Naked on Screen

This is the second story in a series describing Adam's early sexual experiences, a lot of which involve public nudity. I recommend that you read the stories in order.

Chronologically most of this series comes before "Adam in Asia" but it doesn't matter which series you read first.

Note: in keeping with the time period of the story, I use the gender-specific term 'actress'.

Prologue

My name is Adam. I am 18 years old and in my last year at school. I live in London with my mother.

Chapter 1 - Casting

Henry V. My first big role. "Once more unto the breach..." and all that. A tough choice for a school production but Mr. Lepage, our drama teacher, didn't like things easy. Which is probably why he cast me in the lead role but, given what happened next, I must have done alright.

~

At the after-show party Mrs. Wilde, my French teacher, came over to me with a younger woman. "This is my daughter, Diana; she wants to talk to you."

Diana explained that she worked in casting and was currently looking for a young actor to appear in a movie. "Mum says that your French is pretty good. Do you think you could handle it?"

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Sorry, I am getting ahead of myself; I should have told you this bit first. It's a French movie. You would be playing a young Englishman, so your French doesn't have to be perfect. It is more about being able to take direction and generally manage on the set."

I gawped at her. "Are you serious?"

"Yes. You will have to audition of course. How old are you?"

"Eighteen" I replied.

"That is perfect. Final year at school?"

"Yes."

"They want to film next June and July so the timing of your exams could be a problem. Do you think I could come and talk to your parents?"

"I guess".

She handed me a card and asked me to give her a call the next day.

~

Next evening, I was sat at the dining room table with my Mum and Diana discussing a possible film role. It was surreal to say the least. Especially, when Diana revealed that the plot focused on the sexual relationship between my character and his friend's mother and would require nudity. Mum's attitude became distinctly frosty at this point. I didn't know where to look. Diana could see that the discussion was not going well so suggested that she come back another day and, in the meantime, we could talk about it.

~

Diana came back the following weekend, just before Christmas, and, sure enough, Mum and I had talked about it a lot, an awful lot, but it had helped sort out our thoughts.

We were not against it in principle, after all I was now an adult so it was up to me, not my parents, but the most important thing was that my studies, especially the exams, were not affected.

Diana nodded, "I think we can work around those.

"The director is proposing to be in London the week after New Year which will be before school restarts. Do you think you could come for an audition then? We would pay your expenses of course."

"Why not?" I shrugged.

"Great! I will get back to you with a suggested date. You should get an agent to represent you; I can put you in touch with a couple that I think would be suitable. Is that OK?"

I nodded, "I guess!"

"Excellent. I will give you a call in the next day or so. It would be good to get things fixed before Christmas if we can."

With that she was gone, like a minor whirlwind.

~

So it was that a few days into the new year I was sat in a waiting room at a casting agency in Central London. There were nearly a dozen other young men there. Most had rather plummy accents and many seemed to know each other to some degree already. A few quizzed me about which drama school I was at, other auditions I had done, and so on. Clearly, nobody was impressed with my answers. They were a snooty bunch. I felt like the odd one out.

At 10:00 am Diana entered the room with a cheery "Good morning. This is a casting session for 'Seuls Ensemble'. Don't worry, it is a film, not a music group."

I translated the title as something like 'Alone Together'.

"Right, this is how it will work. Pierre will see all of you for 5 to 10 minutes each and then choose 3 or 4 for a closer look this afternoon. If your schedule does not allow for that then I suggest you leave now."

A few people muttered as they checked Filofaxes, but nobody left.

"Great, then we'll start with John Brown."

A red headed lad stood up and followed Diana from the room. Every five of ten minutes others were called forward. Most came back but some, like John Brown, did not; presumably fallen at the first hurdle.

With Smith as a surname, I figured it would be well over an hour before I was called; sure enough Diana came for me at about 11:30. She led me to an adjacent room where I was greeted by a short man with a shaved head and an extravagant moustache; Pierre Faure, the director. He greeted me in French. I expected this so had mentally prepared for it. Without hesitation I responded in the same language.

He asked me about my experience and why I was interested in the role. It was all in French albeit spoken slowly and simply, obviously a test. I must have passed because after ten minutes or so he looked at Diana and nodded. She smiled and led me back to the waiting room where the last couple of candidates waited.

After the last one returned there was a brief delay, presumably while Pierre and Diana conferred. Eight expectant faces looked at her when she returned.

"Right, we would like the following three people to attend the callback this afternoon: George, Liam, and Adam. Please be here by 2pm.

"The rest of you, thank you for attending."

When the three of us got back to the waiting area we could hear shouting. It sounded like Pierre and Diana arguing in the next room. After a couple of minutes, we couldn't hear them anymore, but it was a while before Diana came to collect George. When she did, she looked cross, not the sunny disposition on display earlier.

Diana did not look any happier when she came for Liam, or when finally, she came for me.

On the short walk to the casting room, in a quiet voice I asked, "Are you OK?"

"Could be better, but don't worry about it. Just do whatever Pierre asks, I will be OK. When I give you the dialogue, make sure that you read it through before we start."

Pierre was still sprawled on the leather sofa, trying to look cool and chic. Speaking French, he welcomed me back then apologized that this session would be more intimate, then gesturing to a screen in one corner of the room asked me to undress fully. I wasn't expecting this but given that the role involved nudity perhaps I should have.

In any case, last summer I had been nude in front of others several times without any concerns. What was different?

When I stepped back Pierre looked me up and down. Diana was more polite, making an obvious effort to look at my face as she handed me a clipboard with a sheet of paper on it.

He instructed to "Tu es Paul, Diana sera Alice."

I nodded, then took some time to read the text. There were a few words I did not know; I hoped to bluff my way through them.

When I turned to face Diana I found, to my surprise, that she had removed her top and her breasts were hanging free. One of the stage directions 'Touche ses seins' now made sense.

"Ready?" she asked. I nodded. She delivered the first line, and I responded.

It went quite smoothly with only one intervention from Pierre, and then we got to the stage where we were supposed to get physical. I hesitated, looking at Diana for permission; she understood and nodded her assent.

I reached for her breasts, gently cupping them with both hands. She stepped closer to me, placing one hand on my shoulder and softly wrapping the other around my cock. It was an effort to continue with the dialogue, but I managed it somehow.

When we got to the end there was a round of applause from Pierre. "Bravo. You did very well."

It was the first time he had spoken English to me.

"Please get dressed and then we'll talk some more."

I scuttled behind the screen and put my clothes back on.

When I emerged Pierre and Diana were both sat on the sofa. He indicated that I should sit opposite.

"That was really good," he said. "What I want you to remember the surprise when you saw Diana topless. If you get the part that will be an important reaction."

"Are you still interested?"

I told him that I was.

We will let you know."

He glanced at Diana who said "yes, thank you. If you don't mind, I'll speak to you in a minute."

I nodded and returned to the waiting area, my head spinning. None of the others had been asked to wait, was that significant? Being naked in front of strangers, what a feeling that was!

While I waited for Diana, I helped myself to a coke from the fridge.

She didn't look so angry when she returned.

"Come back to my office," she said.

"I need a drink," she announced. "There's not much choice here but I expect there is champagne somewhere. Will that do?"

I told her that it would do, and she disappeared for a couple of minutes, returning with a bottle and two glasses.

Waving the tumblers she apologised "I have no idea where the flutes are; these will have to do."

She poured the wine, and we sat together on a sofa like the one in the casting room. We clinked glasses.

"I am glad that you were last today because it gives me time to say a couple of things to you.

"Firstly, if I had known about the nudity in advance I would have warned you. Pierre surprised me with that. I wasn't happy about either of us undressing or touching; actually, we had an argument."

"Yeah, we heard," I told her. Diana winced.

"Secondly, thank you for not being a, er, prick about it. The other two were quite unpleasant. The good news is that their behaviour and your consideration did not go un-noticed by Pierre, in fact it impressed him. The role needs somebody that is respectful, and you showed that. Also, your French was the best.

"Really, I should not say this before he decides, but I think the part is yours.

"Congratulations." We clinked glasses again.

The wine had gone fast. Diana refilled our glasses.

"I have a suggestion," she announced. "I want to get out of here and forget about Pierre ASAP. How about I take you out for an early dinner? There's a nice Italian close to Victoria station so you won't have far to go for a train home."

"Sounds good," I said, "but I should let Mum know. She is expecting me by 6pm latest."

"No problem, call her from my phone," she pointed to her desk. Dial 9 for an outside line, then her number. I will give you some privacy."

Mum had just got home. She wanted to know everything, but I was reluctant to go into detail beyond getting one of the callbacks.

When Diana returned, she picked up her coat and handbag, then we collected my coat and headed for the Tube.

The restaurant was crowded with people eating together before heading home and others before going to the theatre. We were sat close together at a small table.

"Tres intime" I told her, imitating Pierre from earlier.

She laughed, "not quite as intime as earlier".

"True," I acknowledged, "but also enjoyable."

"Mr. Smith," she said with mock solemnity, "I do believe you are flirting with a woman nearly twice your age."

I stuck with "True, but also enjoyable."

If only she knew what I had been up to last summer.

"Anyway, back to business. What happens next?" I asked.

"Right. Pierre said that he will decide tonight on the three of you. It might be that he wants me to keep looking but I think he will be pick you. Whatever happens I will let your agent know, and you will get the news from her.

"Assuming the part is yours there will be a contract to sign and a script to learn. You will probably have to go to Paris for a wardrobe session and maybe a read-through or rehearsal. Of course, we will have to plan the shooting around your exams.

"Do you know when they are yet?"

"No, but they must schedule them well in advance."

"OK, I will talk to Mum and see if she can help get your timetable."

I nodded.

We chatted a bit longer, Diana paid the bill, and we bade farewell with a kiss and hug that was more friendly than professional.

The next day Margaret, my agent, called to say that I had the role. Soon after Diana called to congratulate me again and say that she, or one of the producers, would be in touch.

What had I got myself into?

Chapter 2 - Costume

The term went by fast in a blur of studying, revision, and university applications. Then throw in getting ready for a role in a film and you have serious amount of stress. As I had never been abroad before I also had to get a passport.

As Diana predicted I had to visit Paris for a session with the wardrobe department. Fortunately, she made all the arrangements, all I had to do was meet her at Croydon station with enough clothes for a couple of days away. We took the train to Gatwick and caught a mid-day flight. Being my first time on a plane made it especially exciting.

She explained that normally I would be doing this on my own but, in the circumstances, she had convinced the studio to pay for her to accompany me.

A taxi took us to our hotel. 'Cheap and cheerful' was her description. After interacting with a surly receptionist at check-in, she adjusted the description to 'cheap'. I didn't care; it was my first time abroad plus I was in the company of an attractive woman.

We had adjacent rooms. Mine wasn't large enough to swing a cat in and I doubted that Diana's was any different. Luckily, we had not brought any pets with us. The appointment at the studio was next morning so we had the rest of the day to ourselves.

"I want to show you the sights" gushed Diana.

We took the metro to the Arc de Triomphe then walked south to the Eiffel Tower and along the Seine to the Place Concorde then into the gardens of Les Tuileries. Diana slipped her arm through mine as we went. We must have looked like lovers rather than colleagues. Something about the city brought us closer.

In the gardens we were sat on a bench when Diana leaned over to kiss me. Modestly at first, but then more deeply, mouths open, tongues exploring. Suddenly she pulled back.

"Shit, I should not be doing that. I'm so sorry."

"Don't be," I said. "I am glad. Yes, you started it, but I was a very willing participant.

"I am 18 years' old, I am not a virgin, and you are not even the oldest woman that I have been with."

That shocked her.

"Let's forget about the age difference, forget about our professional connection, and just enjoy each other's company."

Diana gawped. Her mouth opening and closing like a goldfish. Finally, she pulled herself together.

"Wow! That's a very grown-up response. I thought being the adult was my role."

She blushed.

I squeezed her hand. "Are you into role-play" I asked in a serious voice. That broke the tension, and she burst into laughter.

"I think I have my hands full with you," she gasped. Perhaps thinking about my penis, she added "in more ways than one."

I smiled. This was going to be a good evening.

We went back to the hotel where Diana announced that she wanted a shower before changing. We agreed that she would knock on my door when she was ready. I had no idea how long that might be but figured I had enough time for a brief call home and a shower.

My call with Mum was brief. Little more than "Hello, I'm here safely, and 'I love you'". I assumed that an international call would be expensive, and in any case, I did not want to discuss what we had been doing that afternoon.

A little while later there was a knock on my door. It was Diana. She was dressed in a tight black skirt that came to mid-thigh, a flimsy top that did little to hide the lacy bra beneath, stockings, and high heels.

"Bloody hell!" I exclaimed. A more sophisticated observer might have thought 'prostitute'; a horny 18-year-old like me thought 'phwoar'.

"I'll take that as a compliment," she said.

We ate at a brasserie a couple of doors down the street. The food was good, and the wine went down very easily. She asked me about the 'older women' so I gave her an abbreviated version of events the previous summer. We did not linger at the restaurant; I think we both knew what was going to happen next and were keen to get on with it.

