“Thank fuck that’s over,” said James as we headed out of our final maths exam. It really was all over. Thirteen years of school had culminated in a question about the momentum of colliding billiard balls.
“You fancy a quick pint to celebrate?” I asked.
“Yeah, why not?” James replied. “Let me get my shit together and let’s get the fuck out of here!”
We grabbed our bags and coats, then headed to the School Office to hand in our locker keys and to say goodbye to the support staff.
The pub down the road from the school was pretty quiet when we arrived shortly before five. I hadn’t yet developed a taste for real ale, so ordered a pint of lager and I think James did the same.
“You up to anything tonight?” I asked.
“Not much,” he said. “Becky’s coming round.”
“She’s done too?” I asked.
“Yeah,” he replied, “Finished on Tuesday. What about you?”
“Just going home for a quiet evening with my parents,” I said. “I’m feeling pretty shattered to be honest – I need a good night’s sleep. Lauren’s going to pick me up with the car later.”
“Hey, there’s a group of us going clubbing in London tomorrow night, you should come too!” he said excitedly.
I hesitated. I was going away with Amy for the weekend; perhaps it was time to tell him about us.
“That would be cool,” I replied, “but actually I’ve got other plans this weekend. Look, there’s something I should tell you.” James looked a little shocked, as if I was about to reveal that I’d been diagnosed with a fatal disease.
“You alright?” he asked, concerned.
“N-n-no, it’s nothing bad,” I said scrambling to reassure him. “It’s just, I started going out with Amy this term and, well, we’re going away for the weekend, this weekend.”
“Woah, woah, woah! You and Amy? Amy Norton?” James said, astonished. So his mum had been true to her word, she hadn’t told him. “That is the right Amy?”
I nodded, blushing a little “Yeah, Amy Norton,” I confirmed. “Me and Amy.” I couldn’t stop myself smiling a little; ‘me and Amy’ had a nice ring to it – I don’t think I’d ever said it out loud before.
“Hey man congratulations!” he said patting me on the shoulder. He leaned forward, “Does anyone else know?” he asked quietly.
“Lauren does – she found out, but you’re the first person I’ve told,” I said. Strictly speaking this was true, my Mum had told my aunt, who in turn had told Lauren and she’d told Danny. James didn’t know that Lauren and Danny were an item and it wasn’t my place to reveal their news.
“We’re kinda keeping it private at the moment,” I explained. “I’d prefer it if you can keep quiet about it too, if that’s OK.”
“Of course,” he said. “Whatever you want.”
“Thanks,” I said.
“Hmm, you and Amy Norton,” he mused. “Didn’t see that one coming! Even during the play – I thought she might end up with Ritchie,” he rolled his eyes.
“Yeah, that’s why we’ve been keeping it quiet, especially with exams on,” I admitted.
“So when did you ask her out?” he pressed, “Or did she make the first move?”
“It was a kind of a weird mixture of both,” I said, feeling a little uncomfortable. “Actually it might have been earlier, but she thought I was going out with Lauren!”
“With Lauren?” he scoffed. “She didn’t know the two of you were cousins who live on the same farm?”
“Nope,” I said. “Don’t forget she only started at school with us two years ago. I think she just saw me and Lauren together a lot and assumed that we were a couple. It just never came up in conversation that we were blood relatives!”
“You and Lauren!” he laughed. “That’s the funniest thing I’ve heard in a long time.”
“And you and Becky? Still going strong?”
“Yeah,” he said, “really well. Really, really well! And the sex is amazing. That’s the great thing about Study Leave, no school and a house to yourself. We must have done twice as much fucking as revising! If hadn’t been for working with you at the library in the afternoons, we wouldn’t have got out of bed for most of it!
“Still,” he continued, “I’m sure you and Amy have taken advantage too!”
I blushed and said nothing, not wanting to reveal that Amy and I were still virgins and that we’d been so boring that we really had spent our Study Leave revising on her dining room table. We’d only had oral sex once and that was three weeks previously at the start of the Half Term holiday.
If he’d noticed my embarrassment, James ignored it. “Hey, Dad’s hired a limousine to take me and Becky and Rachel and Stijn to the Prom,” he continued. “Do you and Amy want to ride as well?”
“That sounds great. Let me ask her,” I replied. “I’ll let you know after the weekend. Would we have to come to you, or would you pick us up en route?”
“If you get yourself to Amy’s, we’ll pick you both up together, how about that?” James said.
“OK,” I said. “I’ll let you know.”
“Are you doing the whole corsage thing?” he asked.
“The what?” I replied.
“The corsage thing,” he repeated. “It’s like a bunch of flowers that girls wear round their wrists to Proms.”
“Around their wrists?” I asked. “Don’t they get in the way?”
James shrugged. “Sometimes they wear it pinned to their dresses,” he said. “But, I dunno, it depends what the dress is made of or something, the pins can damage the fabric, so they wear it on their wrists instead.”
“And I have to buy it for Amy?” I asked.
“Yeah,” James said. “The guys buy them for the girls. You’re supposed to wear a matching buttonhole.” He paused, “Do you know what dress she’s wearing?”
“Yeah, I think so,” I said. “Why?”
“So you’re supposed to choose a colour scheme that goes with the dress. Becky is very insistent on that.”
“Why doesn’t she choose it herself?” I asked, wary of the minefield ahead.
“Because she wants it to be a surprise,” James said. “Come on, you know what girls are like, they want to be surprised by something that they’ve known is coming for a long time!”
“This corsage business sounds like a trap devised by womankind to trip up innocent boyfriends,” I said.
“No, that’s the rest of our lives,” James replied wryly.
–
Amy’s mum had taken much persuading to allow her 18-year-old daughter to spend a weekend away with her boyfriend of only two months. Not only had the idea of a romantic city break abroad been vetoed point-blank, when she did agree to the back-up plan of two nights in Amy’s uncle’s holiday cottage, it came with a long list of conditions.
