Adam Jenks Jenkins’ carefree life as a small-time private investigator is about to get very complicated.
There’s something ‘off’ about his new client, but work is hard to come by in the Welsh town of Llanrhos, and the return is far above his usual paygrade. All he has to do is find a mystery woman and retrieve a set of sexually explicit photographs. Sounds easy. Too easy.
Jenks’ sanity is tested as the case drags him ever deeper into the dangerous world of Veronica Tailor, where blackmail, seduction and threats of violence run rife.
Even his home life is affected as his wife’s obsession with Veronica sends her libido into overdrive.
Will Jenks ever solve the case?
Will his wife become a lesbian?
Will he ever manage to get some sleep?
“How about a nice kiss?” she offered, and puckered her lips.
“A kiss? No deal. This photograph is dynamite. I’m going to need way more than a simple kiss.”
Kate frowned. “I did let you grope my boobs just now.”
“Sorry, the boob groping doesn’t count. That was then; this is now.” He scratched his chin and looked up at the ceiling as if he were wracking his brain. “How about a golden shower? Tie me up and piss all over my face.”
“Eww, Jenks, don’t be so gross.” She screwed up her face in disgust, like he knew she would. He smiled, pretending he was only joking, but deep down inside he wasn’t joking at all ‒ it was one of those depraved fantasies that would never see the light of day. “I’ll show you my tits, and you can lick my nips for ten seconds,” Kate continued, and teasingly lifted the hem of her vest as high as the underside of her breasts.
“Anal sex,” Jenks countered.
“No way, Jose.”
“I could insist – I could cash in my anal card.” Upstairs in his bedside locker he had a handmade voucher, signed by Kate, which offered dirty anal sex upon redemption. She gave it to him for Christmas in lieu of being able to afford a present.
“Anal takes ages, we don’t have time.” Kate leaned back in her chair. “How about I show you my tits and touch your willy?” She pulled her vest higher, almost revealing her nipples.
“Your boobs are like a gift from heaven, and I love them … I truly do. But I’m thinking that, if you want to persuade me to show you this highly sensitive and compromising document, I’m going to need something more.”
“Compromising? You never said it was compromising.” She closed her eyes, leaned her head back and pulled her vest hem slightly higher.
“Oh God, yes. It’s highly compromising. And did I mention it contains a graphic depiction of a sexual act?”
She tore her vest as high as her chin and pushed her shoulders back so her puffy pink nipples stood up hard as hell. “I have to see it.”
Jenks admired her tits. “I’m afraid I’m going to need a little more.”
“What do you mean more? You don’t mean?” She put on the coy act that always drove him crazy. “You don’t mean you want to look at my …” her big blue eyes glanced down at her groin, “… at my pussy?”
“I’m afraid I do, Mrs Jenkins. I’m afraid that if you’re going to insist on seeing this photograph, then I’m going to have to insist on seeing your pussy, spread wide open for my enjoyment.”
“Why, Mr Jenkins, you’re a beast.”
“That I am, Mrs Jenkins.”
She leapt to her feet. “Okay. You have a deal. Show me yours and I’ll show you mine.”
He ran to the hall to grab the manila envelope from his coat pocket. By the time he got back to the kitchen she had taken off her pyjama bottoms and was lying face down over the table. Jenks pulled out a chair and positioned himself so he could admire her delicious, naked, chubby rump and the space between her legs. Her delicate pussy lips protruded from her slit like a lazy, lolling tongue, but when she peeled them apart for his pleasure, they opened like butterfly wings to reveal a soft interior the colour of candyfloss. “How’s that?”
“That’s pretty damned good.” He leaned in for a closer inspection. Seeing things he wasn’t supposed to see turned Jenks on like nothing else. He was a visual person and could happily do nothing but look for hours on end without ever feeling the need to touch. His view right now was bordering on gynaecological: the glossy inner flesh of his wife’s most intimate place, the nub of her clit popping its nose out from its pink nest, the tiny eye of her piss hole, the twisted structural form of her vaginal walls and the puckered mouth of her anus. And the intoxicating aroma of cunt ‒ that spicy feminine musk reaching up through his nostrils into his brain like an invisible hand, gripping him and commanding him, luring him in. Pussy was the ultimate drug. Nothing in this world could send him higher or make him feel more alive.
“Hey! Earth to Jenks. Show me that picture, you fucker. We had a deal, remember?”