Back at the hotel we paused to collect a couple of cognacs from the bar and took the creaky old lift to our floor. Diana suggested that we unlock the connecting door between our rooms. This was an alien concept to me, so she had to show me before heading to her room to complete the process. Logistics resolved she was immediately back in my room.

The next few minutes were occupied by passionate kissing and rapid undressing. When we were both naked, I pushed her back on the bed and dived between her legs. Diana screamed in delight before I had even made contact. She told me later that most men she had been with were reluctant to 'give head' as she put it.

Apparently, my partners of the previous summer had taught me well. Diana bucked and thrashed as I licked and fingered her. When she could take no more, she pushed me away.

"Jesus, you are a natural!"

"More like a good student," I demurred.

"Fuck me," she commanded so I crawled up the bed, positioned my cock, and thrust down into her. Unsurprisingly she was already well lubricated, so I slid in easily. As we were both very horny it did not take long for us to climax, almost simultaneously. I collapsed on top of her.

I think we both dozed a little. Well, I am sure that I did because the next thing I knew was that my cock was back to normal size and outside Diana's cunt, and the sweat I had worked up had dried.

It had been a long day, and we had to work tomorrow so we agreed that it was time for bed. We snuggled up together in my room.

Next morning we awoke to the telephone ringing in Diana's room.

"Shit!" she exclaimed as she dashed through the connecting door.

"That was my alarm call" she explained as she returned.

"Our car will be here in about an hour, so we have half an hour to get dressed and then the same again for breakfast. Allez!"

I allez-ed.

It took about 45 minutes to reach the studios. The car was waved through the gate, and the driver knew where to go. We stopped outside a drab building, a sign indicated that it was the 'Production Department'. Diana led the way in, negotiated at the reception desk, and then we sat down to wait. She explained that she had some other things to do so would join me in the Costume Department later.

My host, a matronly woman with an abrupt tone who introduced herself as Vicki, arrived first. She led through a series of corridors and then down a flight of stairs. This was obviously her lair.

In a brightly lit room, I was instructed to undress down to my briefs. There was no modesty screen here, so I just threw my clothes on a convenient chair. Then Vicki set about me with a tape measure, calling out the result of each examination to an even older assistant who scribbled them down on a pad of paper.

Finally, she indicated that I should remove my briefs too. The wardrobe department needing to see me naked made no sense but as a budding exhibitionist I was happy to show off. The two women looked me up and down, muttered quietly to each other and then turned towards several racks of clothes that were arranged behind them.

Each emerged with an armful of outfits for me to try on. Short trousers, long trousers, t-shirts, formal shirts, socks, underwear, and swimwear ranging from voluminous Bermuda's to tiny Speedos. Each change brought nods or shakes of the head from Vicki, and quiet instructions to her assistant.

It seemed to take forever. I started to feel sorry for catwalk and catalogue models who must go through this every working day. At last Vicki was satisfied and thanked me for my cooperation and patience.

From behind me I heard a round of applause. It was Diana, who was leaning against the door. Considering that I was completely naked this might have been inappropriate, but I didn't care. I stepped forward to give her a sloppy kiss. Let Vicki pass that on through the grapevine.

After dressing I was surprised to learn that it was only lunchtime.

"The restaurant here is pretty good," said Diana.

"I'm in your hands," I answered.

"Not just yet," she replied with a saucy wink, "but you will be."

We had an excellent lunch. Diana checked her watch and announced that our car should be outside shortly. She was right and soon we were headed back at our hotel. The plan had been for me to meet Jacqueline, my co-star, for dinner but she had been delayed on location. Which meant, as our flight home was not until the next day, we had the rest of the afternoon, and the evening free.

"Sex, sight-seeing, or shopping?" asked Diana, as the car crawled through the traffic.

"That might be the dumbest question ever" I replied.

"Shopping it is!" she grinned.

Shopping it wasn't. Nor sight-seeing. Yup, it was sex. Enthusiastic, energetic, sweaty sex.

The ancient hotel lift was a form of torture, creeping slowly up to our floor. We passed the time by kissing and groping. In her bedroom Diana pulled up her skirt and pulled down her knickers. She leant against the wall, arse towards me, her intentions obvious. I dropped my trousers and pants to release my prick. The extra height of her heels meant she was perfectly positioned for me to enter her, which I did slowly at first, concerned that she might not be wet enough. There was no need to be worried.

Once I was all the way in, I paused for a moment, then pulled back so that only the tip of my cock was inside her.

"Fuck me!" she commanded.

I was happy to oblige, driving into her with more force and speed than before. Reaching beneath her I unbuttoned her blouse, but I couldn't see how I could undo her bra without us breaking position.

Realising the problem she gasped "front catch."

Now I could squeeze her boobs, teasing both nipples between my fingers. Diana pushed back appreciatively. I continued to thrust as hard and fast as I could. I knew that I was close, but she had not come yet, so I moved one hand to her clit, rubbing and squeezing as forcefully as my other hand on her breast. That did the trick. Just as I shot my load deep inside her, she shuddered and gave a loud moan.

After a few moments to recover we straightened up and Diana turned to kiss me. We removed what was left of out clothing then squeezed into the shower together. It was small for one person, cramped for two, but that made it more fun.

Suitably washed and dried we cuddled up in bed, recharging ourselves for another round. Inevitably hands began to wander, and our mouths engaged. We had similar ideas of what to do next so ended up in '69' until we were ready to go again. This time we choose 'missionary' at a gentle pace; it was a complete contrast but just as satisfying.

By now it was early evening, and we were both hungry.

"Let's go and eat, and then there is somewhere I would like to take you," suggested Diana.

We decided that it would be quicker if we showered separately so I went back to my room and got ready. Diana opted for the 'lady of the night' look again. I wasn't complaining.

This time we took the Metro for a few stops. When we emerged, she confidently led me through a couple of twists and turns, until we reached a small bistro. There was a short menu and a specials' board, but Diana obviously knew the place, so I let her order for us.

"I used to come here all the time when I lived in Paris," she explained over a carafe of house red. "The food is good and not too expensive."

"When did you live in Paris?" I asked.

"I studied here for a year, and then I came back for a few years after I graduated."

"What did you do?"

"All sorts, a bit of translation, tour guide, some acting, but mostly I worked in a bar."

"Acting?"

"Nothing much, just as an extra, not a big star like you! But I made some contacts, including Pierre, and that is how I came to be looking for a young Englishman."

We tucked into our meal, a superb cassoulet, enthusiastically wiping up all the sauce with pieces of bread.

"So, where are we going next?"

"I want it to be a surprise. There's no rush so would you like dessert? Perhaps Crème Brûlée?"

I shrugged, "I'm in your hands tonight."

We walked slowly through the maze of streets past Pigalle Metro station and beyond. Diana was attracting a lot of attention from the many single men in the area. We passed sex shops and seedy looking bars.

Light dawned. "Is this the red-light district?"

"Yes," she answered simply.

She led us to what appeared to be a bar. A bouncer at the entrance looked puzzled by the arrival of a man and woman but did not stop us going in. The door led to a short passage with a red velvet curtain at the far end and an opening to one side. A woman sat at a desk in the alcove. She looked up with a sour expression on her face until Diana spoke.

"Bon soir, Marianne."

After a moment of uncertainty, the woman's look changed to one of delight.

"Artemis, chérie!" she exclaimed, standing up to embrace her. The two women spoke in French too fast for me to follow. It might have gone for ever except two men, obviously new guests, entered the corridor behind us.

Marianne asked them to wait and rang a small brass bell. A scantily dressed young woman appeared from behind the curtain and indicated that we should follow her. Inside was a dimly lit room with a small stage, booths and tables facing it and a bar opposite.

The waitress led us to a vacant table directly opposite the stage. An act had just finished so the lights came up and the music became quieter.

"That was a warm welcome." I observed.

"Artemis?" I enquired.

"That was my stage name.

"I worked here for a while. I was a poor student in an expensive city, plus it was a great way to practice the language. And after I helped Marianne's daughter when she was in trouble, she promised that I would always be welcome back. This seemed like a good moment to take her up on that."

The waitress returned with a bottle of champagne which she expertly opened, pouring two glasses.

"I did most of the jobs here: poured drinks behind the bar, waitressed, and 'yes', I stripped too."

I nodded. "That's none of my business."

She raised her glass in a toast. Before I could respond the lights went down, the music came up and a young woman appeared on the stage. It was too noisy to talk so I focussed on the stripper. She looked a bit emaciated and there was a dull look in her eyes; it wasn't fun to watch. The next girl was more pleasant: not so thin, a sparkle in her eyes, and she appeared to be enjoying what she was doing. I wasn't surprised when a couple of the patrons threw some money onto the stage.

The lights came up and the music fell again.

"That's how they do it. They don't need so many dancers, and the waitresses use the breaks to take orders." Diana explained.

"And them," I indicated one of the waitresses leading a customer away.

"Private dance. There are cubicles in the back. Other things too."

Before I could ask what 'other things' might be the music rose, and the lights fell. Another girl took to the stage, she looked familiar and then I realised that it was the young woman who had led us to our seats.

She was replaced by another woman, and then the lights came up again. Diana excused herself and headed towards the toilets. She had not returned by the time the break was over.

"Da ya think I'm sexy" by Rod Stewart started to play, and Diana strutted onto the stage, apparently wearing the same clothes she had arrived in, plus a feather boa around her neck. My jaw must have been on the floor. It was an amazing few minutes as she danced to the beat, gradually removing items of clothing starting with her skirt. That revealed a suspender belt, which had not been present the previous evening. The tassels on her nipples were new too. As was the thong under her knickers. It all came off until she only had the boa left. She threw that at me just as the song finished. There was some applause, and several patrons threw notes onto the stage. She collected the money and sashayed out of sight. Another dancer replaced her, but I paid no attention.

Diana returned just as the next break began. She had a big grin on her face.

"I had forgotten how much I enjoyed doing that. What did you think?"

"I think I am still in shock, but it was amazing."

"I have another surprise for you. Come with me."

Diana took my hand and led me to the far side of the stage, where I had seen a waitress and customer disappear earlier. She pulled back a heavy curtain and ushered me into a dimly lit corridor seemingly lined in drapes.

As my eyes adjusted, I realised that they hid a series of booths, some occupied, others not. Diana guided me into one of them, seating me in the simple chair that was the only furniture in the small space.

"Don't touch," she commanded.

Music was playing, a heavy funk rich in drums and saxophone. She began to move to rhythm, swaying to and fro, close then away, never quite touching but keeping eye contact all the time. It was hypnotic.

Gradually she began to strip, slowly removing her garments, never missing a beat. Shoes first, blouse then skirt, bra then panties; there was no second layer this time, no suspender belt. Now, only in her stockings, Diana turned away, crouching down so that her bum was just above my crotch. I wanted to undo my trousers but was afraid of breaking some rule. Somehow, she realised my dilemma and half turned.

"Take them off."

Within seconds I had undone them, raised my arse a little, and pushed my trousers and pants down around my ankles.

Diana continued her dance, my erect prick now close enough to slap against her arse. Lower, closer, the tease went on. Then, with a sudden swivel she was facing me, a shuffle forward and her cunt engulfed my cock. With a wicked grin on her face, she started to rise and fall, her breasts dominating my eyeline. I reached for one but was rewarded with a slap.

"No touching, remember?"

It was heaven; it was torture.

Steadily her rhythm increased, any pretence of following the music forgotten. I could tell she was close. With two final thrusts, deeper and stronger than the others, she came, my cock still hard inside her.

"Wow," I whispered in her ear as she collapsed against me.

"You didn't come?" she asked.

"I have come twice already today; three times is unlikely."

Diana was having none of that. She rose up off me then sank to her knees, taking the base of my cock in one hand, and reaching for my balls with the other.

"Scoot forward a bit" she instructed.

It was an awkward position but now she could explore behind my scrotum, seeking my anus. This was new for me. The combination of her efforts and the sheer naughtiness of our surroundings was enough, I was close now. She knew it. With a final squeeze of my balls I let fly, straight down her throat. There was a smile of triumph on her face as she let me flop from her mouth.

As we left the club Diana tried to pay the bill, but Marianne was having none of it. 'Come back any time' were here final words.

The doorman hailed a taxi for the ride back to the hotel.

Another shower would have been good, but we settled for a quick wash and straight to bed.

Fortunately, there was enough time to screw again before our flight home.

Chapter 3 - Filming

It was late June: I had just finished my last exam, school was behind me for ever, and in a few days' time I would turn 19. I really felt like an adult now.

I was off to France again. This time I was flying to Rennes, which I had never heard of until now, but is the capital of Brittany, which I had. We would be filming on the south coast of the peninsula, and this was the quickest way for me to get there.

Unlike the flight to Paris the plane had propellors and seemed to fly lower and slower; I didn't mind. The journey gave me time to focus on the coming few weeks on the film set. From being one in a crowd of students to the centre of attention.

I knew somebody would be meeting me at the airport, but I had not expected a young woman, let alone one with light brown skin and a big frizz of hair. Screwing up the sheet of paper with 'Smith' written in large letters she introduced herself in perfect English as Nathalie.

