This is my first ever attempt to write about the sexual experiences of my early life. Names of the people and places in this story have been changed to protect the innocent (and some not so innocent).

I grew up in England in a traditional, but fairly wealthy family living in a very prosperous leafy outer suburb south west of London. Sex was never discussed in our family, but I suppose my parents must have done it at least once. But the very beginnings of my sexual awakening were on my fourth birthday when my parents gave me a pony of my very own to learn to ride.

Right from my first lessons, I remember how I really loved the feeling that I got from being in the saddle. You couldn t say it was sexual – – I didn t have a clue what sex was – – but it was a distinctly physical pleasure that I felt, which made me want to go riding again and again and feel disappointed whenever I had to stop. The pleasure definitely centred around having something moving between my legs and I remember how, when I couldn t go out to ride, I would straddle the arm of one of the big padded armchairs in our drawing room and ride it, rubbing myself back and forth on the arm of the chair and enjoying the sensation for as long as I could. Unfortunately, my mother walked in on me one day in the middle of one of my armchair rides and made it very clear that the furniture was not to be used in that way, so I had to start being more secretive about my "rides", only doing it on a pile of pillows in my bedroom, or when my parents were out.

In later years I ve read other women s opinions on horse riding in which they deny that there is any sexual feeling involved in it. All I can say is that either they are in denial about their own feelings, or they are built very differently than me. While I have never had an orgasm while riding (it would be pretty dangerous to lose control that high off the ground) the constant pressure and movement on my pussy have always given me deep pleasure of a kind that nothing else can.

I was a fairly dumpy little girl, definitely not one of the pretty ones, and I didn t have many friends or any boys chasing me, so the sensations I got from my riding were my one great source of pleasure. I spent as much time as I could on my horse, and when I couldn t ride I tried to duplicate the sensation by secretly rubbing myself against the furniture. I knew it was naughty, but that was part of the fun. Whenever I felt lonely or sad or bored I would go to my room, lock the door and enjoy a "ride".

As I got older, the sensations I got from riding seemed to become stronger and to have more of a physical effect on me. I would come back from riding feeling hot and sweaty and very excited. As soon as I got home, I would use the excuse of needing a shower to go to the bathroom and get undressed. With the door locked, I dared to get naked and look at my own body in the mirror as I "rode" the edge of the bathtub to prolong a secret pleasure I still didn t really understand. I loved how naughty and exciting it was to see myself nude and enjoy the sensations that it brought to rub my mound against things. After doing it for as long as I dared, I would shower and shiver in delight at the touch of the water on my naked body.

By the time I was 8 or 9, I started to find that after I had been riding for a while my panties would definitely feel wet. I didn t know why, or where it was coming from. I sort of assumed that I had peed my panties a bit without knowing it and I felt ashamed and tried to hide it. I don t think anyone else had ever noticed it until one day I returned to the stables after a long ride. I had been rising to the trot, which made the horn of the saddle rub against me even more vigorously than usual and I guess the sensations had really stimulated me. Only Lydia was around that day, one of the older girls who rode there, who was maybe 14 or 15 years old. She was in the tack room putting things away and she stared at me curiously as I walked in. Following her gaze, I looked down and realised that there was a visible damp patch at my crotch. I blushed a deep red and mumbled that I had accidentally wet myself.

Lydia came closer and smiled at me sympathetically.

"It s all right, Christine", she said, "I have sometimes had an accident too when I m riding".

She went to her backpack that was hanging on a hook nearby, and pulled out a small packet.

"Here. These are panty liners. " she told me "I think one will fix your problem, but you can keep the packet. When you re a big girl you ll need them more. You fix them in your panties like this. "

To my amazement, she pulled her riding breeches and panties down and showed me how the liner was fitted in there. I stared in amazement at her lack of shyness about me seeing her private parts. I noticed with curiosity that her pussy was hairy, unlike mine.

"Come on, now, " she said "Drop em and we ll pop this in".

She was so matter – of – fact about it that I forgot my embarrassment, took my panties down and allowed her to show me how to stick the panty liner into place. I held my breath watching her hand moving so close to my naked pussy and felt a brief shock as her finger accidentally brushed against me.

When it was over I felt so relieved that she had saved me from my embarrassment. Our little intimate secret meant that soon we became friends. It was nice to have an older girl who looked after me and I hung around her at the stables more and more as time went on. And I started to use the pads inside my panties every time I went riding.

(If you have got something out of reading my story please let me know and maybe I will tell more in a future chapter. )