We would have to travel down to Dorset by train, as Jenny didn’t want me to drive Amy for such a long journey. This one was particularly restrictive, as we’d have to go up to London first, take the tube to Waterloo station, before taking another long train ride down to the south west. It would add an extra hour and a half to the journey at least.
Not only that, but the cottage was some distance from the railway station at the other end, around a five-mile walk along a fairly busy road with no bus service to speak of. We’d need to buy food for the weekend in the town and lugging the shopping and suitcases on foot was impractical – we’d have to take a cab.
In short, the cottage was an idyllic get-away-from-it-all retreat for an adult couple with a car, but for the two of us there’d be very little to do, unless we spent a fortune on taxis. It didn’t help that Amy had been completely swept up with the whole idea of a staying in a romantic bolthole, but to be fair, I was also looking forward to the opportunity to be alone with her for two days.
Although I’d accepted the ‘driving ban’ with good grace to her mum’s face, inside the cocky 18-year-old me was seething at the perceived slight.
“It’s not fair,” I moaned to my Mum. “We’re going to be in the middle of nowhere and the cottage doesn’t even have a television.”
Mum let me rant on for a few minutes, until I’d exhausted myself. (I suspected that she was secretly pleased as well that I wouldn’t be driving such a long distance.)
“Look Jake,” she said. “I agree with everything you say, and I know you’re offended at not being able to drive and I can see your point about there not being much to do when you get there, but try to see the bigger picture!”
“The bigger picture?”
“Yes,” Mum said. “I don’t know for sure, but this is probably Amy’s first holiday away without either her family or her school. I’m sure she’s really excited. And the bonus is she gets to go away with you. I’m sure she’d want to go away for the weekend even if you were camping in the middle of the sewage works – it doesn’t matter for her. But if you spend all of your time moaning, then it will ruin the magic. You’ve got to play the game here, this weekend is about having a good fun time on your own together.”
“We’d have more fun if we had a car,” I sulked.
Mum rolled her eyes. “I know you had grand visions of taking her up the Eiffel Tower and I know Dorset feels a long way from second best. But, if this goes well, then I’m sure you’ll get to take her to Paris or Venice or wherever come Christmas time. Think about this as a dress rehearsal. You want to be Romeo, but for your first school play in ten years you’re given Tybalt. But next time…”
“Next time, Ritchie Gasson will still be the leading man again, because he can lick the Director’s arse far better than I can!” I snapped back sarcastically. Reluctantly I could see that Mum had a point.
“You’re welcome to rant at me all you like, Jake. But promise me, you won’t be negative when you’re with Amy. You need to be sure she has a good time and if that means indulging her idea of an idyllic weekend, then so be it.”
“All right, I promise,” I said. Mum was right, she was always right.
–
The journey down to Dorset was uneventful, marked only by Amy’s insistence on taking selfies of the two of us at every conceivable point. She really was excited about going away together on our own and she chattered away happily. It seemed to be the first time that she’d taken a long-distance train journey – being squashed in the middle seat between her two step-brothers in the back of the car was her more usual mode of transport.
In contrast, I was fairly quiet, still tired from finishing my final maths exam the previous afternoon. But despite my misgivings about the location, I was also excited about going away with Amy, to finally have some of the privacy that we’d craved since we’d got together and to be able to spend time with each other without the risk of being interrupted by the various members of her family!
We arrived in Dorset around mid-afternoon. I’d booked a mini-cab to take us to the cottage for an hour after our train was due, to give us time to go to the supermarket and to allow for any delays en route. With time to kill, we decided to take a quick look around the town.
The town itself was pretty small, but had an interesting history, back over 1000 years to Saxon times. There was a little museum that Amy and I agreed we’d visit at some point and we spotted rowing boats available on the river to hire.
It took slightly longer than I was expecting to reach the cottage by taxi, partly because the driver missed the turning off the main road, but mainly because the mile-long single-track lane that led down to the cottage was rough and potholed. I made a mental note as we parked outside, to change the location of our pickup on the Sunday morning to the main road.
I’d seen a couple of photos of the outside of the cottage, so I knew already what to expect. There was a small, well-tended front garden and Amy had told me that her uncle paid a local couple to keep the place in good order. Knowing that the property wasn’t connected to the mains gas network, I was expecting the interior to be pretty basic and a little pokey, but I couldn’t have been more wrong.
“Wow, this is amazing!” I said as we opened the door.
The downstairs was open plan, with a kitchen area in the front, a dining area in the centre, then a more informal seating area to the rear with a couple of sofas. Beyond that a pair of French doors opened out onto a small patio with a wooden table and chairs. Clearly a fair amount of money had been spent on the place in the past year or so and the brand-new furnishings and kitchen equipment were of very high quality.
After placing the perishable food in the fridge and having filled the kettle, we raced up the stairs to explore further. There were two good-size bedrooms, the slightly larger one at the front (above the kitchen) had two twin beds and the one at the rear, which had a king-sized double, looked out over the patio and the fields beyond. I noted a large, free-standing, roll-top bath in the central bathroom, but there was no shower.
Leaving our suitcases in the double bedroom, we went downstairs. I made the tea, while Amy scouted around for the key to the French doors. Then we sat outside with our mugs, looking across the gently rolling fields.
“What time is our hack tomorrow?” Amy asked.
“We have to be at the stables at ten,” I replied. “The lady on the phone said they’d get us to ride around the field so that they can check our ability. Then the hack itself should start around ten thirty and we’ve got two hours riding out.”
