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.