"I'm the 2nd deputy-underdog to the junior assistant producer. My areas of responsibility include making tea and getting you to the right place at the right time.

"Welcome to chaos."

I laughed, "you made that job-title up, didn't you?"

She laughed back, "well, I added the '2nd Deputy-Underdog' bit. Technically I am the Junior Production Assistant, which is basically the lowest of the low. The job description is correct 'though."

We were going to get along.

Nathalie led me to the car park where we climbed into a boring looking Renault.

"If you were expecting a stretch limo you need to reset your expectations. This film is being shot on a shoe-string budget. Jacqueline is the only one getting any star treatment around here."

"Today was only my third time on a plane, my mother must work during her holidays to pay the bills, and I have never been in a film before so I have no expectations and anything above enough food and a bed will seem like luxury."

Nathalie grinned, "then I think we can meet your needs."

By now we were on the autoroute heading west. "What qualifies you such onerous responsibilities as making tea and rounding me up?"

"Not much, I flunked Tea Academy and have trouble getting anywhere on time myself, but I think Pierre being my uncle probably clinched it." She grinned again.

I laughed, "your English is very good, and you have the humour right too."

"That is probably because my Mum is British. She and Dad met at some Embassy' do in Nairobi. They were both diplomats. He still is. She's become a hippy."

"That's a bit of a career change."

"Yeah, but she seems happy with it."

"Do you live with her?"

"No, she's back in England, running a sort of arts & crafts place. I went to boarding school here and after they split up, I spent most of my holidays with Dad at first. But now she is settled I try to spend more time with her.

"Anyway, that's enough about me for now. I need to brief you the next few days.

"You need a session with Wardrobe as soon as we get to the location." She glanced over at me "Vicki seems very keen to see you again. What happened last time?"

"Nothing. She took some measurements, and I tried some clothes on, that's all." I could tell she thought I wasn't telling her the whole story.

"Jacqueline wants to get to know you, so you are having dinner together this evening although I expect that Pierre will want to appear at some point.

"He wants to get all the beach scenes finished this week, so it is an early call tomorrow. I have put the latest script in your room. Fortunately, you don't have much dialogue, but you should read it through at least once."

"Yes, I had more or less memorised the script at Easter, but my head is full of supply and demand curves at the moment."

Nathalie laughed. "I can imagine. Especially watch out for any script changes. Pierre and the writer are constantly fiddling with it.

"Hopefully we will complete the beach shots on Friday. Whatever happens it will be too crowded at the weekend so there will be a full read-through of the remaining scenes on Saturday. Sunday is a day off. After that, we'll be at the house for the rest of the shooting.

"It will be the scenes with the whole family first, which should take a week or so. After that most of the cast and some of the crew will be off, leaving just you and Jacqueline to shoot the intimate stuff. All in all, we should be done in three weeks' time."

~

We pulled into a field crowded with small trucks and other vehicles. Nathalie found a spot to park then led me to a caravan where Vicki and her mute assistant were sat on folding stools outside, enjoying the sun. They stood as they saw us approach. After an exchange of greetings, I was ushered inside.

"I'll be waiting in the car" Nathalie announced.

"Déshabille-toi," Vicki commanded, "tout!".

As instructed, I undressed completely. Vicki started measuring me again, although I could not imagine that my inside leg had changed. This time there were no briefs concealing me, so my cock was at her eye-level. I suspected that she was doing this for her own pleasure, but I did not mind and started to get hard. The assistant giggled as Vicki briefly took my glans in her mouth.

In a flash she was back to being a professional again. Standing she continued exploring my body with her tape-measure, murmuring comments to her assistant. With that done she pointed to a rack of clothes, which I proceeded to put on for her to inspect, issuing more comments to her assistant. I made a mental note to ask her name.

As before there were a series of casual and formal shirts, short and long trousers, underwear and swimwear, shoes and sandals, and accessories like sunglasses and a watch. When all was done and I was again naked Vicki stepped close to me, cocked her head and asked a question with her eyes. I knew what she wanted.

I nodded and she grasped my cock, wanking me slowly before dropping to her knees to take me in her mouth again. She grasped the base of my cock as she slowly swallowed my whole length then backwards and forwards again.

Looking down I realised that Vicki's other hand was beneath her skirt, presumably playing with herself. With a shock I realised that the assistant was pleasing herself in the same way. The scenario was too much, and I came strongly down Vicki's throat. That sent her over the edge, leaning against me for support.

As if this was a routine happening, which perhaps it was, Vicki handed me a wet cloth to clean myself and the two women rearranged their skirts. I got dressed in my own clothes, both gave me a peck on the cheek, and that was it. I went to find Nathalie.

She wrinkled her nose when we got into the car.

"What have you been up?"

"Travelling all day," was the best explanation I could manage.

The hotel was not far away. Nathalie parked then led me up to my room. She already had a key.

"Telephone, mini-bar, and room service are all covered but don't go crazy or the accountant will be after you.

"Jacqueline is next door in 201. Pierre is in 301. Slight change of plan: the three of you are eating together this evening"

He is expecting you at 7pm in his room." She wrinkled her nose again. "I strongly recommend a shower beforehand. Dress is casual."

She checked her watch, "you've got an hour."

"Tomorrow, you have an alarm call at 5:30am. We leave at 6am so don't sleep in. There will be breakfast on location.

"If you need anything else my room is 212, down the hall.

"Have a good evening." She winked at me and left.

The room was considerably larger than the one in Paris. The furnishing was of a similar standard, but in a modern style that matched the building. I called Mum to say that I had arrived safely, then took a shower and unpacked. This would be my home for the next three weeks,

I thought of reading the script that Nathalie had left on the table, but my brain was not up to it; exhausted by the stress of exams, half a day spent travelling, the encounter with Vicki, and now a meeting with my co-star and the director. It was too much!

At 7pm I headed upstairs to Pierre's room, which with separate sitting and dining areas would be better described as a suite. He greeted me warmly and ushered me inside, where Jacqueline was already waiting.

I knew what she looked like, I had rented a video of one of her films, but she was especially beautiful in the flesh. Dark hair cut in a practical bob (at least that's why my Mum had hers that way), a round face with prominent cheeks, and brown eyes that sparkled. Best of all was her broad and engaging smile.

Whether casting such a beautiful woman as an ordinary housewife and mother was realistic is another matter. I didn't care. I was smitten.

"Hi Adam" she said, "I am so sorry that I missed you in Paris."

"Hi," I stammered, "it's great to meet you."

I held out my hand, but she leaned in to kiss me on both cheeks. She smelled divine too.

Pierre poured champagne and we all settled around the dining table.

"Here's to a successful shoot," he toasted. "Santé!"

At first, the conversation was focussed on me: how my exams had gone, the journey today, what I wanted to do at university, and so on.

"I know that you are from London, you are 18, and you recently finished your exams. Is that correct? If so, tell me more," asked Jacqueline.

This was all in perfect English, albeit with an accent that I found very sexy.

I gulped. "Yes, that's right. Not sure what else there is to tell you.

"My mum is a university lecturer; she works quite hard to pay the bills because my father disappeared years ago. I like football and music. I hope to have a career in business, maybe marketing, so I plan to do Business Studies at university."

"Bien, et tu parles français?"

"Un peu, mais pas très bien. I understand better than I speak," I added.

"No problem, we'll stick with English. It's good for me to practise." She was being kind.

"How did you get this part?"

"Luck really. I was in a play at school, the casting agent saw me, her mother knew that I spoke French and, well, that's it."

"So, you weren't looking for it?"

"No, it was complete chance."

"There must have been some talent too. The casting agent saw something, and Pierre said that he was very impressed by your audition. Be confident; I am sure that you deserve to be here."

"Jacqueline's right," added Pierre, "Diana and I were both impressed by you, and I am sure that Jacqueline will do all she can to help. Don't worry, you'll be fine.

"Thanks, I hope that I can live up to your trust in me."

By now the food had arrived. Pierre and I were getting stuck into steak and fries, Jacqueline was picking at a salad. The conversation had moved on to how the shoot was going so far, what the schedule was, and how things work on a film set.

"If you don't understand something, don't be afraid to ask," Pierre told me.

"Now, I can see that you are tried, but there's something that we wanted to discuss with you."

We had moved over to the seating area; Pierre in an armchair, Jacqueline next to me on a sofa. "Tell me, how do you feel about our intimate scenes?"

The question surprised me and I half-choked on the wine I was drinking.

Jacqueline laughed, "sorry, I guess that was a rather forward question."

I composed my thoughts before answering. "It's a fair question, just not one I was ready for.

"Until now it felt hypothetical, surreal even, a bit like a dream. Now that I am here, sitting next to you it is very real.

"I am excited and terrified. The nudity doesn't bother me, although my experience so far has been in situations where everyone is naked, and I know that won't be the case on set. I am not a virgin so being with a woman, even an older woman, is not scary. What worries me most is getting an erection or worse, coming. The last thing I want to do is offend you."

Jacqueline smiled. "That is a good answer, it is the one I would hope for, but not everybody would be honest about it. Thank you for being open.

"So, let me be equally honest in response.

"Many actors think it is OK to get an erection when they are around actresses. They say that it is a compliment; but it always feels to me like the action of a dirty old man. If you are inspired by my looks then write me a poem, or send me flowers, don't rub your dick against permission!"

She must have seen my face.

"Don't worry. I would make allowances for any young man in this situation, but especially you because you have already expressed concern about what might happen, that is more than would cross the mind of most French actors.

"Pierre told me that one of the reasons he gave you the role is because you were considerate to the casting agent when the others were not. I can see that response in what you said to me. By the way, I nearly ripped his balls off when he told me what he'd made her do."

Pierre gave a shrug, then took over the conversation.

"Jacqueline and I are doing this film primarily to help the producer, Andre, who is an old friend. Unfortunately, his last few films have not done so well so his company is in trouble. He was only able to fund this one because we signed up.

"The thing is, we'd like to do something to boost its appeal even more, but it involves you too, so you need to agree."

"OK, but what is it that you want?" I asked.

"Normally with a film like this the nudity would be limited - boobs and bum, no genitals - and the intimacy implied rather than explicit." Pierre explained.

Jacqueline took over again, "I'm going to do some scenes with full nudity and, if you agree, we will do some shots of you touching me intimately. Of course, the ideal is that you are also fully nude, and that you allow me to touch you as well."

"Sorry," I said, "do you mean that you want to make this a porn film?"

She sounded offended. I held up my hand in apology. They both laughed.

"Certainly not, it would not be that explicit and we would not actually have sex!"

"Sorry, this is all new to me. I don't know what 'normal' would be and therefore what 'more' means."

Jacqueline's face softened. "Of course, and you are tired too. We can talk again tomorrow."

I thanked them both and returned to my room. As I got ready for bed, I thought about what they were asking and what my answer should be.

Seconds later, or so it seemed, the phone by my bed was ringing.

"Bonjour, monsieur. Ceci est votre réveil."

My alarm call. Could it really be Wednesday morning already? I stumbled off to the shower.

My only knowledge of how film sets work was from watching American movies and TV shows, and I realised that even if the depiction of things in the US was accurate how things worked in France was potentially very different. Even so, I pictured Jacqueline sitting moodily in her 'trailer' impatiently shouting instructions to her minions.

Next morning, in the car from the hotel to the location, Jacqueline explained that we would be sharing a trailer.

"I suggested it to save a few francs for poor Andre, and as we will be naked together a lot it seemed unnecessary to each have our own. You don't mind, do you?"

"I'm sure it will be an upgrade from using a classroom at school," I replied, not quite answering her question.

She grinned.

Nathalie parked the car, and we entered the caravan to find Vicki waiting for us. She nodded toward Jacqueline and grinned at me.

"Have you had a blow job from Vicki, yet?" asked Jacqueline with a grin on her face. "She's blown half the male actors in France, including some of the gay ones."

My face let me down. Jacqueline laughed.

"Right, this how it works. We strip off, Vicki helps us dress, which shouldn't take long for a beach scene, then somebody from Hair and Make-up will appear to make us look our best. Meanwhile, Nat will fetch us some breakfast. At some point we will probably see Pierre and perhaps the cameraman. It is best to go to the toilet now.

"Any questions?"

"Er, no," was all I managed.

"Alors, I shall go to the toilet first."

At that moment Vicki arrived. She pointed to a pile of clothes and accessories on a bench on one wall of the trailer. As I removed my shirt, Bermudas and boxers, she hung them on a hook. Now naked I was starting to get an erection.

Vicki looked down and grinned. "Pas aujourd'hui chérie" she said, handing me a pair of Speedos.

"There's little privacy on a film set," said Jacqueline, returning from the toilet and beginning to strip herself.

I didn't need the toilet, so I sat and watched. She was in great shape for a woman practically old enough to be my mother.

Nathalie knocked on the door and entered with a breakfast tray. It was mostly the usual fare: pastries and fruit. But there was a 'special' for me, a bacon sandwich!

"The Chef was keen to show his cultural sensitivity," she teased. I wolfed it down.