It had been my idea to get us both on horseback. The relative isolation of the cottage meant that there were only two amenities within walking distance. The first was the riding school, which we could actually see from the house and the second was the local pub, where I was planning to take Amy for lunch. She’d be starting for Jackie as an employee at the Stables the following week and I thought that riding somewhere new and different would boost her confidence further. The other advantage was that I would get to see her wearing her tight jodhpurs and leather riding boots again – very much a sight for sore eyes!
Our tea drunk, we decided to head out to explore the neighbourhood (mostly fields of sheep and horses to the south and a large forest to the north) and to get our bearings more generally.
I’d borrowed the map of the local area from the town library and had been sketching a rough route on the train. There was a footpath behind the cottage which ran parallel to a small river, a similar size to the one back home on the farm. So taking each other’s hand we struck out, walking upstream to the woodland a mile or so from the cottage. We chatted away happily about our plans for the rest of the weekend and starting our jobs the following week.
“Oh, by the way,” I said casually, “I told James about us, last night.”
Amy turned her head towards me, giving me a piercing look. “Why did you do that?” she asked, there was a coldness in her voice that was new to me.
“Er, I, er thought with the Prom coming up and exams being over we should, er start telling people,” I stammered, taken by surprise by the sudden change in the tone of her voice. “And if Danny knew, I thought he should too.”
She stopped walking and pulled me back with my hand. I turned to her. She was angry with me; something I hadn’t seen before.
“Did you not think you should ask me before you told him?” her eyes flashed. In that instant, she reminded me so much of her mother.
“I, er, um, er, listen,” I said, “I’ve known James almost all my life, he’s not going to tell anyone. Don’t you think you’re overreacting a bit?”
That was the worst thing I could have said.
“No, Jake, I am not overreacting,” she snapped back. “This is our relationship, ours! That’s right there are two of us, you and me. If we’re going to start telling people, then we need to make that decision together. It’s not right for you to do that without me. I hardly know James, the only reason I know his name is because of the play.”
“I’m sorry,” I stammered sheepishly. “I’ve known James all my life – just like Danny. He knew, so I thought telling James would be OK.”
“Yes, but that’s different,” she replied, her voice becoming a fraction softer. “Lauren told Danny and I know that you didn’t tell Lauren.”
“Do you not think we should tell people?” I asked.
“Well actually, I was going to talk to you about that this weekend and for us to decide together. Yes, I do think now is probably the time. I do want to go to the Prom as a couple. But that’s not the point, we should have discussed it first.”
We started walking again, but there was a frosty silence between us. Our first disagreement.
“Amy,” I said in a small voice. “I’m really sorry, I didn’t think. I should have asked you. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
She turned to me and hugged me. “Oh Jake,” she sighed. “I love you and I know you didn’t mean to. Look, there’s no harm done and let’s forget about it. Now let’s get back to the cottage, because I have plans for you and your willie tonight!”
–
I was still in the doghouse when we got back to the cottage. No matter how hard the two of us tried to be jovial and to re-establish our usual teasing banter, the crystal perfection of our first two months together had received its first blemish. And it was my fault. Consideration for Amy’s opinions and feelings could not have been further from my mind when I’d told James about us; I’d ruined everything with my selfishness.
Perhaps it was a lesson that was long overdue; I’d been riding on cloud nine since the start of the year, ever since I’d opened the envelope containing my offer from Cambridge University. Getting my first girlfriend at Easter, after rescuing her from my nemesis, had elevated my own sense of self-importance and infallibility. Maybe that was part of the problem, I’d behaved as if Amy was another prize I’d won, another accolade that I could use as I pleased perhaps, and now my hubris had put that at risk.
What made it worse was the relative isolation of the cottage. The only two amenities within walking distance were the Riding School, which was shut by the time we’d arrived, and the village pub, and going there with Amy would very probably be more awkward than staying in the cottage.
The mood improved slightly over supper. I cooked, which should have helped me to take my mind off things, but I could feel Amy’s eyes burning into my back, even when she wasn’t in the room. Fortunately a couple of glasses of wine helped in taking the edge off things.
Unknown to me, Amy had brought her Mum’s old laptop, for us to watch a DVD after we’d eaten. It was a French rom com from at least a decade before, which I was convinced I was going to hate from the get-go, but actually enjoyed. But more importantly, it gave Amy an excuse to snuggle against me and for us to re-establish the bond of trust that I’d thoughtlessly weakened.
When the film finished, she led me upstairs by the hand to spend our first night together in a proper double bed. We undressed each other, then knelt facing each other in the centre of the bed, holding each other’s hands and interlacing our fingers. There was a calmness to the way we looked lovingly into each other’s eyes, undoubtedly helped by the alcohol we’d consumed.
I pulled her to me and we began to kiss – soft kisses, tender and light. Then she pushed me back down and, lying on her side, took my cock into her mouth as I gently stroked her hair.
“Amy?” I asked tentatively. “Can I kiss you? Please? I want to make you feel good as well.”
She looked up at me and nodded, her mouth still filled with my shaft. I lay down on my side, placing my head between her legs and gently kissed her mons. Then I blew lightly across her labia, before starting to cautiously lick the length of her slit. She shivered in pleasure at my touch and began to bob her head more rapidly, as if trying to race me to the finish.
Amy came twice in quick succession, squeezing my head forcefully between her thighs as she climaxed – perhaps that was my punishment for earlier. She pushed me off her, then lay beside me as she stroked me to orgasm.
We lay together in our afterglow as Amy played with the drying pools of semen on my chest. Then we drifted peacefully to sleep, secure once again in our love for each other.
–
“That was really good fun, this morning,” said Amy as the two of us tucked into Fish and Chips at the local pub.
We’d ridden out cross country for a couple of hours from the local Stables as part of a small group. I’d been really impressed with Amy’s riding ability – she was certainly a confident horsewoman and her core strength and poise belied her relative lack of experience. I, on the other hand, had found things a little harder going. Partly that was because I hadn’t actually ridden since Easter, but I blamed the fact that I grown so accustomed to the personality quirks of my own horse, that it had taken longer for me to adapt to the temperament of an unfamiliar mount.
