Shower orgasms, golf carts, spread-eagled on the stairs – it’s the 10 best Rivals sex scenes so far

From naked tennis to Richter-scale juddering near wildfowl, Jilly Cooper’s bonkbuster features a whopping 33 romps. Ahead of season two’s return this week, gird your loins as we celebrate the busiest buttocks in Rutshire

Rejoice! Rejoice! Five months after it staggered off with its leotard around its ankles, Rivals has returned with six more bundles of ineffably filthy joy. Let perms be unconfined. What is Rivals about? Some say the bonkbuster is a fond take on the shoulder-padded excesses of the late 1980s. Others that this adaptation of the late Jilly Cooper’s Rutshire Chronicles is a flambéed critique of the era’s social and political mores, as the haves and have-somes fossick for glory among the cufflinks and consortiums of upper-class rural England.

And it is. But only slightly. Because what Rivals is really about is bums. Here a bum, there a bum, everywhere a bum bum. From the boisterous buttocks of the lower orders to the globular “cans” that besmirch the House of Lords, each of the series’ featured arses serves as a bouncing beacon of glee throughout Rivals’ many, many sex scenes. How many sex scenes? An astonishing 33 thus far, with the six new episodes promising more of the same, with clanging bells on.

But which of these sizzling set pieces have proved the most memorable? Let’s squat behind this unusually large saxophone and take a gander.

What better introduction to the MP for Chalford and Bisley than a closeup of his bum cheeks as they oscillate at 50,000ft to the “strains” of Robert Palmer’s Addicted to Love? “Gnnyarr,” says Rupert Campbell-Black (Alex Hassell), thrusting in the onboard loo as appreciative thrustee Beattie Johnson (Annabel Scholey) kneads his unleavened trouser-loaves. “Ooooh,” says everyone else, nodding contemplatively at what will become Rivals’ defining

“Stop talking about Margaret Thatcher,” pleads Charles Fairburn (Gary Lamont), his erection wilting as aspiring MP Gerald Middleton (Hubert Burton) expresses his glee at the results of the general election. A political debate ensues (“You’re throwing away – puff – all your principles to work for a party that’s – oof – taking away gay men’s rights!” “I’m going to change things FROM THE INSIDE!” etc). And verily, tumescence is regained, the happy event flanked by those twin signifiers of 80s decadence: a budgie and a dead cheese plant.

Perhaps the most “it’s 1987” romp in the Rivals love-canon, its desk-slamming theatrics accompanied by high heels, flammable workwear and a perm the size of Sizewell B. While “business bastard” Tony Baddingham (David Tennant) snarls in his Man at C&A vest, poutingly ambitious actor Maud O’Hara (Victoria Smurfit) proceeds to pound his torso as if it were an executive stress toy. Frankly, the only thing that could make the scene more 1987 is if Thatcher burst in and privatised his hole-punch.

To Málaga, where a TV awards ceremony finds Rupert in full “Una Paloma Blanca” mode: jodhpurs puddling around his ankles in a swanky hotel suite as he brings on-off squeeze/business rival Cameron Cook (Nafessa Williams) to an “Olé!”-heavy climax. Teeth gnash and norks swing but the focus is, as ever, on Rupert’s tireless buttocks – which jackhammer with such intensity they’re little more than a gluteal blur, like paté smeared across the windscreen of a Honda Accord.

“You’re bloody brilliant,” says tiny-eyed electronics whiz Freddie Jones (Danny Dyer) to shy novelist Lizzie Vereker (Katherine Parkinson), the former’s sateen swim trunks trembling like flaps of ham pegged to a washing line. And yea, after many months of yearning, a splosh-centred union doth ensue, with sweet Freddie cradling Lizzie as if he’s about to baptise her. Which he is. Into the Church of Love. A nation wept.

“First of May, first of May, outdoor fucking starts today,” pouts Rupert, oozing towards Cameron like an oil spill in a cricket jumper. The bounder is right, by Jove, and here is the proof – a boggling “bonk montage” in which seemingly the entire population of Rutshire engages in acts of exterior ribaldry. Chief amid them: thrashing on a haystack; slamming against a golf cart; and Richter-scale juddering near wildfowl. It’s a scene of startling enthusiasm, even if the real-world consequences of such earthworks would surely be disastrous (eg structural damage to the A417).

“How delightfully ambitious of you, little brother,” smirks Tony, stumbling in on smarmy half-sibling Bas (Luke Pasqualino) as the latter engages in a “festive five-way” with a Jenga-tower of indistinguishable “lovelies”. A closer look at the enterprise reveals a Lovecraftian tableau of fleshy derangement, with a seemingly unclaimed lower leg rising vertically from the horror like a mast on HMS Sciatica.

Another “They’re at it again, Marjorie” montage of marmalade-dropping set pieces, you say? Accompanied by the theme to Ski Sunday? Why yes, as it happens. Now shush, because this one sees Rivals’ least satiable shaggers: a) bouncing on some manner of “bonking trestle” as Cameron thwacks Rupert’s glistening thighs with a riding crop; b) undulating in front of a mirror while watched by a pair of tutting labradors; and c) bellowing into one another’s faces while spread-eagled on the stairs.

Here, we are given a rare, courtside view of Rupert Campbell-Black’s clackers when Taggie O’Hara (Bella Maclean) stumbles upon his nude tennis match with the scheming Sarah Stratton (Emily Atack). “Gnnpfffft,” splutters poor Taggie, eyes on stalks as Rupert’s “ballboys” and “umpire” pendulate in the Rutshire breeze.

How best to describe the expression that grips TV presenter Declan O’Hara (Aidan Turner)’s densely moustached face as he endures an unexpected mid-shower orgasm courtesy of: a) faithless wife Maud’s “wandering hands”; and b) his arse? “Exalted horror”, perhaps? “Rapturous dread”? Or “ferret slowly realising he’s left a Findus Crispy Pancake in the oven?” Let’s go with the last one while agreeing the scene is a high-water mark in the Rivals sex-Jacuzzi, its frothy exuberance as hilarious as it is “blue”.