Marie from Hair and Make-up arrived, shortly followed by Pierre. He ran through the shooting schedule for the day while we were primped and painted.

"Break a leg" he wished me and left.

A few minutes later Nathalie announced that it was time to go. We joined other cast members wandering towards the beach. She or Jacqueline introduced me to other actors as we went. Some were very warm and welcoming but others, especially the younger ones, were quite cold and aloof.

"I'm afraid they don't like you," Nathalie whispered. "I'll explain later."

At the beach a woman with a megaphone, who I later learned was the Assistant Director, was shouting instructions as to who should go where, and what to do when 'action' was called.

To begin, Jacqueline and I were stood with other 'family' members near the pathway onto the beach. We were equipped with an assortment of beach equipment - towels, parasols, picnic bags, etc. - and expected to walk onto the sand and head for a pre-determined spot.

The number of people fussing around us was astonishing. A cameraman on a wheeled cart, apparently called a 'dolly', sat on tracks like a narrow-gauge railway. People with lights and reflectors, others with microphones on booms. It looked like chaos, but they worked together without any obvious problems.

At last, all the preparation was done. Pierre called 'Action' and we walked about ten yards before he called 'Cut'. He huddled together with the cameraman over a monitor. There was a lot of pointing and quiet discussion before were instructed to do it again.

There was no explanation about what improvement was needed. We just did it again. And a third time before he was satisfied. I was losing the will to live. It wasn't even lunchtime.

The next scene was the group reaching their chosen spot and laying out towels, applying sun-cream (which Make-up had already done). It was more complicated, so it took more takes - I lost count - before Pierre was happy. When he was, he called a break. I could have kissed him.

"Ohmigod, that was torture," I exclaimed as we walked back to the cluster of vehicles that was our 'camp'.

Jacqueline laughed, "welcome to the world of filmmaking. It is always like this. Several weeks shooting for a film that might last 90 minutes. You do the same thing several times then wait until everyone is ready for the next scene. And repeat.

"I try for a sort of Zen-calm. Otherwise, my blood pressure would be off the charts."

I laughed, "that sounds like good advice."

After the break we managed two more scenes: 'playing on the beach' and 'running towards the water'. I tried to adopt Jacqueline's approach; it seemed to help. After lunch we completed one more scene - 'people playing in the water' - before Pierre called a halt for the day.

Vicki was waiting for us back at our trailer. I had just stripped off my Speedos when she stepped close and grabbed my cock. Jacqueline noticed and told her to stop teasing me. She grinned as she backed away.

Marie from Make-up appeared to remove the cosmetics, and then it was just the two of us and Nat who said, "I'll leave you to clean up, and then drive you back to the hotel."

"I'll have a quick shower now to get rid of the sand," announced Jacqueline. I waited, wearing a dressing gown that Vicki had handed me.

She returned a couple of minutes later. "Your turn".

I did as she instructed.

Now it was her turn to watch me as I dried myself and dressed.

"Did you think about what we proposed last night?" she asked.

"Of course.

"As I said I don't know what 'normal' is. That means I must rely on your advice and my own sense of what is OK."

"Fair enough."

I was going to say more but we were interrupted by Nathalie, who was ready to drive us back to the hotel. In the car Jacqueline suggested that we have dinner in her room.

After a proper shower and a call home I knocked on her door. We ordered food then settled down at opposite ends of a sofa. I took a gulp of wine.

"I cannot believe that we are about to have this conversation, but I know that we should."

She smiled encouragingly.

"Touching intimately sounds OK, but it could mean different things to different people. We need to be clear what it means to us, and what we consider too much."

"I agree," said Jacqueline. "Let me tell you what I am happy with. You say if anything is too much."

I nodded.

"Kissing on the mouth, including open mouth and tongue, is OK. So is touching and kissing my breasts."

She looked at me expectantly, I nodded.

"Now it gets difficult. You will be expected to simulate oral sex on me. You may get close, but you do not have to touch my pussy with your mouth or hands. Are we agreed?"

This is such a weird discussion, I thought. "No problem; I will not touch you."

She nodded her thanks.

"Finally, there is the question of sex, that is simulating sex. I know that there will be times when your dick is touching my pussy, it is practically unavoidable, and so it is OK. Just don't do it deliberately."

The doorbell rang; dinner had arrived. Any relief was temporary. As soon as the waiter had gone Jacqueline resumed the discussion.

"I know that you are worried about getting hard. I know you do not have much control over that so if it happens, OK. You might even ejaculate, I don't want that, but OK.

"The key point is that I do not expect you to penetrate me with your penis.

"Are we agreed?"

I nodded.

"Bon, let's eat then discuss your boundaries."

My boundaries? I was a horny young man; I didn't have boundaries! If a sexy French actress wanted to cover me with custard and fuck me a dozen ways until Tuesday, she wouldn't even come close to them.

Obviously, that wasn't the sort of answer she was looking for. 'Think Adam, think!' I told myself.

"Right. Mouth, breasts; the same as you."

She nodded.

"My cock, close but no touching; like your pussy." I ventured.

"That might not be practical. I might need to hold it out of the way sometimes."

I thought for a moment. "That makes sense, so OK for that purpose."

"What about a scene like we are laying together and I have my hand on you?"

I pictured that for a moment.

"Um, of course, that sounds alright.

"Now; sex, simulating sex, yeah, well, what you said makes sense."

Jacqueline made a squeaking noise. I looked up, she was trying to stifle a laugh. She reached out to touch my hand.

"Adam, forgive me. You are trying so hard to say and do the right thing. It is utterly adorable. Pierre made a good choice with you.

"Let's forget the specifics. Let's agree that we only do what we feel comfortable with in the moment. I trust you to respect me, and I hope you trust me."

I thought for a moment, "that sounds much better than a set of rules. I am not sure I can remember those plus my lines in the middle of filming."

She grinned, "then I think it is time for bed. Alone, of course."

My second day on the set was much like the first. Nathalie drove us to the beach where Vicki and Marie were waiting for us in the trailer. We ate breakfast while they got us ready.

Today's scenes were much the same too. More of us playing on the beach or in the water, sprawling on towels, and eating a picnic. By now Jacqueline and most of the female cast members were topless. Everywhere I looked there were naked boobs, and I was encouraged to look because that was part of the plot: young Englishman dazzled by daring behaviour of French women, and Pierre wanted to catch that on film. A lot of the shots were done in two parts: boobs in one and my reaction in another, but some were done with both in the frame at the same time. I was not complaining.

There were also a couple of scenes that were intended to show my reaction to being ignored by Jacqueline's 'son', my penfriend, who according to the plot was more interested in a couple of French girls also on holiday. What young boys wouldn't be? I didn't blame his character.

Finally, we were done for the day so went back to the trailer, and then the hotel.

Friday morning started as a repeat of the previous two days: we got ready in the trailer and then did two more beach scenes, but these were the last involving other cast members, so they got the rest of the day off; Jacqueline and I had more work to do.

After a quick break we filmed some close-ups of her rubbing sun-cream on my back, and then her returning the favour. It took several takes from a couple of angles before Pierre was happy. Lunch was late as he wanted to get these in the can first.

It was the first time that we had really touched each other. I probably would have had an erection in any case, but knowing what was going to happen next made it certain. A major hard-on in a pair of Speedos is not comfortable and easily visible. But if anyone noticed they didn't mention it.

After lunch we moved from the sandy part of the beach to a small, wooded area at one end. The plot was that my character had gone there, unhappy because he was being ignored by the other youngsters, and Jacqueline's came to find me. We would talk, she would hug me in a motherly fashion, then break away as things began to get more intense, leaving me with an erection and our mutual attraction established.

Which is how it went... except that because we were making a film the action was broken down into small pieces. Me staring moodily out to sea, Jacqueline walking through the trees, Jacqueline spotting me, the two of us talking, then us hugging, then kissing, her breaking away, and finally me with a hard-on. Each part blocked, framed, lit, and then acted, usually several times over.

It was tedious but at least I had the pleasure of kissing Jacqueline and placing my hands on her breasts repeatedly. It got even better when she improvised by slipping a hand between us to feel my cock. I was hard then!

Unfortunately, it quickly passed. Preparing for the final shot: the close-up of my penis, supposedly stiff in my Speedos, was a downer. Staying hard with half a dozen fully dressed people fussing around you did not excite me. 'Little Adam' was not cooperating.

Pierre was not happy. Had he really expected me to be stiff on command? He glanced over his shoulder and Vicki stepped up. For a moment I thought she was going to blow me in front of everyone but instead she pulled at the waistband of my trunks, not easy given how tight-fitting they were, and slipped a fake penis inside. Of course, being Vicki, she gave the real thing a squeeze in the process.

Pierre was satisfied and called 'Action' a couple of times, had the cameraman reframe the shot and shoot again.

At last, it was over. Except it wasn't, as she retrieved the fake boner Vicki gave me a good feel and licked her lips too. Now I was hard!

Jacqueline was waiting to walk back to the trailer with me. From the grin on her face, I think she had a good idea what had happened.

"Don't worry, everybody knows what Vicki gets up to. Nobody cares."

Back in the trailer we had the usual routine of Vicki taking possession of our costumes and Marie removing our make-up. Then it was a quick shower and putting our normal clothes back on.

It was Friday night and there was a dinner for the whole cast and crew. As lead actors our presence was essential. It was part end of week relaxation and part farewell because today was the last day for some.

There must have been 30 people gathered for an aperitif before dinner. Most were outside on the terrace enjoying the evening sun. Some I had spoken to before but others I had only glimpsed as they ran around doing technical things.

In general, they were friendly and engaging. We chatted about obvious stuff like where I was from, how I came to be there, and my first impressions of being on a film set; all in a mixture of French and English. But I did notice that the younger cast members remained distant. I reminded myself to ask Nathalie about that.

Dinner was in part of the restaurant that the hotel had reserved for us. We sat at long tables and the food was served family style so that we could try the different dishes. It was very pleasant.

When the table was being cleared, I realised that all the young actors had disappeared, then Nathalie beckoned me to come outside.

"I'm afraid they have gone off without us," she said, with a look of annoyance on her face. "On Friday nights the youngsters usually head off to party at a disco, that's where they will be headed now.

"I asked them to wait for us, but they obviously have not. Christophe, your 'penfriend', is either following 'the method' or is just a little shit; I favour the latter."

She was obviously upset but I could not help laughing.

"Sorry, your analysis was funny. I think you are right about him being a shit. What I don't understand is why they resent me."

"He is the ringleader. The others are not so bad, but they follow his lead.

"Two things. One, I think he would have liked your part, to star with Jacqueline. Of course, casting an Englishman was the obvious thing, but Christophe is not very smart. Secondly, to fit in with your availability they have had to shoot on a couple of Saturdays, which means him acting with a hangover after a night at the disco. You'll see tomorrow when we do the read through.

"The fundamental problem is that he's an arrogant prick who thinks the world should revolve around him, and certainly not a 'ros bief' like you."

"Have you got his autograph yet?"

She started to splutter and giggled when she realised that I was teasing her.

"He won't make it. He's annoyed Jacqueline and Pierre so I think they will pass the word on. Upsetting big name actors and directors early in your career is not a clever move.

"Anyway, let's forget about him. I have the impression that you and Aunt Jacqueline might be experimenting with 'the Method'."

"That's the second time you have mentioned 'the Method', what is it?" I asked.

"Oh, you don't know? Why would you, I suppose. Basically, it is a technique whereby actors seek to improve their on-screen performance by extending their character's behaviour off-screen. So, for example, if you are a grumpy bastard in the script then you behave like one off camera too. If you are screwing another character on screen, then you do it for real."

I understood her point, and blushed. Nathalie noticed and laughed.

"Don't worry, nobody minds. Enjoy!"

"You probably won't believe me, but we really have not had sex, and I don't expect to."

"Poor Adam, you haven't slept with one of the hottest actresses in France who has a reputation for bedding all of her leading men?" she teased, "what can I do to cheer you up?"

"To be honest, I'm exhausted, all I want to do is go to bed."

Nat cocked her head, "with me?"

I realised that I had not been clear, "no, alone. I just want to sleep!"

"So, you don't want to sleep with me? Shall I fetch Vicki?"

She was milking this.

"You know what I mean," I growled.

She relented, "yeah, I do. Don't worry, I am not offended.

"The read-through doesn't start until 10am so you can have a lie-in tomorrow. I'll ask Reception to call you at 9am. Breakfast is in the dining room.

"Sleep well."

"Thanks, I mumbled."

I really was exhausted and slept like a log.

~

The read-through on Saturday morning was in one of the hotel's meeting rooms. Nearly a dozen of us were sat around a conference table: Jacqueline and I, her 'family', the two girls that Christophe was attracted to, plus Pierre, Andre the producer, the scriptwriter whose name was René, and a couple of assistants. Nat was lurking at the back of the room to provide refreshments and run errands.

Nat had told me that a read-through normally happened much earlier in production, indeed there had been several but without me for obvious reasons. In the circumstances, Pierre wanted to do another with me present as a rehearsal for the following week's scenes.