“What do you want to do this afternoon?” I asked, feeling her legs in contact with mine under the table.
“My uncle said there are two bikes in the shed,” she replied, “so I thought we could go for ride.”
“Another ride?” I said. “OK, that sounds good. And after that?” I arched my eyebrow.
Amy cast her eyes around, checking that none of the other customers in the pub were listening in. “After that,” she said in a low voice, “I’m going to drag you upstairs to bed and make you cum all night!”
Crikey, I was shocked. She’d never been quite so forward, especially in a public place where we might be overheard.
“Only if I can do the same to you,” I stuttered back. Hardly a zinging response.
–
Amy cooked that evening – a simple bolognaise, her family’s quick, go-to meal if inspiration was lacking. We tried the game where two lovers eat the same piece of spaghetti from opposite ends to finish with a kiss in the centre, but our lips were too greasy for the passionate moment that we’d both hoped for.
After supper, we put the dirty crockery in the dishwasher and I set it running. Amy took out two clean glasses from the cupboard.
“Drink?” she asked, flashing a wicked smile at me, her eyes dancing with excitement. I knew what she wanted me to do.
She turned on the tap and began to fill the first glass. I stood behind her for a few seconds, admiring the curve of her pert butt, accentuated by the tight fabric of her jodhpurs. Then I stepped behind her, letting my fingers gently touch her left buttock.
She gasped at my touch, putting the filled glass down sharply.
My cock flared; I’d read the signs correctly.
I moved forwards, letting my hardening cock press between the cheeks of her bottom. Amy gasped again and gripped the overhang of the working surface.
“Fuck Amy,” I whispered into her ear. “I love you so much. You are so fucking sexy.”
I bent to kiss her neck.
“Oh, but Jake, I’m sweaty and smelly and I stink of horses!” she protested.
“Yeah and I love it!” I growled softly into her ear. “You’ve been torturing me all day, teasing me with this pert little bottom and your tight jodhpurs and your perfect breasts!”
She spun round, pushing me backwards a little.
“I’ve been torturing you Jacob Hardwick?” she asked in mock incredulity. “What about this?” she asked giving my bulge a sharp squeeze “and this?” she repeated as she moved both hands onto my butt, grabbing a cheek in each. “I’ve wanted to rip these off you, ever since you put them on this morning!” she growled.
She pulled me tightly to her, crushing her breasts and grinding her crotch against me. We kissed passionately, then broke apart panting.
“We should go upstairs,” I suggested, conscious that we were in almost full view of anyone walking down the lane.
She paused. “Actually, I was thinking we should have a bath,” she said.
“Oh,” I said, a note of disappointment in my voice. “Good idea. Tell you what, you go up first and when you’re done give me a shout and I’ll have one too.”
“No silly!” she smiled. “I meant have a bath together, at the same time.”
“Oh!” I said again, surprised and excited this time. I’d been trying, unsuccessfully, to persuade Amy to share a shower with me since we’d got together, but a bath would be even better.
“Let me go up and get ready,” she said, “and I’ll call you.” She grabbed my cock again, “And make sure this guy is primed for me!”
We kissed passionately and I felt my heart beginning to beat harder and faster in anticipation. She squeezed my butt again, then turned to scamper excitedly up the stairs. I heard the bathroom door open and the sound of water running.
I wandered over to the French doors and noticed that the bikes were still leaning against the wooden table on the patio, where we’d left them. I went outside and locked them away in the shed.
Amy was calling for me when I returned. I walked slowly up the stairs, stripping my polo shirt off as I went, imagining the sight of me appearing topless through a haze of steam would start things off the right way. Then I pushed open the bathroom door.
Amy was lying in the bath, almost obscured from view by the mountains of bubbles which rose from the water. The gentle scent of lavender hung in the air. The main light was off, but the one above the mirror was on and the room was also lit by about a dozen tealights placed on a small shelf on the wall next to the bath.
“Wow,” I said, “just wow. That looks amazing!”
“Are you not going to join me?” she asked seductively, lifting one of her legs clear of the water.
“Yes, of course,” I said, scrambling to take off my jodhpurs, almost slipping on the smooth tiles. I hopped around, losing all dignity as I removed my socks.
“I’ve never seen you wear white ones before,” Amy giggled, indicating my boxer briefs.
“I do when I’m wearing light-coloured trousers,” I explained, straightening up and hooking my thumbs under the waistband.
“No, let me,” she said, stopping me before I had a chance to pull them down. “Come here, let me do it!”
My cock was at full salute as I approached the bath, my glans poking through the waistband.
“I can see your willie!” Amy giggled. “He’s standing at attention for me.” She brought one of her hands out from under the water and stroked me through the fabric. “I like these,” she said, delighted that my cock was clearly visible through my now wet underwear. “You should wear them more often.”
I nodded my approval and she leant across to lick the very tip of my shaft, before pulling down my boxer briefs and exposing me in all my glory.
“Jake,” she gasped, “you are very fine indeed,” her eyes sweeping up and down my body. “So handsome and your willie is so exquisite!”
I let her rub the palms of her hands across my abs for a few seconds, trailing a few soap bubbles across my skin. Then she scooted forwards in the bath and I climbed in behind her, stretching out my legs either side of her torso. There was a small splash as she leant back against me.
Amy rested her head on my shoulder and closed her eyes, purring contentedly.
“I’ve been imagining this for so long,” she said. “Lying back against you in the bath, surrounded by bubbles, feeling your big hard willie against me and having you wash my back and my breasts. I feel like I’ve died and gone to heaven.”
She turned her head towards me and we kissed. A long, slow, sensuous kiss, our tongues entwining as I gently stroked her rock-hard nipples.
