The only movement were their hands and arms as they drew or painted the life model who was a pale young girl, he guessed about eleven or twelve. It was an art group doing what they do legitimately. One of Jon's friends was an art student and he often told him ribald tales of the various models they have to study, he likes a dirty quip about them as well as seeing them as the professional model. He had mentioned that they get many ancient old male and female dears to pose and right down to art students themselves, in their late teens and upwards, trying to raise a bit of cash, but never had he mentioned one so young as this girl. Of course she wouldn't be a professional.

She was stunning even with the cute round spectacles, with long blonde hair cascading near to her waist. Over one shoulder her hair was swept back, over the other it partly masked a breast which was not only a puppy fat mound but definite development. The girl was of a statuesque build, rounded shoulders and arms, a slightly billowing tummy and a pouting hairless pudenda. Her thighs were full and her knees dimpled. Her ankles were a little thick.

Jon's view of her was clear but a considerable distraction was the view of one of the ladies at the far side, facing him. She was sat at an easel, he couldn't see much of her upper half apart from the times she peered round her canvas. Her loose floral skirt was hitched up over her knees, which were splayed wide and between those very thin thighs he had a perfect view of her white knickers.

Jon got his camera out and started to take some shots of the girl and the upskirt, not using flash of course, zooming with the powerful lens he had invested in. He recognised one face, a female villager, apart from Libby Taylor, whose photo featured in the newspaper article. Jim, the owner of the house was nowhere to be seen. The group stopped their activities and there was a lot of stretching and chat and he noticed the model, having had a word with Mrs Taylor, seemed to be saying goodbyes to the group before she left by a door to the left.

She passed a large, distinguished looking black dressed in a robe and they smiled and acknowledged each other in the doorway as he entered. He settled on a stool and shed his robe and readied himself for a session of posing. Jon got a glimpse of his under carriage noting it was not a large one. The lady with the skirt had moved from her position and Jon scanned the other females, who were all in jeans or trousers and none of them were displaying cleavage, so he decided to resume his research of this house, by slipping through the soft bushes to the next enormous expanse of brilliantly lit window.

Luckily it was the room the girl had removed to and she was smiling at a fully dressed Jim Taylor who was on the phone, returning her smile as she started to pick up what looked to be her clothes. She was still naked and seemingly at ease and then dumped the garments and wandered round the room returning to his side, now seemingly bored and impatient. It was instinct that made Jon get the camera out and start the video. They were about fifteen feet away from him. She moved really close to Jim and he turned his back on her. She gave a grimace of impatience and moved right up to his back and then put her hand round his hips. Jim recoiled with surprise and anger, gesturing about the phone, his eyes furious, his hips in reverse as if away from her hand. Again she moved in, Jon was getting all this on video and now had a lovely view of her rotund buttocks.

He watched her put a hand on the old mans crotch and he nearly dropped the phone and pushed her away, where she stumbled against a small chair. Recovering she started to speak and in exasperation he ended the phone call and started to argue with her, pointing to the room where the artists were. Undeterred, she sauntered towards him and he backed off, looking really terrified and glancing at the door to the adjacent room. Too late, he was backed up against a bookshelf and she grabbed his groin again. This was amazing footage, to see a juvenile proposition an adult male of not tender years and him not enjoying it.

Jon watched Jim's eyes roll, his head flung back, mouth hanging open, but not retaliating as her hand went down inside his chinos. He couldn't hear any voices, the glossy architect designed building no doubt well insulated. Her hand roamed inside for a while until he finally pushed her away, angry words were between them until the interconnecting door open and Libby marched in. Arms were raised, fingers pointed at each other, at the next room as the youngster sulked whilst getting dressed.

Libby marched back to her art, Jim following and Jon watched her go another pile of clothes rifling the pockets and taking some bank notes from a wallet, stuffing them in her tight jeans. He guessed these were the black model's clothes. Not only was the little girl a Lolita but also a thief, but who was she? Finally she wandered back into the artist's area and slouched on a bean bag, getting a few remarks from the group.

He decided there wouldn't be much more action, so slid along to a couple of other large windows. Neither rooms were brightly lit but it was easy to see they were bedrooms and one seemed more lived in than the other with a couple of low lights at each side of huge bed. He guessed this maybe the master bedroom and made a plan.

The following day was the usual, some training, paperwork, some gym work and then down time at home. His mother and father went up to London for Uncle Sachin's investiture, so after Mrs Goodbody the cleaner and sometimes cook finished work having left Jon a shepherds pie to heat up later, he retired to his room to catch up on the video recordings of aunt aunt and cousin.

Having seen their brief but revealing evening rituals of toilet and cleaning teeth, he opened more of the thirty minute segments, many of which showed nothing, but had been activated by noises. It would only take a snore, cough or fart from aunty or cousin to activate the camera and he was used to this, so he trawled through several sections until one kicked in with the bedroom flooded with light. Jon recalled his impatience down at breakfast that day and the anticipation caused by Jasmine's youthful, smoky skinned beauty.