For the rest of the shoot, we would be shooting at a holiday house supposedly owned by the parents of Jacqueline's character. The coming week would be scenes of family meals, lazing by the pool and so on.

As Nat had predicted Christophe and his gang were suffering from their night out. Consequently, the whole session was a struggle. Pierre was furious, berating their lack of professionalism. I was very glad that they had not waited for us.

It was past 1pm when he called a halt. I think he might have kept us longer, but Jacqueline had to leave for a family event in Paris. She would not be back until late on Sunday night.

We had lunch in the hotel restaurant with Pierre, Andre, and René. At first, they spoke in French so fast and colloquial that I barely grasped that they were talking about the behaviour of the young cast members, I did not understand much of it.

Nat grinned, "see what I mean about a bad career move?"

I nodded.

By now the three men had calmed down. Switching to English they asked about my experience on set so far and what I was expecting over the next two weeks. After coffees the three of them left to work on a few script changes. Nat and I were alone.

"Command me, master," she intoned.

"Command number 1 is stop messing around. I haven't had a quiet weekend for nearly a year, I thought this would be it but 'no' I had to spend the morning with a bunch of hung-over idiots and lunch with three men on the verge of apoplexy. Ugh!"

"Ugh, indeed" she agreed. "What do you want to do?"

"I'd like to just relax in my room, maybe watch a film; just do nothing really."

"Am I invited?" she asked. I nodded.

We slumped on the couch in my room, flicking through the channels, nothing caught our attention.

"Have you slept with Jacqueline yet?" she asked.

I shook my head. The directness of the question shocked me.

"I am a bit surprised; Vicki isn't the only one with a reputation. Supposedly, Jacqueline has fucked a lot of her co-stars, men and women! If I am honest, I have a bit of a crush on her myself."

"Maybe the reputation is wrong," I suggested. "Perhaps somebody spread the idea because she wouldn't sleep with him. All I know is that we haven't, despite sharing a trailer and having adjacent rooms."

"Would you like to fuck her?" Nathalie asked.

I hesitated, embarrassed to be expressing such a thing in front of another woman.

Nathalie chuckled, "I think that is a clear non-answer answer."

"She's not too old for you?" she teased.

I was embarrassed. I blushed and stuttered "n-no".

She put her hand on my knee.

"Would you like to fuck me?"

Again, I stumbled over my response, "of c-course, you are gorgeous."

That was enough. The dam burst and we were all over each other: frantically kissing, touching, removing clothes. Then we were in bed; my mouth on her pussy, hers on my cock.

Both ready for the next step we shuffled around. I pushed myself up so that I could see her face. "Condom?"

She shook her head, "just fuck me."

I did.

~

Next morning was a luxury. No alarm, no studying to do, no exams, no work, nothing. My first proper day off in months. And a naked woman in bed beside me.

After we fucked again Nathalie convinced Room Service to bring us something to eat. Officially it was too late for breakfast and too early for lunch, but anything was possible for the star of the film!

"How about the two us take a trip to the beach?" she suggested.

"Are you mad? We've spent the last week at a beach!"

"Yes, but this will be a different one, and we will not have an army of people watching you pretend to have fun.

"See the difference?" she challenged.

I relented, "I suppose that is different and I should not let my experience over the last few days permanently colour my view of sand.

"However, there is a practical problem. I don't have a swimming costume, and I don't want to seek assistance from Vicki."

Nathalie laughed. "Don't worry, I have a solution. Just bring a towel and some water. I'll supply the rest.

"Meet in Reception in 15 minutes."

~

Nathalie parked the car by the side of a rocky track. It did not seem like a proper parking bay, but neither did the spots occupied by a couple of other vehicles ahead of us.

"We walk from here," Nat announced.

An ill-defined path and a descent more suited to a mountain goat led us down to a small cove.

Nathalie led me to a spot at the nearest end of the beach. People that I assumed were occupants of the other cars, were scattered further along.

She laid out her towel and undressed. As in completely. As in nude.

I gawped because a) she was gorgeous, and b) she was nude.

Did I mention her being nude?

She pulled a face at me. "The solution to not having swimming gear is to go to a nudist beach.

"What are you waiting for? I have seen you naked twice a day for the last three days, why should today be any different?" then she started running towards the water.

"Last one in is a cissy!" she called over her shoulder.

Of course, as I was still dressed it was no contest, but I wanted to put on a show. I stripped and raced after Nat, finally catching her in water that was up to her neck. She grabbed my penis and pulled me close, for a deep, passionate, kiss, her breasts squeezed against my chest.

After a moment she cocked one leg around, trying to manoeuvre my cock into her pussy, but the angles were all wrong. The sea had enough swell to unbalance us. We toppled over, losing contact as we fell.

"Fuck this! Beach, now!" Nat commanded.

We got back to the shore as quickly as we could. Nat threw herself down on her towel, rolling onto her back. I dived between her legs, licking the salty water from her cunt, seeking her clit which was nestled beneath a thatch of dark hair. She reached down, pulling my head against her.

Gently I pushed a finger inside, sliding it back and forth to her obvious pleasure. I added another finger, then a third. Nat was bucking against me now. It was time for the next step.

Adjusting my position, I rested the tip of my cock on her pussy lips, then pushed inside her. She lifted her legs behind my back, allowing me to penetrate her deeply. Every time I pulled out, she'd pull me back in. Nathalie was noisy too. It was frantic, like two animals rutting. We were both so horny, it couldn't last long. Fortunately we both came at the same time.

"That was fun," I said, leaning over to kiss Nathalie.

"Mmm," was all she could manage with my tongue in her mouth.

After a dip to wash off sweat and other fluids we snuggled together. The weather was worsening clouds were gathering and there was a chill wind.

"Pierre won't be happy about this; he won't want to lose any shooting time.

"Anyway, I'm cold and hungry, so let's go."

Back at the hotel Nat spoke with Pierre. The rain was very heavy now, so a new schedule was needed. She spent the rest of the afternoon and evening alerting everyone to the change. Even the caterers needed to know so that could provide the right meals on set.

Finally, we snuggled up in my bed together, taking time to explore each other's body, slowly working towards a round of energetic sex.

~

In the car next morning Jacqueline asked if anything happened after she left on Saturday. I assumed she meant with Christophe and his gang, but it was quickly obvious that she was after something else.

"What are you getting at?" I asked.

"I was curious how my favourite assistant and my co-star ended up in bed together."

Nathalie and I glanced at each other, neither sure what to say.

Jacqueline giggled, "you should see your faces right now!

"The answer to your next question is 'I looked though the connecting door when I got back'.

"Did you have fun?"

"We did, thanks," replied Nathalie with a touch of petulance.

Fortunately, we arrived at the house before the conversation turned nasty.

The family scenes in the house were all meals. Breakfasts, lunches, dinners. All we seemed to do was eat and drink and talk. Then we would have a break when more food and drink was available. After two days I was starting to yearn for the variety of shooting at the beach. Wednesday brought some relief, we moved outside! Sadly, it was only more meal scenes.

Thursday was better as we moved on to scenes by the pool, many of which featured Jacqueline topless. Shooting went well so that early on Friday afternoon Pierre felt able to call an end to the week. That was significant as it marked the point at which most of the cast were released; only Jacqueline and I were needed for the last week of shooting.

The atmosphere that evening was understandably exuberant. Most of the cast would be headed home tomorrow and many of the crew had a free weekend. Even Christophe managed to be pleasant for a while, but he still took his gang off to a club without asking Nathalie or me. I didn't mind, I would have said 'no'.

Before long almost everyone had disappeared, leaving just three of us.

"Jacuzzi?" asked Jacqueline.

Soon we were out in the pool area. Jacqueline was quick to strip and climb in, setting a standard that Nathalie and I quickly matched. Jacqueline was facing me, with Nathalie between us. The tub was small, so were all close together, knees touching.

I felt a hand stroke my thigh, Nathalie. I returned the gesture, moving my right hand to her leg. Her knee pressed against mine, making it easier to reach her pussy. But, to my surprise, another hand was already there, Jacqueline. Then I felt a foot wriggling between my legs, seeking my cock.

It was almost comical. All three of us were playing with each other. There were moans and sighs all around, then Jacqueline and Nathalie fell silent, they were kissing.

It all felt so good.

"Let's go to my room," Jacqueline said, "we can take the back stairs."

We grabbed our clothes and headed upstairs, still naked, giggling like a bunch of naughty school children. Inside we dumped our clothes and piled into the bathroom for towels. In a fumble of bodies and laughter we dried ourselves and each other. Suddenly the frenzy stopped, as if at the same instant we had realised what we were doing and what was going to happen. Were we all up for it?

Nathalie broke the tension by stepping in close to Jacqueline and kissing her full on the lips. The older woman responded, opening her mouth, caressing her body, pulling her tight. I watched as the two women explored each other.

I was wondering if I should leave them alone when Nathalie took charge again. Grabbing one of our hands she pulled Jacqueline and I back into the bedroom. She pushed her down onto the bed.

"Fuck me" Nathalie urged as she lowered her head between Jacqueline's legs.

I was happy to oblige. Standing behind her Nathalie's pussy was at just the right level and already well lubricated for me to slip inside easily. Every stroke pushed her mouth against Jacqueline's cunt. Judging by the loud moans from further up the bed the effect was appreciated.

After a few minutes Jacqueline took charge. She shuffled us around so that I was now lying back on the bed, prick pointing skywards.

"I have wanted this for weeks," she purred as she impaled herself on me.

Nathalie fluttered around us. First kissing me, then Jacqueline, reaching down between us to play with her clit, then shifting behind us to lick and play with my balls as I thrust in and out. As my pace increased, she managed to get her tongue to my ass; it can't have been easy. But it brought me to a climax, shooting my load deep into Jacqueline.

As I rolled off Nathalie dived back in to clear my cum from Jacqueline's pussy. I had never seen anything like that before, so I was gawping when she transferred some her mouth to the other woman. Wow.

At last, we collapsed in a tangle of limbs, soon falling asleep.

Next morning Nathalie drove us to the location. I had assumed that we would have the weekend off, but time on location is expensive so we had to work on Saturday. Pierre wanted us to 'block' our moves for the next week.

The site was relatively quiet as most of the crew were not required. Pierre, us through the storyboard, explaining what he wanted from each scene, how we should be moving, what emotions we should be showing, and so on. We did not have to be nude, but he wanted us in our underwear to help set the mood.

Fred the cameraman and Erick who did the lighting, were already upstairs.

We began with our first intimate scene: Jacqueline and I in the bathroom. The plot was that after watching her sunbathe naked by the pool I was masturbating over the sink. She would come up behind me and help me 'finish'.

Basic stuff: woman wanks man, man comes.

The challenge was to simulate that on film, especially in a confined space including a prominent mirror. Where to put the camera without it being in shot? What about the lights? The sound boom? And, of course, would it tell the story?

It was a slow, boring process even with only three shots: me wanking, Jacqueline walking in, and then her wanking me. Finally, Pierre was happy, so we started work on our bedroom scene.

Again, the premise appeared simple: man and woman touching each other, man and woman having sex, man and woman lying next to each other. But how were they touching? Where were they touching? What positions were they in? Were they lying on their backs? their sides?

I wasn't sure that Pierre knew what he wanted. I knew that I wanted it to end.

At last, he let us go. He clearly wasn't happy, but everyone had had enough. Nathalie drove us back to the hotel, then went into town to fetch pizzas.

It had been a strange experience, intimate and yet not, arousing and yet not.

In her room Jacqueline stripped me and delivered a soft, sloppy blow job, without handling my dick. Her fingers focussing on my balls and arse instead. After all the stimulation that day I came easily.

After wolfing down pizza I had a long soak in the bath, which helped my legs, and watched Nathalie and Jacqueline satisfy each other in the walk-in shower. Like the night before the three of us slept snuggled together in the big bed.

Life was good.

The next morning started with more sex. I awoke to find both women licking and caressing my penis, then taking turns to swallow the head whilst the other nibbled and sucked my balls. Not wanting to cum this way I rolled around so that I could enter Jacqueline from behind. It wasn't a deliberate choice, just the first pussy in reach. As I thrust into her Nathalie wriggled beneath to start licking us, from shaft to clit and back, and I could see that Jacqueline was attending to Nathalie's pussy with her mouth.

Life was very good.

Over breakfast we discussed what to do with our day off.

"What did you do last weekend?" asked Jacqueline.

"We went to a beach," Nathalie answered.

Jacqueline groaned.

"A nude beach," I hastened to add.

She perked up. "Long time since I have been to one of those. Was it crowded? I don't want to catch anyone's attention."

"It was quiet last week, and if you wear that big floppy hat your face is well hidden," Nathalie told her.

~

We parked in the same spot, clambered down the rocky path and established ourselves at one end of the beach. As far as I could tell there were only a couple of other people there.

As before, Nathalie stripped off and raced for the water shouting "last one in is a cissy!"

"What's a cissy?" Jacqueline asked.

"Stupid British saying, don't worry about it."

We both undressed and walked down to the sea at a more leisurely pace. Jacqueline kept her hat on.