We lay like that for some considerable time until the water had cooled too much. Then we heaved ourselves out and dried each other off with our towels, trying not to slip on the wet, tiled floor. I took Amy’s hand and led her next door to the double bedroom.
We lay on the bed on our sides, facing each other as we kissed. I ran my fingers softly through her hair as she gently stroked my shoulders.
“Amy,” I said softly. “I hope you don’t mind, but I brought some massage oil. I thought maybe we could, er…”
Amy’s eyes flashed brightly with excitement. “Oh Jake,” she said, “yes I’d love to do that.”
I hopped off the bed and opened my suitcase, feeling a little self-conscious as my erection bobbed in front of me. I brought out the set of four oils that I’d bought online the previous week in an episode of severe procrastination.
“Which one would you like?” I asked, lying down next to her again and letting her smell each of the bottles in turn. “There’s jasmine, rosewater, citrus or lavender.”
“Ooh,” she said excitedly, “the Jasmine smells nice.”
“Jasmine it is,” I smiled, kneeling up beside her and preparing to open the bottle.
“Actually Jake,” she said, a little shyly. “I brought something as well. She got off the bed and went over to her own suitcase. I watched as she bent down, her delicate lips peeping out at me through the fine dark hair that covered her mons.
She straightened up and turned to hold out two black satin sashes, each maybe a metre long and ten centimetres wide or so. Did she want me to tie her up?
“I thought we could use these as blindfolds,” she said, seeing my confusion. “But we don’t have to use them if you don’t want to.”
I gasped. My girlfriend wanted to temporarily surrender her sense of sight to immerse herself in the pleasure that I would bring her. Wow – a declaration of total trust. This wasn’t the cautious Amy I thought I knew!
“Er, um, I’d love to,” I stuttered. “Are you sure you’re ready for this?”
“Jake, I love you,” she replied, looking me straight in the eye with a hint of defiant determination. “I want to do this.”
“Of course. Would you like me to tie it, or would you prefer to?” I asked.
She thought again for a second. “Could you do it?” she asked offering the sashes to me, “Please?”
She climbed back on the bed and turned the back of her head towards me. I fastened the ribbon over her eyes, gently yet securely. The material was pretty thin, and she’d be able to see through it fairly easily, but that wasn’t the point – it was the symbolism that mattered. She lay down on the bed on her front.
I knelt beside her and brushed her hair clear of her neck, placing a series of light kisses across her shoulder blades. I held still for a few seconds as I drank in her perfect hourglass figure and the smooth curves of her hips and her butt.
I opened the bottle of jasmine oil and slowly poured some into the palm of my hand, letting it warm up a little before I drizzled it onto her upper back. Then I began to gently knead her soft skin, making small, light movements with my thumbs.
Amy murmured contentedly, “Ah Jake,” she sighed, “your hands, they’re so big, but so gentle. This is heavenly.”
I delicately massaged the base of her neck with my fingertips, then worked my way down her body, making broader, firmer strokes as I did so. Amy purred in contented appreciation. I skipped her butt and stepped off the bed behind her, sliding my hands up her lower legs. From my vantage point I could see her lips peeking through her downy hair, just beginning to glisten with her juices.
I knelt again on the bed, straddling her calves, and began to knead the backs of her thighs with my thumbs.
I felt Amy becoming tense again and she turned anxiously to me. “Jake,” she said, “please not inside me with that oil, just on my skin OK?”
I nodded, “it’s OK,” I replied gently, “just on your skin.”
I decided to leave off her legs and to return to her back and shoulders, so I scooted up her body again to kneel with my legs either side of her butt. Amy gasped as she felt my shaft resting on the cleft between her buttocks. Then I leant forward, so I was almost lying on top of her, keeping my hardness gently pressed against her bottom.
Amy groaned. “Oh Jake, that feels so good!”
“Yeah,” I whispered into her ear, “you like my big hard cock?”
She whimpered and nodded in agreement. I could see she had her eyes closed under her blindfold, immersed in the sensation.
I kissed her gently on the cheek and felt her grinding beneath me.
“Yeah, you like my big hard cock, don’t you Amy, don’t you?” I pressed again.
She nodded.
“You’ve been thinking about me all day, undressing me, feeling me, tasting me, haven’t you, haven’t you?” I growled softly.
Amy whimpered again and nodded.
I began to rock my hips gently, sliding my shaft along the channel between her buttocks.
“Does that feel good?” I teased huskily.
“Oh Jake,” she sighed, her voice trembling with pleasure. “I love you and I love your big willie! He’s so hard and so strong.”
“Does he turn you on?” I whispered. “Are you wet for him?”
She nodded again. I saw her snake her hand down, between her stomach and the bed. She began to grind more firmly, matching time with my thrusts as her moans become yelps.
“Tell me how it feels,” I whispered, rocking against her more forcefully. “Tell me how I’m turning you on.” More kisses on her shoulders and on the back of her neck; I was breathing heavily now as her cries drove me on. My cock was squeezed tightly between my abs and her butt and I felt my own orgasm approaching too.
“I’m feeling how wet I am for you,” she panted hoarsely. “I’m so wet for you. I’m feeling you rubbing against me and I’m thinking how I’d kiss you into me and how I’d feel how hard you were inside me, and then my breasts against your amazing chest, and then, and then…”
She arched her back, pushing against me as the waves of pleasure overtook her. I roared and shot volley after volley of cum across her shoulder blades as she shuddered in ecstasy.
I collapsed on top of her, panting, as the two of us fought to recover our breaths.
I pushed myself up a little on my arms and looked down at Amy. A large pool of my spunk had collected in the hollow of her lower back. I felt a little uncomfortable. I’d never imagined cumming on her back – it felt a little dirty, a little sordid, like a pay-per-view online porno.