Without taking his eyes off her sparkling hole, he pushed the envelope into her grasping hand. There was a rustling of paper, a brief silence, an intake of breath, and then Kate exclaimed, “fucking hell!”
Buy Peeper as e-book or paperback at
Amazon US
Amazon UK
“A kiss? No deal. This photograph is dynamite. I’m going to need way more than a simple kiss.”
Kate frowned. “I did let you grope my boobs just now.”
“Sorry, the boob groping doesn’t count. That was then; this is now.” He scratched his chin and looked up at the ceiling as if he were wracking his brain. “How about a golden shower? Tie me up and piss all over my face.”
“Eww, Jenks, don’t be so gross.” She screwed up her face in disgust, like he knew she would. He smiled, pretending he was only joking, but deep down inside he wasn’t joking at all ‒ it was one of those depraved fantasies that would never see the light of day. “I’ll show you my tits, and you can lick my nips for ten seconds,” Kate continued, and teasingly lifted the hem of her vest as high as the underside of her breasts.
“Anal sex,” Jenks countered.
“No way, Jose.”
“I could insist – I could cash in my anal card.” Upstairs in his bedside locker he had a handmade voucher, signed by Kate, which offered dirty anal sex upon redemption. She gave it to him for Christmas in lieu of being able to afford a present.
“Anal takes ages, we don’t have time.” Kate leaned back in her chair. “How about I show you my tits and touch your willy?” She pulled her vest higher, almost revealing her nipples.
“Your boobs are like a gift from heaven, and I love them … I truly do. But I’m thinking that, if you want to persuade me to show you this highly sensitive and compromising document, I’m going to need something more.”
“Compromising? You never said it was compromising.” She closed her eyes, leaned her head back and pulled her vest hem slightly higher.
“Oh God, yes. It’s highly compromising. And did I mention it contains a graphic depiction of a sexual act?”
She tore her vest as high as her chin and pushed her shoulders back so her puffy pink nipples stood up hard as hell. “I have to see it.”
Jenks admired her tits. “I’m afraid I’m going to need a little more.”
“What do you mean more? You don’t mean?” She put on the coy act that always drove him crazy. “You don’t mean you want to look at my …” her big blue eyes glanced down at her groin, “… at my pussy?”
“I’m afraid I do, Mrs Jenkins. I’m afraid that if you’re going to insist on seeing this photograph, then I’m going to have to insist on seeing your pussy, spread wide open for my enjoyment.”
“Why, Mr Jenkins, you’re a beast.”
“That I am, Mrs Jenkins.”
She leapt to her feet. “Okay. You have a deal. Show me yours and I’ll show you mine.”
He ran to the hall to grab the manila envelope from his coat pocket. By the time he got back to the kitchen she had taken off her pyjama bottoms and was lying face down over the table. Jenks pulled out a chair and positioned himself so he could admire her delicious, naked, chubby rump and the space between her legs. Her delicate pussy lips protruded from her slit like a lazy, lolling tongue, but when she peeled them apart for his pleasure, they opened like butterfly wings to reveal a soft interior the colour of candyfloss. “How’s that?”
“That’s pretty damned good.” He leaned in for a closer inspection. Seeing things he wasn’t supposed to see turned Jenks on like nothing else. He was a visual person and could happily do nothing but look for hours on end without ever feeling the need to touch. His view right now was bordering on gynaecological: the glossy inner flesh of his wife’s most intimate place, the nub of her clit popping its nose out from its pink nest, the tiny eye of her piss hole, the twisted structural form of her vaginal walls and the puckered mouth of her anus. And the intoxicating aroma of cunt ‒ that spicy feminine musk reaching up through his nostrils into his brain like an invisible hand, gripping him and commanding him, luring him in. Pussy was the ultimate drug. Nothing in this world could send him higher or make him feel more alive.
“Hey! Earth to Jenks. Show me that picture, you fucker. We had a deal, remember?”
Without taking his eyes off her sparkling hole, he pushed the envelope into her grasping hand. There was a rustling of paper, a brief silence, an intake of breath, and then Kate exclaimed, “fucking hell!”
Buy Peeper as e-book or paperback at
Amazon US
Amazon UK
SJ Smith is the writer of the novels Leisure and Peeper, as well as several short stories. He is happily married and lives in a small town in North Wales, and when he isn’t busy pedalling smut, he enjoys watching rugby or disappearing on a narrowboat to escape the rat race for a while.
SSoo can we buy it as an ebook someplace other than Amazon? Really liked the little freebie but I hate Amazon and try to avoid them ...
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