A few more people turned up, but the beach was never crowded. Even so, there was no repeat of the public fucking that Nathalie and I engaged in the previous week. Not wishing to draw any attention to Jacqueline, we limited ourselves to occasional touches, mostly hidden by the water, and demure kissing.

By late afternoon we were feeling hungry so gathered our things and headed back to the hotel. Bored with the menu we opted to eat at a small restaurant next door. This time there was no hiding who Jacqueline was, the owner demanding a photo to go up on his wall of 'famous' guests, none of whom I recognised.

Finally, we made it back to Jacqueline's room, all tired after several weeks' hard work and a day of fresh air. After showering off accumulated sand and salt we collapsed on the big bed, soon sound asleep.

~

I had assumed that we would be doing the bathroom scenes next morning, but Pierre wanted to shoot by the pool while the weather was good. For me, shooting scenes out of sequence was the most confusing thing about filmmaking.

When we arrived on set the lighting crew were busy rigging giant shades and reflectors. We needed sunlight, but not direct sunlight, or else Jacqueline and I would be screwing our eyes up.

We also had to be careful about sunburn, which meant lots of sun crème. Some shots included Jacqueline and me applying it ourselves and each other. But Pierre was nervous about continuity when the cameras weren't rolling. Consequently, Marie kept dashing in to rub crème into every area of exposed flesh with apparent enthusiasm.

At first, it was arms, legs, and torsos, but as we progressed from swimwear to fully naked, things got more intimate. Jacqueline's breasts, inner thighs, and bum cheeks all received the same careful treatment. But Marie saved her best work for me: gently stroking my cock at every opportunity.

Of course, I started to get hard each time. Jacqueline noticed and winked at me. Pierre was less impressed and told Marie off for causing a problem with continuity, which did not seem to stop her. I wasn't complaining.

At the end of filming for the day, Marie accompanied us back to our trailer. She removed our make-up and left us to shower. I helped Jacqueline wash the oil off her back, and she returned the favour.

Tuesday morning was much like Monday. Jacqueline and me lying on adjacent sun loungers in various stages of undress as Pierre led us through two remaining scenes, and a few additional takes on scenes from yesterday. As before, Marie kept dashing in to top-up our sun crème.

Outside shots complete we broke for an early lunch. Jacqueline indicated that I should get in the shower first. When the cubicle door opened behind me, I assumed she was coming to wash the sun crème off my back. Except I soon realised that it wasn't her, it was somebody else. Marie!

The young make-up woman was as thorough removing the crème as she had been applying it. Every nook and cranny washed and rinsed, §she turned me to face her. The grin on her face was adorable, her hand on my prick incredible. Over her shoulder I could see Jacqueline watching us. She had set this up!

Marie attending to my front as thoroughly as my back. No trace of crème or soap could possibly remain. Despite the confined space she managed to sink to her knees, taking my cock in her mouth.

Can you imagine? A hot young woman giving you a blow job while your beautiful actress lover watches. It was divine. It didn't last long. She had been winding me up for the last couple of days, and the sight of her head bobbing back and forth, had me on a hair trigger.

We emerged from the shower just as Nathalie arrived with our lunch. It didn't take a genius to figure out what was happening, and she wasn't stupid. She grinned, set down the food tray, and left.

We spent the afternoon blocking the bedroom scenes while the crew prepared to film in the bathroom. There would be two scenes: one immediately following the bathroom scene and another, supposedly on the day, of us having sex and then laying together afterwards.

The first struck me as simple enough: one person leads another by the hand into a bedroom, they kiss and lie down. I lost track of how many times we did it until Pierre, Erick, and Fred were happy.

I could understand that the second scene was harder to film. Jacqueline and I had to simulate sex, which meant a lot more movement. Pierre wanted shots to be as long as possible but without being too explicit.

We started with me going down on her. At least, I pretended to. My face was an inch or less from her pussy. I could see every hair on her crotch, I could smell her arousal, a fraction closer and I could have touched her clit with my tongue. But I didn't; I stuck with the agreement we had made. I held the position whilst the team fussed around us, discussing lighting and camera angles.

Next was Jacqueline appearing to give me a blowjob. She was close enough for me to feel her hair swish against my thighs and her breath on my cock. How actors don't get hard in such a situation is beyond me; I was not professional. Her caveat about holding my cock out of the way kicked in.

Then, we had to fake intercourse. Pierre wanted three positions: missionary, spooning from behind, and doggy. I was hard pretty much all the time.

"Don't worry, it's OK," she whispered to me.

As much as possible I hid the evidence between the cheeks of her arse, but everybody in the room must have known.

Finally, Pierre let us go. Marie handed me a robe, but I didn't bother putting it on. I was fed up with the pretence, I had a hard-on, and they all knew it, so why hide it? 'Bold Adam' was making the decisions.

"I can help you with that," she whispered, "there's a trick."

I nodded, half expecting her to give me a blowjob on the spot. Instead, she carefully gripped the shaft of my penis, just below the head, and gently squeezed until my erection began to weaken.

"Thanks," I gasped in amazement.

"I can do that again tomorrow if you need."

Jacqueline had been watching. "That girl is amazing; she can give you an erection and then take it away. I will have to get her to teach me how to do that. Might be useful with a few actors I know."

We were all horny. Nathalie drove us back to the hotel as fast as possible. The sex was inevitable. We only just made it to Jacqueline's suite before the clothes started to come off. They were all gone by the time we reached the bed, collapsing in a heap of bodies and limbs. I didn't know where to start.

Nathalie solved that for me by sticking her pussy in my face.

~

Wednesday, the first time we would be filming an intimate scene. Jacqueline wanking me in the bathroom. We had blocked out the moves on Saturday, we had talked about them with Pierre and Erick, we had discussed them ourselves. Now it was real. I was nervous.

I was about to stand naked in front of a group of relative strangers and masturbate, and then a beautiful woman, also naked, was going to join in. The original plan was for a standalone shot of fake sperm, fired from a turkey baster, landing on the porcelain, but Pierre had decided that it would be better if Jacqueline and me were in the frame too. That meant somebody had to crouch down next to us. Marie was keen to volunteer.

It seemed so straightforward but filming it in such a confined space was a challenge. Especially when the aim was to appear 'realistic' but without being 'explicit'. I started by pretending to wank, but apparently it wasn't convincing. 'Too fast', 'too slow', 'too exaggerated', 'too calm'. I was starting to understand how Goldilocks felt.

"Cherie, do it for real. Nobody will mind." Jacqueline suggested. Reluctantly I took her advice. Gently playing with myself as Fred and Erick positioned and repositioned their equipment. I was finding it hard to stay hard, but that wasn't necessary. It just had to look realistic from behind.

Jacqueline, of course, had no qualms about touching me when it was her turn. With a beautiful actress standing naked behind me, her hand on my dick, I was soon very hard indeed.

Inevitably I came, shooting sperm over the porcelain and up the mirror. I was embarrassed but there was a small cheer from the crew members present. Nathalie wiped away the mess, Fred adjusted the camera, and we carried on as if nothing unusual had happened.

~

At last, Pierre called an end to shooting for the day. We put on our robes and headed for the trailer. It wasn't easy with so many people and so much equipment in a small space. Unfortunately, Jacqueline tripped on one of the cables and fell against a door frame, gashing her head. Almost instantly there was blood everywhere.

Pierre and Nathalie took Jacqueline to hospital. When they returned to the hotel a couple of hours later, she had stitches in the wound, and a serious headache.

In case of possible concussion, we agreed that one of us would stay by her bed all night. Nat took the first shift whilst Marie and I went to my room. Because of the door connecting it to Jacqueline's suite it made sense for us to share my bed.

We got into bed without much ceremony; it had been a tough day. Marie snuggled up to me. She had touched me often on set and had given me a quick blowjob in the tiny shower, but this was the first time that I had been able to respond properly. Her slim, taut body was a delight to explore. The sex was slow and comforting; just what we needed.

When I awoke later that night Nathalie was beside me. I was momentarily confused, then remembered that we were taking turns to watch Jacqueline. It was time for my shift, so I slipped out of bed as quietly as I could.

~

Thursday morning started slowly. We had to wait for a doctor to check Jacqueline before she was allowed to get up. To everyone's relief he declared her fit to work, but warned we should take it easy. Completing shooting before the weekend was going to be tough.

When we finally started shooting, we were nearly two hours behind schedule. Everyone was on edge. We began with a less strenuous scene: Jacqueline and I lying side by side, supposedly after sex. Pierre wanted some takes with us both fully exposed, with her hand on my cock, and others where we were covered with a bedsheet.

With all the lights it was hot in the bedroom. Between takes Marie would wipe the sweat off us and retouch our make-up.

The next scene was us having sex in missionary position. Of course, it was supposed to be simulated, but even with crew watching, I was getting aroused. I didn't want to penetrate Jacqueline in front of them, so I tried to hide it between our bellies or down the crack of her arse. Both solutions did not help me get things under control. More than once I saw a smirk from her face.

As the day wore on, I cared less and less about modesty or decorum. I didn't try to hide my erection. They all knew that I had one so what did it matter if they saw it? If it was caught on film then Pierre would just have to cut it out. My only concern was to not embarrass Jacqueline.

She had other ideas.

Whether she had stopped caring like me, or was feeling particularly daring, on one take she reached down to direct my cock inside her. I caught her eyes, she nodded it and whispered, "do it".

I didn't need a second invitation to start thrusting into her. Without caring what was seen by the crew, or captured on film, I gradually increased the speed and strength of my efforts. Worked up by the day of pretending to fuck I let everything go. It didn't take long. I came strongly, feeling Jacqueline reach her peak at the same time.

We lay together shuddering.

Pierre called "cut".

Somebody on the crew applauded.

Marie covered us with a sheet while the crew cleared the room; a quiet buzz of conversation amongst them.

After a while we stirred, staggering to our feet as Marie wrapped us in our robes. With wobbly steps we stumbled downstairs and out to our trailer where Nathalie was waiting for us. Apart from Vicki and Marie she would not let anybody else, including Pierre, in.

Slowly we regained our composure.

Jacqueline gave me a wicked grin, "that's done it!"

I nodded in return.

After a shower and now dressed in our own clothes Nathalie drove us back to the hotel. Where she finally let Pierre in, but he was speechless. 'Wow' was all that he could manage.

~

Next morning, the last scheduled day of filming, seemed like the previous normality but there was a different atmosphere on set. Nobody sure what would happen today. The final scenes, oral sex on each other. Would it be for real? Or the expected simulation?

Not even Jacqueline or I knew the answer. It turned out to be a bit of both; mostly fake but some reflecting our status as real-life lovers. We tried to mask the real stuff as much as possible, but I am sure that it wasn't completely hidden.

Faking sex with Jacqueline was frustrating. I wanted to do it for real. I wanted our time on set to be over, to be back in the hotel with her and Nathalie, perhaps Marie too. But Pierre kept going us going; over and over.

When he called 'cut' for the last time I was relieved. It was finished.

Marie handed us our robes and we trooped out to the caravan as we had done all week. Showered and dressed we went back to the hotel to prepare for the 'wrap' party.

~

With all the cast, bar the two of us already gone, it was mainly a cast affair. We were the focus of much attention: sly glances, whispered conversations.

"I hope I haven't screwed your career," I said quietly to Jacqueline.

"Don't worry, probably the opposite. A bit of gossip and rumour is good for publicity," she grinned back.

At an appropriate moment we slipped away upstairs, Nathalie not far behind.

The next morning was a treat. No call sheet, no alarm. No lines to learn, no read-through. No rehearsal, no costume-fitting. Nothing except relaxation and packing.

Relaxation took priority. Energetic, sweaty, relaxation.

~

Next morning, Sunday, we bade farewell to Brittany, Nathalie driving. At Rennes airport, after a group hug and many kisses, they headed for Paris, whilst I caught my flight home.

Chapter 4 - Premiere

It was nearly a year since my three weeks filming on location in France. It seemed like longer. Since then, I had started at university, moved away from home, and had more experience of public nudity. Now I was returning to Paris for the Première.

I felt like I was travelling to another world. From one of many on campus to standing next to a famous actress on a red carpet outside a Paris cinema. Technically I was the male lead in the film but unquestionably Jacqueline was the star of the show. She would be the centre of attention, which I was grateful for.

Next to me on the plane was Imogen, a friend studying drama at Warwick University. I did not have regular girlfriend, so I invited her because of her interest in acting. She was thrilled.

"My friend Lesley thinks I am pulling her leg about going to Paris. She is convinced that I am going to be shagging some dirty old man in a seaside B&B.

"I hope there will be pictures to show her."

"It's a film Première; there will be pictures" I assured her.

"I can't believe that I am going to meet someone who nearly won an Oscar, and be on a red carpet, and... wow!" she trailed off.

"Thank you again for inviting me." She leaned over and kissed me.

She winked. "You'll get a proper thank you in Paris."

"I look forward to that," I told her solemnly.

At Charles de Gaulle airport there was a chauffeur holding up a sign with my name on it. He put our bags on a trolley and guided us to a large limousine waiting in a nearby parking area.

"I could get used to this," giggled Imogen.