“I’m sorry,” I said apologetically, a little ashamed perhaps, “I had no idea I’d cum so quickly.”
“Oh Jake,” she said. “That was amazing, that was the best yet. It felt like I was on rocket being shot up to the stars.” She shuddered as an aftershock rippled through her.
I kissed her gently on the cheek and she turned her head so her lips met mine.
“Oh Jake, it feels so good to be lying here with you on top of me,” she murmured. “I feel so safe and secure wrapped up in you.”
We were still for some considerable time, then I rolled off Amy and lay on my back beside her. She propped herself up on her forearms and took off her blindfold. Then she moved across to kiss me on the lips, her eyes shining with excitement.
“Are you ready for Round Two?” she asked mischievously.
“Round Two?” I asked, unsure where she was summoning the energy from.
“Yes, I need to massage you and then, well, let’s see.”
“OK,” I said. “We might need to clean up quickly first. I’ve cum everywhere.”
“I know and it’s lovely! I can feel your guys with their whippy tails, tickling me all over,” she giggled. “Wait here.”
Amy sprang off the bed and darted out to the bathroom, returning seconds later with a damp facecloth. She held it out to me, turning to let me gently wipe the dried lake of semen from her back. Then she took the cloth from me and lovingly sponged my torso, before pulling down my foreskin to remove any trace of my eruption.
Amy giggled. “He’s all clean and ready for me again!”
She kissed me again on my lips as she gently held my cock in her fingers.
“Can you turn over for me please Jake?” she whispered.
I obliged and lay on my front, holding my head up a little, so that she could tie the satin ribbon across my eyes. I surrendered myself to the sensation as Amy began to pour the jasmine oil onto my back and to rub it across my shoulders with her elegant fingers. The scent swirled around me, and I relaxed into a dreamlike state as she worked down to my lower back.
“Ooh” she giggled. “I can see your balls!”
“Best not to touch them with the oil,” I murmured. “Just in case.”
Amy skipped down to my legs and began to massage my thighs.
“Oh Jake,” she gasped in wonder. “Your legs, your muscles are so big. You’re so strong.”
I looked down at her a little confused; most of the rugby players at school had much bigger thigh muscles and a far stockier build than me.
Having finished massaging my legs to her satisfaction, Amy began to crawl up my body again, letting her breasts trail over my buttocks and my lower back. Then she lay down on top of me, resting her cheek on my right shoulder blade.
“Oh Jake,” she sighed. “I’ve always wanted to do this, to lie on your back like this. Feeling my breasts on you.” She shuddered and ground her mound against me. “I don’t know why, but it turns me on so much.”
“It’s really nice for me too,” I said, “you feel so soft and tender.”
“And your shoulders are so firm, and your muscles, ooohh,” she sighed. “I am a very lucky girl, Jacob Hardwick, a very lucky girl indeed!”
Amy bucked her hips rapidly, growling as her hormone-fuelled instincts bubbled to the surface.
“Right Jake,” she said decisively. “I need to get back to work.” She sat back on my buttocks and then stood, feet astride my hips. “Turn over!” she commanded.
I turned over and looked up at her. I was still wearing the blindfold, but the material was so thin, I could see her easily. But she knew that, earlier she’d worn the same black ribbon around her eyes.
Amy towered above me like a triumphant Amazon warrior. I lay on the bed, drinking in the sight of her body: the delicate features of her face, surrounded by her dark, curly hair which hung loose down to her shoulders; then her small pert breasts with their dark nipples, proudly erect in her arousal; the sweep of her hips around her flat stomach, where her own muscles, strengthened by the horse riding, were beginning to show through; and in the centre of it all, her neat triangle of fine, dark hairs framing her delicate lips, open like a flower, glistening with her nectar.
I gasped, overcome by love and lust, unable to speak.
She began to make slow circles across her mons with the flat of her hand. She was masturbating, over me.
And I lay under her, blindfolded, passive, in awe, willingly dominated, like a captive from an enemy tribe; she knew that I knew, and that made her even more powerful.
I was in two minds: on the one hand, Amy standing above me, naked and rubbing her sex, brought back the feel of a sordid internet porn video – there was an awkwardness and an absurdity attempting to nag at me as I lay beneath her – as the male of the species I would never have dreamt of wanking off over her in the same way; but on the other hand, the privileged view of Amy proud and confident in her nakedness, celebrating her arousal, turned me on like nothing before.
I thought back a month or so, to the previous time I’d felt so conflicted, when we’d watched from the hayloft as my cousin gave my best friend a blowjob in the barn below – exciting and repellent at the same time. No, that was an image I needed to banish from my mind.
I ran my hands up the back of my girlfriend’s calves, feeling the smooth skin of her legs. I decided to play along.
“Fuck Amy,” I gasped, “you like that? You like how I turn you on?”
She nodded, looking straight at my blindfolded eyes.
“Tell me what you like,” I persisted, “tell me how you want to touch me.”
“Oh Jake,” she sighed, increasing the pace of her circles. “I love your hair and I love your lips and I love your chest and your muscles. I want you so badly, I really do.”
“Yeah, yeah,” I urged, “and tell me what you want to do to me.”
“I want to kiss you,” she gasped breathlessly, “I want to kiss your lips and to run my fingers through your hair and I want to feel your chest against my breasts and, and…”
I reached up to hook my fingers behind her knees, then I pulled, gently but firmly. She knelt down, then tumbled forwards, bringing her lips to mine and assaulting my mouth with hers in a passionate frenzy. My cock jumped, trapped under her left thigh, my tip mere centimetres from her sex. I could feel the warmth of her core against my hip.
Amy ripped off my blindfold, and began to kiss down my chest. She swirled her tongue around my nipples, taking each one in her mouth and giving a gently nip with her teeth. Then she slipped lower and my weapon instinctively found the valley between her breasts; she gasped as she felt my hardness glide up between them. She placed a hand on each of her firm globes, pushing them together, to encase my erection, then began to cautiously slide back and forth along my length.
