcano into her, and we kissed each other wildly, until at last I stopped and Rosie smiled at me, her eyes moist with tears.

'Rosie – I – that was marvellous – it always is - but there was more to it than just fucking,' I stammered. 'What I'm trying to say is, I've never been so happy, and I want ...'

Rosie stopped me by putting her hand over my mouth.

'Don't say any more, darlin'. I think it's time I moved on. It's been wonderful, but I should go. I'll sleep on the sofa tonight, and – leave tomorrow ...'

She started to cry, and I tried to kiss her, but she pushed me away and sat up, and I looked at her beautiful naked body. She sniffled, and then continued, not looking at me.

'From the very start, I felt there was something wonderful about being with you – despite the difference in our ages, it seemed that I'd found something I'd been subconsciously searching for all my life,' she said. I thought she sounded different, and I suddenly realised that her accent had changed.

'My name isn't really Rosie – that was just a nickname my father gave me once after he spanked my bare bottom. You can guess why. I knew nothing about you, and then I saw letters addressed to you as John Foster, or J.E. Foster, and I tried to tell myself it was just an uncanny coincidence. But I had to know, and one day I searched your desk, and found your passport, and your birth certificate, and it was all there – your date and place of birth, your father's name, your mother's maiden name, everything. That was the time you found me crying, darling ... It's better I tell you now, rather than you finding out by accident somehow later – I'm that mother you hate so much, darling, the one that ran off and left you ...'

I rolled onto my back and stared at the ceiling, trying to take in what she had told me – it was as if the roof had fallen in, and my cock shrivelled to nothing.

'It broke my heart leaving you, darling, but I felt it would be best, and I was right. You know the life I've been living, and I couldn't possibly have put you through all that. But I never stopped loving you – and if you'd tried to fuck me, I'd have let you ...'

She took a deep breath. 'There – I've told you. I'll leave tonight, darling. I've slept rough before, and I'll have to get used to doing it again. I'll find that bloke who'll let me share his sleeping bag in exchange for a fuck, and come back tomorrow for those things you bought me, if you still want me to have them – but I'd like to keep this,' she said, fingering the coin dangling between her breasts. 'It – it means so much to me ...'

She started to get off the bed, but I grabbed her wrist and pulled her back. She half sprawled on top of me, her breasts flattened on my chest, and looked at me apprehensively.

'You silly bitch!' I said. 'You left me once – do you think I'm going to let you walk out on me again?'

I kissed her roughly, and when we broke apart her eyes were again filled with tears.

'Now, get me hard again – you know I always wanted to fuck my mother!'

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