The Younger Model Book Cover "Wherever did you find her?" I laughed, "She looks just like I did, fifteen years ago!"

"Only five years, surely, Darling," Derek replied gallantly. He's such a sweetie.

"Oh, you old flatterer. But seriously, she really does look like me."

"I know," he replied, laughing in turn, "She turned up for an audition yesterday. I accepted her for a role immediately. And I felt sure you would want to meet her as soon as possible. I think you'll like her."

As he is so infuriatingly often, he was quite right. She was, in an immature kind of way, really rather lovely. I found my fingers wanting to run themselves over her slender limbs and flat belly - its tautness a result of nature, rather than long hard hours in the gym - to explore her youthful breasts and delightful ass. This might be fun, I thought.

I was lying - quite naked, apart from some very stylish sunglasses - on a sun-lounger on the secluded terrace that overlooks our swimming pool. Our villa is in one of the quieter parts of the South of France, and this particular spot by the pool is a favorite of mine during the summer months. We had more-or-less permanently emigrated down here from London five or more years ago, although both of us fly back from time to time: him, to attend to business - well, mostly, I am well aware that he does mix in a little pleasure - and me, for shopping and to see a few old female friends, and one or two rather newer male ones.

I sat up, swung my tanned legs around on the lounger, then pushed up my sunglasses and wedged them in my dark hair - almost exactly the same color as hers, and achieved with only the slightest help from a bottle.

"Hello, Sophie," I said, smiling broadly and patting the lounger next to me, "Come and sit with me."

She sat, looking at me sideways and tossing back her pigtails. She was dressed in a halter top, hot pants and the highest of stiletto heels - exactly the kind of thing I would have selected to audition for a porno movie. She appeared nervous and hesitant, a natural reaction, I suppose, of being the new squeeze of a married man and now introduced to the wife.

"Would you like something to drink?" Derek asked her, ever the gentleman.

"Sure. Mebbe vodka and coke?"

"And for you, darling?"

"White wine."

He wandered off to get the drinks. He was still a well-built guy - very well built in some areas, take it from me - and just a dash of grey at the temples. He was tastefully dressed in a pale linen suit and understated silk shirt. Overdressed for an afternoon by the pool, though.

I turned to Sophie, my smile veering somewhere between a friendly grin and a lustful leer.

"Come and sit with me," I suggested, patting the padded sun-lounger, "I won’t bite."

Not just yet, anyway, I thought. Plenty of time for that later.

She moved over, sat next to me, her confidence growing. I could see she had begun to realize that I was delighted to have her here, perhaps more delighted even than my husband.

I ran a hand gently over her arm, her back.

"You look hot," I told her, with conscious double intent, "Perhaps you should cool off in the pool?"

Her face lit up with a wicked expression which wiped away any trace of her previous nervousness. I've always been good at putting people at their ease. It's one of those things that made me such a success in the business for all those years. I helped her undress - she wore no brassiere or panties under the hot pants - and she kicked off the perilously high shoes gratefully.

"You go swim, sweetie," I told her, patting her pert rump playfully, "And when you're done, I'll rub your back with sun tan lotion."

She stood up, smiled at me, then took the few steps to the poolside and dived in gracefully. I stood up to watch her splashing around; actually, she swam very well, very athletic. Derek returned carrying a tray with the drinks, including a bottled beer for him. He too was now naked, his favorite sunglasses perched over his forehead. He stood by me, watching Sophie at play for a moment, then handed me my drink. We clinked our glasses together in an unspoken toast. I sipped; the wine was chilled and delightful.

"I suppose you've had her already?" I asked him directly.

"Of course, Darling. On set, as part of the audition."

"And?"

"And in the hotel, last night."

"Of course," I replied, sipping again.

He was silent for a moment, sipping the beer from the bottle.

"Perhaps you would consider making an appearance in a new production, you and her together?" he asked, his eyes alight with anticipation.

"In front of the cameras?"

"Of course." I was looking forward to it already.

"Where?" I asked.

"Not sure yet."

He looked around, inspecting the pool and veranda, the decking and gardens with a proprietorial air. Then he nodded to himself.

"We'll rehearse the opening scene here," he said, winking at me, "This very afternoon."

Part 2