“Oohh Jake,” she sighed. “Your willie feels so good, he’s so big and strong and…” She shuddered as a wave of pleasure swept through her.
“Ah Jake,” she gasped, fighting for breath, “I have to have you, now!” and with that she sat up again, legs astride my hips, placing her lips so that they could rub along the base of my cock. She grasped my erection firmly in her right hand and began to stroke me. She stared unblinkingly into my eyes, her jaw set with determination, all that mattered to her was the climax to come.
I reached up and cupped her breasts with my hands, pinching her nipples firmly between my fingers, just enough to cause her a little pain. She threw her head back and screamed in pleasure. I pushed my hips upwards, trying to increase the pressure on her sex as she worked me.
“You like that, you like that Amy?” I shouted. “You like my big hard cock against you?”
“Yeah Jake, I love it, I love your big hard cock,” she cried.
“You gonna cum for me? You gonna cum?” I hollered.
“Yeah Jake,” she shrieked, “I gonna cum for you, I’m gonna fucking cum for you.”
“Fuck!” I roared, as my cock exploded and strings of cum flew across my chest and abs.
Amy screamed, consumed by her own orgasm, shuddering and shaking as she bucked her hips against the base of my shaft. Then she collapsed on top of me, her energy spent.
–
We lay together, exhausted and I held her as she snuggled against me.
“Jake?” she murmured.
“Yes?” I replied.
“That was really amazing, I really liked that,” she said softly.
“That was amazing for me too,” I said.
“Jake, can I say something to you?” she asked.
A shiver of fear ran through me.
“Er, yes, of course,” I replied nervously.
“Jake,” she said calmly, “I love you very much, I really do. The last two months have been amazing, they really have. And you’ve been so kind and caring and a real gentleman all the way through.” She reached up to kiss me on the cheek.
She paused. I sensed there was a ‘but’ coming. I tensed a little in anticipation, not really wanting her to continue.
“But sometimes,” she said, “I think you can be a bit too supportive, if that makes sense. You spend so much energy looking after me, it can be a bit difficult for me to support you. Sometimes I feel that you don’t want to let me. And I want to be a good girlfriend to you, to have a really strong relationship that’s built on the two of us doing things for each other and helping each other. That’s why I wanted us to cum together tonight, I wanted it to be fair, to be better for the both of us.”
I was a little floored. I hadn’t expected Amy be thinking this at all. My first reaction was to kick back and to feel a little offended by what she’d said, but in my heart I knew she was right. Perhaps things had been a little unequal up to that point.
“You’re an amazing guy, Jake, you really are. You’re so strong and resilient and independent, and that’s why so many people respect you and you have so many friends. But I’m not just your friend, I’m your girlfriend and the relationship we have is different from what you have with Danny, James, Lauren, all of them.
Amy paused, “I’m not explaining this very well,” she apologised, “But I really love you and I want us to be together, not just for the summer, but for a long time to come. You’ve been so wonderful to me with exams and the Ritchie business, but now it’s time to shift the balance a little and let me support you as much as you support me.”
We lay together for a minute or so in silence as I gently stroked her arm.
“Please Jake,” she said anxiously. “Say something please.”
“I was just thinking,” I said. “No, you’re right. Maybe I haven’t let you into my life as much as you’ve let me into yours. I’m sorry, I just really love you and I can’t help loving you and wanting to look after you.”
“And I love you too,” Amy replied. “I really do. You are amazing and what we have is really fantastic, but I think it could be even better, even more amazing. And I’m so excited for the summer and for everything we have planned and then hopefully going away with you properly before we go to university.”
“Oh Amy,” I said, “I’m sorry.”
“No Jake, don’t apologise” she said gently. “It’s been so magical and I love you. And as for your willie…”
–
The sky was turning grey as we boarded the train to take us home and a chilly breeze was springing up. By that stage I was getting a little irritated with Amy, although I was trying desperately not to show it. The morning had started promisingly enough and we’d got up fairly early to have breakfast and to make sure that the cottage was ship-shape before we departed.
The problems had started when, instead of helping to strip the sheets off the bed, Amy had insisted on giving me a handjob to even up the orgasm count between us. I’d taken a long time to cum, not least because I was worried about getting to the taxi. We did make it in time, but piled into the cab in a sweaty heap, having run the final quarter of a mile.
Once we’d made it back to town, we hired a rowing boat on the river for a couple of hours then had lunch in a local café, which should have given us plenty of time to catch our early afternoon train. With about half an hour to go, Amy announced that she wanted to have a ‘quick look round the shops’ and again, we’d made it to the station with about thirty seconds to spare.
As the train sped back towards London, Amy rattled off the parts of the weekend that she’d enjoyed the most (virtually all of it), although she thoughtfully spared our fellow passengers any detailed description of our sexual activity. Then she got her phone out and insisted on showing me all the photos she’d taken, most of which I’d already seen.
I’m making it sound like I was in a bad mood for the entire journey home, but I wasn’t. Amy could be very charming and amusing as she chattered away and she’d clearly had fun with me on our first weekend away together. And that made me happy. Plus I’d got a blowjob, a massage and a handjob as part of the package. What’s not to like!
Finally Amy paused for breath and I took advantage of the split-second of silence to ask a question.
“I’ve been meaning to say,” I began, “James’ dad has hired a limousine to take him and Becky and a few others to the Prom. He wondered if we wanted to come along too. Or if you prefer, we can just go together?”
Amy looked up at me, “Yes,” she said, “that sounds exciting, if that’s OK with you? How would it work? Do we need to go to James’ house first, or would the limo pick us up en route?”
“I’m not actually sure,” I admitted. “But I think the idea is that I would come to your house first and then the limo would pick us up from there. I’ll need to ask about the timings.”