"Pour vous, Monsieur" he said as he handed me an envelope.

I opened it when we were settled in the luxurious, leather seats.

"It's a letter from Jacqueline. There's a slight change of plan. She wants us to stay at her apartment instead of at a hotel."

Initially stunned, Imogen soon recovered "staying with a famous film star is a major change of plan."

About 45 minutes later we pulled up beside an imposing building on one of Paris's tree-lined boulevards. The chauffeur opened the car door for Imogen and a doorman ushered us inside.

In excellent English he said "please take the lift to the fifth floor, Ms Minou is expecting you. I will bring your luggage up in a moment."

We emerged onto a small landing with a single door which was opened immediately by a middle-aged Asian woman in a simple black dress.

"Please follow me," she announced.

Jacqueline was sat writing at an antique desk in a sun-drenched room.

"Welcome, Adam! "And you must be Imogen. Welcome to my home."

A peck on each cheek then a hug for us both.

Imogen was obviously a bit starstruck at first, but she opened up as Jacqueline asked a string of questions. Had she been to Paris before? Was she at university? What was she studying? But there was an awkward pause when she asked how long we had been going out together.

I stepped in.

"We are not really going out together, we're just good friends."

There was a flash of concern on Jacqueline's face, "I'm sorry, I assumed that you were. I will ask Yvonne to set up the second guest room."

I glanced at Imogen, "No need, we are very close," I emphasised the word, "and for the purpose of this trip we are girlfriend and boyfriend".

Immie nodded.

"Oh, c'est bonne!" Jacqueline exclaimed. "Why don't you freshen up and then we shall have lunch."

The meal was served on a roof terrace at the rear of the building. At first sight there was barely enough to keep a rabbit alive but Yvonne, the housekeeper, kept bringing more dishes.

"I know Adam is still growing man and he will need lots of energy this week," she said to Imogen with a conspiratorial wink.

Yvonne was back, but this time without any food. She whispered in Jacqueline's ear. Our hostesses face turned serious.

"Excuse, I must take this phone call; it sounds serious."

She did not look any better when she returned a few minutes later.

"That was Pierre. His brother was in a bad car accident last night near Marseilles.

"Pierre and Nathalie are at the hospital now. His brother is in surgery now. He doesn't know if they will be back for the Première. He will keep us informed."

I knew them both from the film. Pierre was the director and a close friend of Jacqueline's. Nathalie was his niece who had been a production assistant whom I had become close with. I had been looking forward to seeing them both again. We finished lunch in a sombre mood.

Afterwards we were joined by Xavier, a handsome young man of around my age, who was Jacqueline's assistant. Consulting a large leather-bound agenda, he took us through the itinerary for the week. The next two days were a series of back-to-back interviews with press and TV reporters; somebody from the PR department would brief me later today. We would have Thursday to get ready for the Première that evening.

"Voila!" cried Jacqueline, trying to lighten the mood. "This afternoon we will get you two properly outfitted for Thursday.

"Xavier, please ask Jean-Pierre to bring the car round in 30 minutes. I will take Imogen, and you will look after Adam; you know where to go."

The studio had told me that they would organise clothes for us. It made sense, Parisian Haute Couture would beat a student budget every time. Besides, I knew Imogen would love the experience.

It was a squeeze in the car, but the journey was short. We stopped just off the Avenue Champs-Élysées. The girls went into a shop with a single dress in the window while Xavier led me a little further down the street then through an un-marked door and up a flight of stairs.

Two immaculately dressed men were obviously expecting us. The room was lined with rolls of material and shelves of sample books. After checking my measurements, they led me to a free-standing rail with several outfits on hangers.

"For the Première we have a choice of suits, do you have a preference?"

I couldn't see myself in the mid-blue number, so I pointed at the light grey one.

"Can I try that?"

"Of course, sir. I suggest this shirt with that suit. The changing room is behind you."

A collarless shirt would not be my choice, but back in the main room I had to confess that the combination looked good. One of the tailors made notes while his colleague fussed about me, checking that the fit was perfect.

Then we moved on to more casual wear for the press interviews: two pairs of trousers, two shirts, and a jacket were chosen for me, largely by Xavier in consultation with the tailors. After a discussion about which items needed to be delivered when we headed back to the street.

Our next stop was a shoe shop where I ended up with a pair of tasselled loafers that Xavier thought would go well with all three outfits. We took those away with us. At no point did I see any money change hands.

"We're done," he said.

"I guess you'd like a beer. You English guys always want beer," he grinned.

"Thanks, I don't think I could have taken much more of that."

"Oui, you looked like you might make a run for it at any moment."

I was starting to warm to him.

We drank a couple of beers at an outdoor café, watching the crowds of tourists as they explored the sites.

"How did you end up working for Jacqueline?" I asked.

"Through my father, he's an agent. He heard she was looking for someone and suggested me.

"I would like to get into the same business as him, so this is a good way to see how someone like her behaves, and maybe make some contacts too.

"Do you need an agent?"

I laughed, "strictly speaking, I already have one back in the UK. In any case I am not interested in acting career. But Imogen is, you should speak to her."

Fabienne, the woman from PR, was waiting for us at apartment.

"I am sorry," said Xavier, "I lost track of time."

"Don't worry, I am early" replied Fabienne, clearly not happy.

"Is Imogen not here?"

"Still shopping I assume, is that a problem?" I answered.

"Non, I need to speak to her too but that can be later.

"So, we have two days of press and TV interviews. Those will be at a hotel nearby. The journalists will come in one by one. You and Jacqueline will be together, but I expect that mostly they will want to talk to her. But as an Englishman who speaks French you are a curiosity so expect some questions too.

"TV takes time to set up, so we'll do them in an adjacent room between press sessions.

"Each session is supposed to be 15 minutes max, but they always try to take longer. I will chase them out when their time is up.

"You will get the same questions multiple times, and some will be really stupid. After the first few times you will want to pull a face or give a silly answer. Don't. These are not conversations between friends that you can laugh about afterwards. Think of it as a performance. You are playing an actor. You aren't you.

"Think you can handle it?"

I nodded. At this point Jacqueline and Imogen returned, each with an armful of shopping bags.

"Ah, Fabi, are we late?" offered Jacqueline.

"No matter," she replied rather unctuously. The star could do no wrong it seemed.

"But I still need to brief Adam and Imogen together."

"OK, give her a moment."

Five minutes later the two of us were sat together facing Fabienne.

"When you are on the red carpet you can expect questions about your relationship. 'How did you meet?', "How long have you been going out?', that sort of thing. You don't have to answer any of them but if you do make sure that you give the same answer.

"Imogen, you may also get questions about how you feel about your boyfriend being naked with a beautiful actress. Again, you don't have to answer. If you do then something like 'he was just doing his job'.

"I understand that you don't speak French."

Immie shook her head.

"Then it is easy not to answer. Stick to 'bonsoir' and 'merci'. Smile and wave a lot. Your role for the night is 'bimbo'. Can you manage that?"

Imogen laughed, "I have just been rehearsing Portia at university, I think 'bimbo' is within reach."

"Definitely not type-casting then," offered Fabienne with a smile; the first I had seen from her.

Dinner that night was a simple noodle dish cooked by Yvonne, eaten on the terrace. Like lunch it was interrupted by a phone call from Pierre. In the circumstances it was probably as good as it could be.

"His brother is out of immediate danger but will need more surgery in the coming days. Pierre may come back but Nathalie will probably stay."

It had been a long day for Imogen and me, so we were soon in bed. As we snuggled together, she stroked my cock.

"Thank you again for bringing me. Business class flights, chauffeured car, shopping with a film star; Jennie or Kate or any of your other girlfriends would have loved it just as much."

"I know they would. But I brought you because there is just a chance that it might help your career in some way. Anyway, I remember you saying something about a reward."

Imogen grinned then positioned herself to take my cock in her mouth. While she worked, I thought back to Jacqueline's comment about me needing 'lots of energy this week'; what did she mean by that? Did she have something in mind?

"I want you inside me, now," said Immie, as she mounted me in 'cowgirl'.

That brought me back to the present in a hurry.

"What are you smiling at?"

"I'm smiling because there's a beautiful woman riding my cock."

"Not thinking about the rather beautiful actress that we are staying with? I wouldn't blame you if you were. I rather fancy her myself."

This was unexpected.

"Are you into girls then?"

"Maybe," teased Imogen.

"It's the way she says my name, sort of like 'Imozhen'. Sounds really sexy."

Time to be bold. "It does, but you haven't really answered my question."

"Going to university is an opportunity for young people to explore their interests," she intoned in a pompous manner.

"Sounds like 'yes' to me.

"Would you like her to kiss you? Do you want her tongue in your mouth? Her fingers in your pussy?"

Imogen was very turned on now.

"I know she likes girls too. It's probably why we are staying here. She wants to fuck you.

"Would you like that?"

That was enough. Her vagina clamped around me as she orgasmed. The extra pressure did for me, and I came inside her. She collapsed on top of me.

Next morning Imogen asked if I meant it about Jacqueline liking girls.

"Nah, I was just saying it to get you turned on."

But Immie wasn't convinced.

"You know something, don't you?"

"Just gossip from the set."

After breakfast Jacqueline and I walked to the hotel where the interviews would be. Fabienne was waiting in the lobby to take us to the meeting rooms. We had a couple of press interviews first, then one for TV. Before each session she briefed us on who the journalist worked for.

As expected, they focussed on Jacqueline with occasional questions directed at me, mostly in French. I stuck to simple answers without much detail. In the press sessions I could tune out but for TV I had to look interested, which I found quite hard to do. I began to understand Fabienne's advice about playing a part.

The final interview of the day was with someone called Jean Le Saux, a late replacement for the normal reporter from Agence France Press. From the moment he opened his mouth I was on guard. He was speaking French, but I could hear the trace of an accent. Then switched to English with a full-on Cockney accent.

"You are not from these parts, Mr Le Saux," I observed.

"Yes, London born and bred, but my father was from Paris, hence the name. Moved here when I got fed up with people assuming I was a girl. Anyway, we are here to talk about you and this film.

"A couple of the London papers are interested in the story of how an English schoolboy ended up in a soft-porn film with a beautiful French actress."

Fabienne's face was a picture of outrage.

"I think you have misunderstood the nature of the film Mr Le Saux. It is a coming-of-age story about two lonely people."

"But there is nudity, right?"

"Yes, like many other films."

"Full frontal nudity?"

"Perhaps. We were naked for some scenes, but I don't know if any of those are in the final cut."

I was trying to keep calm. It was a struggle.

"Is it true that you were a schoolboy at the time?"

"Perhaps technically; but it was my last year, I had finished my exams and there were no further classes. And, in case you are wondering, I was over 18."

"Is it true that Ms. Minou is your lover?"

Fabienne was spluttering apoplectically behind him.

"Yesterday was the first time that I have seen Jacqueline for 10 months. How often do you meet your lovers Mr Le Saux?"

He grinned.

"Is it true that the sex in the film is real?"

"Monsieur Le Saux, enough!" cried Fabienne.

Jacqueline leaned forward. "Acting is make-believe. The task of the whole cast and crew is to make the audience believe that what they are seeing is real. In this case it sounds as if we have done a good job.

"Thank you for your interest but I am afraid you have run out of time."

She stood and walked out; I followed her into the now-deserted TV room.

"What a little shit!" she exclaimed.

"Sorry, that's the British tabloids for you. Perhaps we should have anticipated it, although I am not sure we could have done anything about it. They write what want."

She looked at me seriously "I think you handled him very well."

"Thanks, but so did you. That answer was brilliant!"

Fabienne joined us, "I am so, so sorry. He won't be doing any interviews for us again!"

"You look like you need a drink," I told her.

Downstairs in the bar Fabienne swallowed a cognac and left in a hurry as she had to pick up her children. Jacqueline and I shared a bottle of white wine.

"You and Imogen make a lovely couple. Why don't you get together?"

I hesitated. "It's complicated. We are really good friends but my relationship with her mother makes it difficult."

"Does she hate you?"

"No, she doesn't. The thing is that I slept with her mother before I slept with Imogen."

Jacqueline snorted mid-way through a sip of wine.

Recovering her poise she asked, "Does she know?"

I nodded.

"OK, well, I am sure she can forgive an odd mistake."

My face gave me away. Light dawned on hers.

"It was more than once, wasn't it? Tell me, I want sordid details!"

Perhaps this was another time to be bold.

"It started two summers ago; before I met you. I knew Imogen though her best friend Jennie. Her mother, Frances, is a photographer who offered me some work as her assistant and, well, we ended up having sex. Several times.

"And last summer, so after I had met you, I worked for her again. And we had sex again. Several times.

"She also photographed me having sex with some of her clients."

"Merde! You are a dark horse, Adam. And Imogen knows all this?"

"No. She guessed about her Mum and me quite early on, but she doesn't know how often, or about the clients."

She laughed loudly, "where is Monsieur Le Saux when I need him?"

I was panicking now.

"Don't worry, I won't tell anyone. You were discrete about us, and I am grateful for that.

"Still, it's a pity about you and Imogen."

