It wasn't the boy so much as the place. Not the body, but where he worked. Not the cock specifically, but the dirt, and dust, and the lack of finery.

It's not as though I didn't have other options.

Mother had taken me aside early in the piece and explained extraordinarily bluntly what was, and wasn't acceptable. In short, it was this: Don't get caught. In two ways. Don't let anyone see you, unless they are directly involved, and don't get pregnant, unless you are going to get married to someone, very, very fast.

She went on to explain that there was a family history of high interest levels where the act was concerned, and that her mother had a similar conversation with her. She made it apparent that there were two sets of rules. One set for outsiders, all of whom thought we were very proper ladies. We were in public, in formal settings, with our husbands and families. Another set was for behind closed doors, for occasions which we could later deny ever happened if necessary.

It was an aberration on my part though, to prefer the stable doors to those of the house, and the dirty stable-boys to the gentlemen who seemed to flock to our estate for various quite legitimate reasons.

The first time, I was, as you might expect, somewhat nervous. Mother had discussed this with me also, with a plainness that was not at all the norm, even for her, and had told me all I needed to know about how to act, about how to indicate an interest, about how to lure my conquest to the point where he thought he was taking control. If he thought he was in charge, Mother stressed, he was much less likely to talk afterwards, at least to anyone of importance. Mother shocked me by discussing other matters such as dalliance with other girls, and activities for one who is alone, but that's a whole different story.

She warned me that no matter my level of interest, the first episode was unlikely to be ideal, and that I should choose someone experienced in the love arts as a partner, in order to receive tuition, so to speak. I disappointed her there. Jacob was as inexperienced as myself, and ill-informed as well.

In fact I did nothing to plan the encounter, took no precautions to prevent detection, and worst of all, completely forgot Mothers instruction with regard to appropriate times in my cycle to avoid becoming with child. Indeed, the entire episode was impromptu, improvised, and, well, glorious.

I had been riding with my sister that morning. Steady rain had kept us and our horses indoors for a few days, and the mounts weren't exactly manageable. We were attempting to keep them together, and had practised a few jumps in the field behind the house, but her horse seemed uninterested in physical activity, whereas Luther and I were wanting to extend ourselves, and use up some of the pent up energy. I guess that was my downfall, but not right then.

My sister gave up in disgust eventually, and headed back to the stables, promising to get someone else to exercise the horse while she took a bath. Luther and I headed for the hills, separating ourselves from the house as quickly as possible, my excitement spurring him somehow, until the wind was blowing through my hair, and I realised that I wasn't really dressed for this sort of ride, with the cold wind whipping through me.

I slowed Luther to a trot, and turned him back toward a stand of trees behind the work-sheds, intending to get out of the wind as soon as I could, but by the time we reached the trees, I realised that I needed to get back to the stables, get out of these riding clothes, and get warm.

Once I arrived at the stables, it was apparent that my sister had disappeared for what now seemed a very appropriate hot bath, and my thoughts were on offloading Luther to the staff, and joining her in the large tub. We'd taken to sharing a bath of late, after a hiatus of a few years, and we discussed boys mostly, ignoring the mutters from the servants supplying hot water, flicking bubbles at each other.

No one was around in the stable to assist my dismount from Luther, and I was at first annoyed, and called out loudly to raise some assistance. Just as I had given up, and was climbing down from the horse alone, Jacob, one of the stable hands, came tearing in the door, a bucket in each hand, a worried look on his face. As he covered the space between the doorway and Luther, his eyes on me, he tripped over a wayward rope, and crashed to the dirt floor. Both buckets tore themselves from his hands, and flew through the air, throwing liquid in all directions, though one bucket seemed to have aimed itself rather well, and I was instantly drenched to the skin.

I acted without thinking. Turning on the terrified Jacob, I questioned his intelligence, his devotion, his family history (about which I knew a thing or two, I might add) and his ability to walk in a straight line. As this invective flew from my mouth, he turned and ran to get me a blanket, and I started tearing off the soaking cold clothes. Before I stopped to think, I was standing there in my undergarments, my proper clothing in a sodden heap on the dirt, and Jacob had returned with a clean but rough rug. He was staring and speechless, wondering how he was supposed to deal with the young mistress half naked in his stable.

My anger began to drain, perhaps removed along with the clothing, and I realised I had an opportunity here. Forgetting modesty, or care, I turned away from Jacob, carefully unlaced the remainder of my clothing, and threw it to the ground. As I grabbed the blanket from the shocked boy, I smiled at him. Suddenly I realised that he was soaking wet too, and wearing much thinner clothing that I had been. He must have been freezing.

Summoning the imperious tone of command that Mother had taught me, I spoke with him sternly, giving him little choice but to obey. "Take them off, Jacob. Then come over here."

"But Miss Lucinda..."

"Hurry up Jacob, before you freeze."

He did. I was weirdly proud of myself. He stood there and removed his peasant clothing, right down to his shorts. He hesitated then.

"Mistress, I'll get in serious trouble."

"Don't be ridiculous. Get them off!"

"Yes, Miss."

I was a little stunned when he did. I had never seen a naked man before, and even though Jacob was young, he didn't lack for anything under those pants, and the rest of him was nothing to sneeze at either. Summoning the rest of my rapidly diminishing courage, I opened the prickly blanket, and dragged him into it, and pressed his cold body to mine, wrapping us both tightly together, our faces close, our bodies touching in various places as yet unfamiliar to me.

Jacob still wasn't saying anything, but he wasn't trying to get away either. I had noticed some indication of his interest prior to wrapping him in the blanket, and I was fairly sure I could feel the same interest pressing against me now. His hands were held flat against my lower back, and things were warming up in the blanket, fast.

"Jacob, do you want me to let you go?"

"Ahhh ... no, Miss."

"Lucy. You can't call me Miss like this."

"Yes, Miss ... Lucy. It's Jake, Miss. No one calls me Jacob, except you and Miss Beatrice."

"It's a deal, Jake, so long as you call me Lucy. Just for now, mind. Not in public."

"Absolutely not, ... Lucy."

"Listen, standing here is nice, but is there anywhere..."

"The straw pile, Miss."

"Lucy."

"Lucy. The straw in the loft is clean, mostly. And soft."

"The loft then. You first." I held the blanket open briefly, and he shot away from me, his endowment pointing the way while I watched his bare posterior jiggle up the ladder to the loft, pleased with my somewhat impromptu choice.

As soon as he disappeared at the top of the steps, I whipped the blanket under one arm, and followed him. I thought briefly about the chance of someone coming into the stable and spotting me climbing the ladder, but realised that I didn't have a hope of coming up with reasonable explanation, so I'd best just hurry up.

Jake was right about the straw. A large pile of the stuff was thrown haphazardly in one corner, and it was compressed in the middle, which led me to believe that I wasn't the first girl to find herself up here with a stable-hand.

"Jake, have you been here before?" I asked, wrapping myself up again in the blanket as he stared at me.