I endured the maddening arousal all the way around the edges of the grounds, trying as hard as I could not to rub myself against the saddle, but my seat made it inevitable that certain kinds of friction were experienced and somewhere near the lake I lost control and clutched at the reins, whimpering.
Jasper, who had been recounting a long story about learning to ride for a swashbuckling movie he filmed in the forests of Slovakia, stopped in mid-sentence and watched me, smiling widely.
‘Poor thing,’ he said. ‘You’ve really lost control of yourself, haven’t you? I think we’ll need a few more training sessions this week.’
‘I’m sorry, Sir,’ I wailed, not wanting to go back to lying on my back with my legs spread in the air while Jasper used all kinds of vibrating and stimulating toys on me, withholding permission to come until the very last.
‘I’m sure you are,’ he said. ‘OK, shuffle right forward. I’m going to get on behind you.’
I leaned right down, hanging on to the reins for dear life, while Jasper mounted at my rear. He pulled the reins tighter, dug in his heels and the horse set off at a pace I hadn’t expected.
‘Oh, God!’ I jolted up and down, feeling every movement right down inside me.
Jasper had the horse canter all the way back to the stables, making me bump up and down and squeal with breathless fear.
I had never been more thankful to end a journey in my life. I was saddle-sore now, as well as whip-sore, and my jodhpurs felt like a horrible kind of heated second skin. My clit was raw and swollen from all the friction, and sweat trickled down the back of my neck.
Jasper took me back to the house and bathed me, then I was allowed to lie on my stomach on his bed while he fed me cold cuts and salad and fruit before rubbing heavenly cool lotion on to my still pulsing welts.
‘I enjoyed that,’ he said, a little unnecessarily, coming to lie beside me. ‘Perhaps we should go riding more often.’
‘I’m not sure I could cope with that every day,’ I cautioned him.
‘No, not every day,’ he agreed. ‘But next time I’d use a butt plug on you. I bet that’d be an interesting experience on horseback.’
I winced at the thought. We hadn’t done butt plugs yet, but I was pretty sure that the day was close.
‘Yes,’ he said, after a moment’s thought. ‘I think butt plugs come next. Tomorrow. How do you feel about that?’
‘How am I supposed to feel?’
‘Apprehensive? Excited? Turned on?’
‘That’s how I feel all the time now.’
‘Same here, Sarah. Same here.’
The sun went in, the week after that, but the ground was still warm and the air still just this side of overripe on the day we made the film.
He promised me nobody would ever see it but, as we crossed towards the wood, him with camera and tripod, me carrying the box of props, I still had a few reservations.
‘Are you sure nobody ever comes down here? Dog walkers? Poachers? Lost hikers?’ Again I thought about telling him about Will, and again I chickened out.
‘I’ve never seen or heard a soul,’ he said. ‘A few birds might witness your shame, but that’s about it.’
‘What are you going to do to me?’
‘I’m not telling you. I want your reactions to be natural.’
We arrived in the glade and he started setting up. I put down my box and wandered around, peering between each tree, checking for telltale signs of hidden voyeurs.
I was still thus engaged when he called me back over.
‘Right,’ he said, holding the camera up to his eye. ‘I want you to strip. You aren’t wearing much so it won’t take long.’
I grimaced and looked off to the side again, then pulled my T-shirt over my head, revealing my perennially bra-less breasts.
‘Play with them,’ he said. ‘Touch your nipples.’