I remember him catching my wrist. I remember a kiss.

By rayen lazghab on Unsplash

Julie couldn’t help it. After her brief dalliance with the charming, carefree, married Henry Aston, he was well and truly under her skin. Mr. and Mrs. Aston were only out of town for a couple of weeks when reality sank in—little Julie Ho was just a summer fling.

Here’s how it all turned out in the end. What happened when the Astons got back from their road trip. What happened after a chance meeting in a cocktail bar on the other side of town. And what happened when Henry finally introduced Julie to his wife…

Excerpt from About Her by JL Peridot:

I don’t recall everything as well as I’d like. I remember the lights not working. I remember my bra hook getting caught in my hair. And I remember Henry’s socks. Now, I hate the sock thing as much as the next girl, but I remember telling him to keep them on. I liked that they were a gift from his wife.

I remember looking up with him kneeling over me, my knees over his shoulders, his arms around my waist, and his face between my legs. His tongue worked sharp, soft, textured, slow, then fast in just the right place. I was drunk, I was numb and warm and scattered and helpless in his grasp. Every muscle in my body tense with anticipation. I was on the edge—right on the fucking edge—ready to go over. But then he pulled away.

“God, why—”

“Not yet.”

Henry opened the window. The night breeze rolled through the room, cooling my skin. My nipples tightened from the sudden chill—I love how they look when they get that way. I hoped to see them cast on the wall, but that detail was lost in the shadows. And with a flick of a switch, those shadows went too, the only light now coming from outside, teasing the contours of Henry’s taught body and magnificent cock as he stood by the bedside lamp.

He shoved the bed against the window. Effortless. This guy was stronger than he looked. When he was done, I leaned across the bed and ran my fingers down his abs. I remember him catching my wrist. I remember a kiss.

Read the rest of About Her

About Her, the long-awaited follow-up to About Henry, is available on Vocal.

UPDATE 08/2021: You can find both About Henry and About Her in the novella release of About Henry.

Woman stands by the window in a hotel room. Text reads: "About Her"

More steam down here

This post is part of a blog hop. Check out the other posts in this steamy event:


#MFRWsteam mfrwsteam.blogspot.com

About Her — an erotic short story

About Her is now out of my hands and into the world.

Thank you for waiting for this story, and for voicing your support on Twitter and Insta while I was agonising over the draft. Every manuscript somehow manages to be a psychological and emotional trip to hell and back—yeah, even happy stories. The creative process can be such a B.

Thank you for reading About Henry when it came out in the CapriLuxe Chronicles. I hope you enjoy this denouement of Julie Ho’s little adventure.

Woman stands by the window in a hotel room. Text reads: "About Her"

Special shoutouts to my partner for always rooting for me and taking me to all the lovely places Julie and Henry visited around Perth; to my editor Charlie Knight for the personal attention and care she gave this story; to the indelible Autumn Faraday for her inspiring CapriLuxe creation; to the amazingly talented authors who I’m honoured to have been featured alongside; and to you, yes you, for reading and writing with me 💜

Status Update — Mar 2020

I haven’t been writing as much as I’d hoped. A week-long trip to Japan in the middle of February waylaid a lot of plans. In the days before flying out, I had my first major bout of pre-travel anxiety. Seriously my first since… say, childhood? Not even last year’s longer, less familiar UK trip did that.

It’s all this mania over COVID-19. I wasn’t scared of catching it, though. The WHO Situation Reports—just facts, nothing more—did a great job of curbing that stress. My fear was that I’d get caught up in some sort of racist panic on the way home and get sent to off-shore quarantine.

I mentioned this to a few of my friends, but I don’t know if many of them understood what that feeling is like. Heck, I never understood what that’s like until now. If I’ve ever had real actual racism levelled at me before, I sure wasn’t savvy enough to pick it. Live and learn, hey?

Getting home, having the customs officers be friendly and nice as I rolled straight through, and then seeing N waiting for me in Arrivals was such a relief. And this is me, a white-collar Australian person, having a smooth and comfy ride all the way back to my white-collar life in a multicultural city. I think about people who have it way worse; realise that no matter how anxious I get, I will never even begin to fathom how much more anxious they must be.