“So will you leave your car at my house overnight?” she asked.
I shook my head. “Lauren’s going with Danny, so she’ll drop me off at your house first and will drive on to his. But that could all change. You know what things like this are like.”
Amy nodded. “Yes, that sounds good. I was going to ask Mum or Rob to take us, but I’m sure they’ll be happy for us to go with the others.”
“Oh and one other thing,” I said rolling my eyes slightly. “Apparently I need to get a corsage to give you to wear that matches my buttonhole. I’m supposed to subtly ask you whether you’d prefer one to wear on your wrist or pinned to your dress.”
“But as you’re incapable of being subtle, you’re going to come straight out and ask me instead?” she teased.
“Something like that,” I mumbled.
“Well you’ve already seen my dress,” she gave me a knowing look. “And as you know the fabric is quite delicate, so I’d prefer one to wear around my wrist, so I don’t have to pin it on.”
I nodded. “OK and what about flowers and colours?”
Amy thought for a second, and was about to speak again when she changed her mind and checked herself. “Surprise me,” she said. “It’ll give me something to look forward to this week.”
“You know how to put pressure on a guy,” I teased.
“I like making you work!” she replied.
–
We changed trains for the final leg of our journey home. Amy lay back against me and closed her eyes.
My thoughts drifted back to what she’d said the previous night: The hot-headed teenager in me was insulted, angry even, wanting to write Amy off as an ungrateful bitch with no right to criticise me of all people, especially after I’d rescued her from Ritchie; the little boy in me was confused and saddened by the personal criticism from someone I loved and was fearful that she might be about to break up with me; the adult in me conceded that she had a point, that things had been a little uneven, but was unsure how to fix things. Right now, all three were fighting hard inside my brain and I was finding it hard to disentangle my emotional and rational responses.
I thought about the time that we’d just enjoyed together. Amy had asked her uncle about using the cottage and had sorted out the key, but beyond that I’d done everything else – buying the train tickets, arranging the taxi, booking the hack at the Riding School, getting the map out of the library. Maybe that was the problem – in my efforts to be the perfect gentleman, I’d marched in and taken control of the weekend. And the stupid thing was that Amy had finished her exams a full three days before me – she’d had far more time than me to sort things out.
I took a deep breath, recalling the way I’d cum the previous two nights: On the Friday we’d sixty-nined each other and she’d cum twice before she stroked me to my own orgasm. Then on the Saturday, we’d climaxed together – twice; Amy had been right – cumming together was far better. When we worked together we were sensational, but when I tried, with the best of intentions, to take onerous tasks from her shoulders, I ended up suffocating her – I wouldn’t let her put her personal stamp on things, to take the ownership of our activities as she wanted. I was such a fucking idiot.
I thought back to the close friendships in my life – to the Danny-James-Jake ‘triple act’ – the Joker, the Brawn and the Brains – a camaraderie honed since we’d started school at the age of four or five. Why did it work so well? You’d never be able to fully explain it, but maybe that sense of trust and our willingness to make fools of ourselves, as we shared each other’s company, lay at the heart of it.
And Lauren, the cousin I thought of as my sister: The sadness that I felt inside that she hadn’t been able to tell me all term about her relationship with Danny; the fraternal love that I’d felt for her as we’d grown up together; the bemused irritation at the way I’d let her wrap me round her little finger far too often. Certainly Lauren had been a far bigger influence over me over the past two months than Amy had – at times she’d controlled and manipulated me – certainly that had to change for the holidays ahead.
And I thought about one other person – Roger, the family friend whom I’d shadowed as he visited local farms to treat sick and injured animals. The person who, when I’d announced at the tender age of fifteen that I wanted to be a vet, had gently challenged me over my predicted GCSE grades and had given me the determination to improve my academic standing, setting me on a path that would lead me to Cambridge University. He hadn’t shied away from telling me something I didn’t want to hear, and for that I was grateful.
And so back to Amy. It was true, we were in something of a rut. That was partly circumstantial – we’d settled into a rhythm of seeing each other at certain times and on certain days, to accommodate our school work and exams, and since I could drive and she couldn’t, it was far easier for me to visit her home, rather than for her to come out to the farm. But that was no excuse for the misplaced ideal of medieval chivalry that I’d been striving for in our relationship.
Now things would be reversed for the Summer Holidays – being up at the Campsite and no school meant that my trips north to the town would be significantly less frequent, whereas Amy would be travelling south by train every day to the village to work at the Stables. She’d also been having more driving lessons during Study Leave and had another test booked in for early August. We had a chance for a fresh start.
Surely, I was grateful that she’d had had the confidence to talk to me, that she felt secure enough in our relationship to discuss something that wasn’t quite right? That wasn’t a sign of impending doom, or a first warning on a path to breaking up, that was a commitment to improve something good that we both hoped would be long-lasting.
I glanced out the window; we were nearing our town, maybe only two or three minutes away. I shook Amy awake. She’d need to get off at the next station, but I was going one stop further to the village where Mum would meet me off the train.
“Amy, we’re nearly there,” I said.
She yawned and turned to me as I kissed her forehead.
“Thank you for a really lovely weekend,” I said sincerely. And thank you for what you said last night,” I looked deep into her eyes. “I love you, I really do!”
“I love you too Jake,” she said. “And I’m so looking forward to the Prom!”
We kissed tenderly, then I stood and reached for her bag in the rack above our heads. Her phone buzzed on the table; someone was calling her. I glanced down at the screen.
‘Ritchie’
My stomach lurched, but I calmly lifted the bag down. Amy hadn’t noticed that I’d seen his name.
She swiped across to reject the call, then smiled up at me as I placed her bag on the seat beside her.
“It’s my mum,” she lied, “she’s waiting to pick me up.