"She fancies you; you know?"

Jacqueline smiled, "I thought so. Anyway, we must not keep her waiting."

Dinner was at a small restaurant close to the apartment. The three of us and Xavier. He had escorted Imogen around Paris during the day, and she was keen to share what she had seen: the Eiffel tower, the Arc de Triomphe, Sacre-Coeur, and some of the other famous sights.

"And tomorrow we are going to the Louvre," she beamed. "Jacqueline, thank you for everything; I am having such a great time!"

It was impossible not to join in Imogen's delight.

When we left the restaurant Xavier bid us farewell, and we walked back. Upstairs Imogen flung her arms around Jacqueline and repeated her thanks. Then, something happened. The embrace changed from friendly to amorous. There was no word, no sign, but it was obvious. I knew it, they knew it. Within moments they were kissing, first full on the lips; then mouths open, tongues probing. Their hands roamed, touching, feeling, undressing.

They staggered towards the master suite, discarding clothing as they went. I collected it as I followed them. I had seen Jacqueline with Nathalie, but this was more intense.

In her room Jacqueline pushed Imogen backwards onto the bed, then dived between her legs. The cry of delight told me she had found her target.

I sat on a chair, trousers round my ankles, watching them.

Jacqueline looked over her shoulder and waggled her arse at me; the instruction was clear. I stripped completely and positioned myself behind her. The angle was a bit awkward, but I managed to push my cock inside her pussy and strike up a rhythm.

I could see from her face that Imogen was enjoying this. She opened her eyes and mouthed 'thank you' to me. I love pleasing women and at that moment I was pleasing two.

Jacqueline decided to change position. She indicated that I should penetrate Immie while she positioned her cunt above the younger woman's head. Now we were face to face. We grinned at each other. If Jean Le Saux could see us now!

Understandably Imogen came first, I was second. We turned our attention to hostess. I played with Jacqueline's clit and nipples whilst Immie went down on her. It wasn't long before a deep moan echoed around the room.

After a cursory clean-up we regrouped in bed, quickly falling asleep.

I awoke to find both women playing with my morning hard-on. Is there a better start to the day?

Unfortunately, there wasn't enough time to make use of my erection. After a quick shower and breakfast Jacqueline and I headed back to the hotel for another round of interviews.

Fortunately, none were as intrusive as the one with Jean Le Saux, and Fabienne was quick to step in any time she thought the questions were straying off-piste. There was good news too. At lunch time we heard that Pierre would be travelling back from Marseilles the next morning so he could attend the Première. But understandably, Nathalie was going to stay with her father, so she would not be there.

That evening there was a dinner for all the cast and crew who had been invited to the Première. As producer Andre was the host, but Pierre's absence weighed heavily so the event was quiet and finished early.

Of course, that suited the three of us. Back at the apartment we did not waste any time before getting into bed together. Somehow, we started in a three-way 69, if there is such a thing. Imogen was eating Jacqueline, she was blowing me, and I was eating Immie. Fortunately, the bed was large enough for us to do this laying on our sides.

After a while we switched so that I was fucking Jacqueline who was eating Imogen, while I kissed her. I think. We were moving around so much that I rather lost track of where my dick was and whose face or pussy I was kissing. It was heaven.

Next morning we awoke in a tangle of limbs and sheets. Thank goodness we did not have an early start!

There was a knock at the door and Yvonne entered with a tray of juice, coffee and pastries which she placed on the bed with a cheery "bon jour!". If this was the first time that she had encountered such a scene then she deserved an Oscar herself.

Imogen and I headed for our room to shower and dress. It was our first chance to talk since Tuesday morning.

"Oh my god, Adam. I can't believe what has happened."

"Me neither. It's incredible. But are you sure you are OK with it?"

"Are you mental? Of course I am, it's been the best! Paris, Jacqueline, the sex. It's amazing. Thank you."

Back in the living room Yvonne asked if I wanted a 'proper breakfast with eggs and bacon'. I considered proposing marriage but settled for 'yes, please'.

What followed was a form of torture, at least for me. I submitted to a wet-shave and hair trim supervised by Xavier. I would have confessed to shooting JFK and faking the moon landings if it would have got me out of there quicker.

Back at the apartment the phone rang. It was Nathalie.

"Oh Adam, it is good to hear your voice. The last few days have been terrible. I am sorry that I won't be at the Première, but I need to be here."

I told her that we all understood and were thinking of her and her father. We agreed that, all being well, we would meet at her mother's house in England later in the summer.

It was a long time before Imogen and Jacqueline returned. By now Marie from the make-up department had arrived to work her magic, but before she was allowed to start Yvonne forced us to eat sandwiches and cakes on the grounds that... something... I wasn't listening. I was getting very nervous.

Finally, polished and primped to within an inch of our lives we climbed into a couple of limos. Xavier had been asked to look after Imogen, so they were in the first car, with Jacqueline and I behind. Theirs drove straight to the theatre but, as stars, we were expected to arrive last, so our car pulled over until a signal was received.

We stopped and I went around the car to help Jacqueline out. She looked stunning in a deep blue silk dress. Remembering what we had been doing the night before I lost focus for a moment. 'Play the role' I reminded myself.

"Are you OK?" she asked quietly.

"Yes, thanks. A bit overwhelmed by you, by the situation."

She smiled, "you'll be fine. Follow my lead and remember how we kicked Le Saux's butt."

Jacqueline took my arm and guided me towards the reporters lining the red carpet. The questions were innocuous and the flashes relentless. Basically, I could ignore them. She was the star; I was the supporting act.

We worked our way along the line and up the steps. At the top we posed for more photos: together, separately, and then Imogen joined me for some of us together.

At last, we were seated. There was a fanfare, and Pierre took to the stage, a microphone in his hand. He thanked everyone for coming, he thanked the Andre and the backers, the whole cast and crew, and especially Jacqueline and me. Then the titles rolled.

It was a strange experience. Although we had largely shot in chronological sequence it was good to see all the scenes in order. Also, I was pleased at how my reaction shots to things filmed before I arrived fitted in. But then there was me. Hearing yourself is a bit weird, but seeing yourself, especially more than twice life-size, was bizarre. Even worse was that my penis appeared bigger, and more often, than I anticipated.

Imogen was giggling beside me. "Doesn't get that big for me," she whispered in mock disappointment.

Watching myself was just too weird, so I did not really take in the film. I assumed that polite applause was the norm for a Première, but the audience responded with what I thought was genuine enthusiasm. Pierre re-appeared on stage then called Jacqueline and me up too. There were a few questions, and we all received bouquets. Then there were drinks with some special guests, followed by talk of moving on to a nightclub but we declined that.

Finally, it was over. We piled into one car for the journey back. Yvonne was waiting with champagne and snacks. Also waiting were parcels for Jacqueline and me. Inside each were two video cassettes labelled 'Film' and 'Outtakes'. Imogen demanded to watch the latter, so Xavier set it going.

First there were clips of us pulling funny faces and fooling around between takes then, after a period of static, it became more grown-up. There was a shot slowly panning up Jacqueline's naked body while she lay on a sun lounger, which was slightly creepy, then one of me laying back semi-erect.

Next was a close-up of a hand wanking a cock over a washbasin. No faces were visible, but it was obviously Jacqueline and me in the bathroom. They had been constantly moving the cameras, so it was no great surprise that they had caught this.

"Oh, wow!" breathed Imogen.

The camera moved again. It was the same setting: Jacqueline reaching around from behind me to wank my cock. In the film they had used a shot from her waist up, but this was from further back and made it clear that she was naked.

Then there was a funny clip: a wide-angle shot where Marie was crouching beside me with the turkey baster full of fake semen ready to simulate me ejaculating into the bowl. Her eyes were at the level of my dick, and she was paying close attention. When the signal came from Pierre I pretended to come, and she squeezed the bulb sending a thick spout across the porcelain and up the wall behind. They included an angle from high over my shoulder where you could see Marie's face in the mirror as she worked the illusion.

"Wait," Imogen gasped, "is that the woman who did my make-up this afternoon?"

"Yes, we were short-handed that day, so she volunteered to help." I explained.

Jacqueline sniggered, "nobody could have stopped her!"

The next clips were from the bedroom. There were several of me partly or fully erect, some in which Jacqueline and I were touching each other intimately, and then one where you could clearly see that I was penetrating her.

The atmosphere in the room was electric.

"Let's all go to bed," Jacqueline announced, "mine is big enough for everyone."

We all followed her to the spacious room where, after a whispered conversation with Jacqueline, Imogen asked Xavier to undress her. Clearly, our hostess was my responsibility.

I stepped in front of the gorgeous actress who smiled warmly at me. Leaning forward I kissed her on the lips; they parted allowing my tongue to engage hers. I wrapped my arms around her searching for the fastenings that I needed to release. It wasn't too hard to find them - a hook and a zip where the dress plunged to the small of her back - but I didn't rush to remove the dress. Instead, I slipped my hands inside it seeking her bum, pulling her against my erection.

It was Jacqueline who slipped the dress off her shoulders and stepped back so that it could fall away from her body. She looked amazing. Her breasts hung free; no bra would work with that dress. All she was wearing now were white stockings and a suspender belt with the briefest of knickers. It was a magnificent sight.

I dropped to my knees, pulling down her panties to reveal the neatly shaven patch of hair above her pussy. What I had done to deserve this was beyond me, but I knew what I had to do next.

Jacqueline's perfume and the scent of her growing excitement was a heady combination as I nuzzled against her pubes. I inhaled deeply then my tongue sought her clitoris, already peeking out from the surrounding flesh. I teased it with using all the tricks that I had learnt over the last two years.

Her hands pulled me closer and pushed me lower. I licked her labia from top to bottom, and back. I drew them individually into my mouth, gently grazing each with my teeth. I spread my lips wide to engulf them all, pushing my tongue into her vagina. Jacqueline was quivering with pleasure, grasping my hands for support.

"Fuck me now!" she insisted, flopping back across the bed. I stripped off then joined her. 'Missionary' was quickest, easiest choice. Soon I was driving hard and fast into her. Beside us Xavier was doing the same for Imogen.

For a moment I reflected on the fact that another man was screwing my nominal girlfriend, but how was it any different to her and Jacqueline the night before? It was for Imogen to choose who she had sex with.

I focussed on Jacqueline. We changed position, her on her knees so that I could fuck her doggy-style, then cowgirl. Her moans and cries echoing around the room, merging with Imogen's beside us. A guttural grunt from Xavier indicated that he had come too, just as I did too.

We formed a sweaty heap of bodies on the bed. It was unclear where one couple ended and the other started. I rolled to one side, Xavier to the other. While we recovered our breath the girls turned towards each other, kissing and touching enthusiastically.

When I felt able to go again, I gestured to Xavier, suggesting that we should switch partners. He nodded.

I cuddled up behind Imogen, my erect penis pushing against her arse, its tip seeking her cunt. She responded, wriggling back against me, reaching round to pull me closer. We shuffled around so I could enter her completely.

This time was calmer, more considered, more thoughtful. I brought her to climax a couple of times before I came again myself. Knowing that would be the last time that evening, I let myself go and was soon fast asleep.

~

Next morning I was woken by a gentle shake of my shoulder. It was Yvonne.

"Time to get up, monsieur.

"Madam is in her shower, so I suggest you use the one next door. Breakfast will be on the terrace."

Epilogue

Imogen and I flew home that afternoon, ignorant of the storm that awaited us. As we walked through the arrivals area at Birmingham airport, I spotted a man holding up a sign with my name on it and altered course towards him.

"Adam, Imogen, we need to get you out of here. I'm Jim, the guy that drove you here on Monday. Do you remember me? The boss sent me to pick you up because he was afraid the paparazzi might butt in.

"There's story about you in one of the tabloid papers this morning," he explained.

When we were settled in the car Jim handed us a copy of 'The Sun'. On the front page, next to a story about a minor royal was picture of me on the red carpet under the headline 'English Schoolboy stars in French Porn Film'. The by-line was Jean Le Saux.

"Shit!" I exclaimed as I scanned through the article

It was a confection of the things he had asked about on Tuesday, selected parts of our answers, and a whole lot of speculation. It was a typical for a British tabloid. Fortunately, Imogen was only referred to indirectly; she was not named or pictured. I hoped that it stayed that way. We dropped her in Warwick then Jim took me back to Oxford.

"Call your family ASAP and keep your head down. Tell them to say nothing to those scum."

Leaving my bag in my room then headed for the phone at the end of our corridor to call Mum. It turned out that she knew nothing about the article, so explaining it was a bit embarrassing, but she took it calmly and promised to say nothing.

Luckily for me, the Sunday papers were full of articles about a famous soap actor who had been arrested with a lot of cocaine, and the journalists moved on. I could not escape the jokes and comments on campus, but it was mostly good natured.

Happily, the British press coverage sparked some attention in the French papers; consequently, Seuls Ensemble did very well at the box office.

Thank you for reading this far.

Please rate and comment. Constructive criticism is particularly welcome.

There will be more stories about Adam in this series, and you can read about some of his other adventures in 'Adam in Asia'.