Well, I’ve been home a few weeks now. And despite the low word count, I’ve managed to get a lot done. Here’s what…

This blog looks different…

IT SURE DOES. In preparation for the new website, this blog now has its own home and a new theme that does what I tell it to. In case you fancied it for your blog, it’s called Uncode and was worth every penny.

The new website…

…is coming. The whole process reminded me why I love web and why I changed careers. But it’s coming, friends. jlperidot.com will look different soon.

The Dragon’s Den

After chipping away at this manuscript, I’ve finally hit that scene. Every manuscript has one—the one that’s been over-thought to oblivion and now I just can’t even. Focusing on web stuff has been a good break, but I’ve done my soul searching and am almost ready to come back to it.

Camp NaNoWriMo

April’s camp is only three weeks away. I was tempted to skip this one, because of how much still to do ahead of the big event in July. But I have some things I’d like to write. Short stories, manuscripts, other things… so hey, let’s go camping.

Short Stories

About Her, the follow-up to About Henry, is coming back from my editor this week, with plans to go live on 6 April 2020. Watch this space.

I’m also working on a new short story: “MOAB”. It’s not romantic and not erotic, though the protagonist does get to have a fling. It’s been a long time since I’ve written something that’s not a love story. I have doubts about this draft, but will give it my best shot and see what happens.

Projects (still) on hold

  • Sunset on a Distant World
  • Project H

Self-care

As of last week, I started working from home as a precaution, just in time for a minor COVID-19 scare upon finding out that a friend went to get tested.

We were only in our self-imposed lockdown for a day before she forwarded the all-clear, but it did bring to light a few significant concerns to be mindful of if lockdown becomes a thing in Perth. Getting enough sunlight, for one. And exercise. Checking in with friends. And playing games with friends, because it’s important to have fun.

I’ve started writing for no reason again. As in, writing without intent to publish. I may publish them if they turn out all right, but that’s not the goal at this point. Sometimes it’s fun just to see how things go.

Reading

Night Life by B.K. Bass. Heart Stuck by Laina Ruff. True Refuge by Annabelle McInnes. And The Way Home by Stefanie Simpson… hnnnng, I promised myself I wouldn’t buy her amazing-sounding new release until I finish all the Simpson books I already have (but there’s a very good chance I’ll cave and buy it anyway).

Recently finished: The Devil’s Work by Demelza Carlton. Dead Town by Anthony D. Redden 💀

Watching

Parks & Recs. You. Terrace House: Boys & Girls in the City (again). Family Guy. Broad City.

Recently watched: The Naked Director (so good). Devilman Crybaby (awesome soundtrack).

Playing

Merchant RPG (pixel-art crack). Dead Cells (wonderful art style; try a turret build).

Recently on the socials…

Spring Buds — a microfic

Photo by Plush Design Studio on Pexels.com

As he bumbled over the tiny wound, she dropped the secateurs. Clumsy with roses, clumsy with words, this boy—and yet, such clever eyes. They matched the emblem on his varsity blazer.

Taken by the spring, she held his finger to her lips and sucked it. His voice faded into the rustling distance.

The clocktower bell rang the hour. She left him clean and pink-cheeked.

“You’d better get to class.”

“I’ll call you later.”

She smiled. “We’ll see.”

Hands on hips, she straightened her hat and turned back to her work. The bushes always looked a fright this time of year, but no matter. Something would bloom soon enough.

Originally published in Dot Club #14 (July 2019)

Fresh Find: Submitted to Housework by Stefanie Simpson — a free read

Loved this saucy and sweet flash story by Stefanie Simpson.

OK, so “saucy” is a bit of an understatement. Have a look for yourself…

I tapped the wooden arm of the bedroom chair, clicking my nails, watching.

The nude man on the other side of the room glided an iron across a freshly washed bed sheet. He neatly folded it and set it down on the perfectly placed pile next to him.

Bored, I got up, but he didn’t lift his face and started on a blouse. I stood next to him, steam rising, the smell of heated cotton and the vague scent of him close by made me want. I palmed his naked bottom, squeezing it, but he didn’t pause.

I leant right in, still feeling him. “You’re doing a terrible job.”

“Sorry, I’ll do better.”

“You say that every time. And yet you never improve. Bend.”

He hovered, the smallest doubt in his eyes as he turned his head slightly, but he obeyed. He held the ironing board and bent a little.

“More.”

His chest rose silently, and he went further. I pinched hard, making him tense.

“Ready?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

Read the rest…