Primal Impulse (Censored Edition)

by Johnson, James

  The exponential growth in sales had brought on some complications. There had been a couple of requests to appear at book events. Everyone wanted to meet the mysterious creator of the novels they devoured. Just how long he could keep his secret he didn’t know.

  Questions were popping up on some of the romance novel websites. There was curiosity as to who was this maestro of romance. Who was capable of weaving together such lechery and emotion? Who was it that connected the dots between lust and love? Who could stream together sentences that captured the heart and heated the groin? Who was this author of the raw and raunchy, yet heartfelt romp into romantic dreamland?

  It was that small but growing base of fans who were growing increasingly curious. Jena was the perfect example of the typical Joan Dixon fan. They wanted to see her face, shake her hand, and tell her how much they adore her. They wanted to thank her for Heart of the Animal, Dirty Love, and Naked Emotion. They wanted to ask when the next spicy treasure chest would be released. They wanted to meet their “goddess” as Jena had so aptly put it.

  It was readers like Jena who were paying his bills as of late. It was loyal fans like her that might one day allow him to quit his day job and write full time. They were faithful to their heroine Joan Dixon. They didn’t mind plunking down a few dollars to warm their hearts and fire up their libido.

  Steven paid for the drinks and picked them up. Maybe he would wait to tell Jena about his famed alias. There wasn’t a real sense of urgency about it. Maybe he would have a little fun with it first. Perhaps he would play with her mind a little bit, bait her up in the bedroom with some of Joan Dixon’s spicier narratives. Maybe he would give her more Joan Dixon than she could handle.

  Steven smiled as he walked back to the table. Yep, that’s what he would do. His disclosure would wait. Jena would thank him for it later anyway. She was the type of girl who liked excitement. She would appreciate a little head-game trick, a bit of mental stimulation to liven up the bedroom.

  Yeah, for sure that’s what he would do. Ideas were already popping into his head. Joan Dixon’s imagination was going to magically manifest during their lovemaking. Her sensuality would expose itself in all of its lusty glory. Every bit of her lascivious xx would be ravished upon Jena. She alone would be the lucky recipient of Joan Dixon’s blazing sensuality.

  Jena’s entire body would reap the pleasures of her creativity. Her whole being would become a lightning rod of sensual delights. Her whole body would be a nerve center of sensation, one big hungry xx soaking up raw pleasure, reveling in the sensual essence of it all.

  It certainly wouldn’t require much effort on his part. Jena didn’t know it, but Joan Dixon’s popularity was all due to her. She had been the model of sensuality for Joan Dixon from the very first book. She had been the inspiration behind the whole idea of writing sensual love stories.

  It had been Jena’s image of salaciousness that danced in his mind when he was creating those heated scenes of unrestrained passion and liberated lust. It was Jena losing herself in libidinous ecstasy as he typed away on his computer. It was Jena who, for the last two years, had xx xx xx as he wrote.

  For twenty long years he had lusted after her, wondering what it would be like to make love to her. For two decades he had wondered what she tasted like, what she felt like wrapped around him. The lure of her flesh swept him into the realm of fantasy and fiction. Without Jena there never would have been a Joan Dixon.

  For three books he had fantasized about the dream that got away. For a hundred chapters he captured his lust for this amazing model of sensuality in literary prose. For a thousand pages he was consumed with fiery passion for his Jena girl. Every single word represented a primal desire, a need to consummate burning memories from the past.

  Yes, Jena was the titillating inspiration behind Joan Dixon’s success. She was the one responsible for her growing legion of fans. Jena was the spark that made it all happen. She was the soul of Joan Dixon.

  Steven looked at the girls. They were engrossed in conversation, of which he undoubtedly was the main topic. Jena looked so happy expressing herself. She looked like a girl in love. She seemed to be bursting at the seams with joy.

  As pretty as this picture was, it was no more beautiful than the feelings that were ripping through him. Jena was not one bit happier than he—for he too was lost in a sea of joy. He also had slipped under the waterline that defined body and spirit. He had stuck a toe into the salty, sensual liquid of lust and got sucked under by the power of emotion. He was submerged in the soothing waters of contentment, where everything seemed as it should be. He was drifting joyously in a sea of passionate bliss. He too was in love.

  Chapter 21

  Steven stood by their table with drinks in hand. The girls still hadn’t noticed him. They were like teenagers discussing their favorite topic, affairs of the heart. He was reluctant to interrupt them for it was a basic female trait. Without it they would wither away and die. It was the instinctual female support system that had worked for centuries. It was a sort of survival mechanism that was ingrained into them. The exchange of energy and information was food for their soul. It was a timeless ritual that went back through the ages.

  Sharing the highs and lows of romance was the nature of their gender. It was the crown they wore when they were riding high in the euphoric clouds of love. It was their medicine for the biting pain of bitter heartbreak. It was their way of coping with the mystery of the sexes. It was women helping women survive in the brutal world of love.

  Steven let the essence of raw femininity soak into his subconscious. He didn’t have to listen to learn anything. Their words didn’t matter. All that mattered was being encased by the magical ambience that surrounded him. It was something every female possessed. Each of them harbored a mystical aura that gleamed for all to see. All you had to do was open the doors to your soul and let the light enter. It was the light of truth and awareness. It was the key that unlocked the heart. It was the secret hidden in plain view.

  Steven breathed them in. He ushered in the iridescence of these complicated but beautiful women. The energy that emanated from them flowed into his pores. This was the Joan Dixon in him absorbing it all. This is what made his novels so popular. He knew how a woman thought. He knew what they wanted. He knew what set them on fire.

  Women were beautiful. And it had absolutely nothing to do with their physical presence. It was what resided deep inside them. It was that female energy that lit up the room when they entered. It was their mystical way of wearing their emotions for all to see. It was the smile of their soul when they were lost in love. Every single one of them was a gift from the heavens.

  Women were poetry painted upon the sky, each one an exhilarating rainbow of colors that never failed to rhyme. They spoke the same language, shared the same bond, and danced to the same rhythm. They were all different and they were all the same. They were the awe-inspiring art that seared the soul with their brilliance. They were the beautiful prose that leaped from the pages, burrowing into the heart. They were treasures of femininity, seraphic angels of destiny.

  Nobody appreciated a woman like Steven did. If only other men would pay attention they too could gain insight. Women were the energy that fueled the world. It was their special touch that added beauty to the planet. They were the precious jewels of the creator.

  If men could look past their egos long enough they would realize all this. Their pot of gold is right before them and most don’t have a clue. The big mystery is not really a mystery at all. Follow the rainbow of femininity until you find your treasure. Then treat your treasure with respect. Care for it and appreciate it. Show your gratitude. Your reward will follow ten times over.

  Women guard the treasures that sparkle and shine. They’re the gatekeepers of humanity. They can see and feel the vibrations of the universe. Their special cosmic energy allows them access to the vaults of wisdom. They’re mystical sages who possess the secrets of the human soul. They harbor the true spirit w
ithin their hearts. Men are mere soldiers at their command.

  Yeah, that’s the way it is. Women are special and need to be treated with respect. Show them you care and their doors swing open. Make them feel good and they reciprocate with unleashed passion. Love them and pamper them and they’ll shower you in pleasure. Remove their wrapper with care and respect and their world becomes yours. They spread their wings and let you come inside.

  * CENSORED *

  Chapter 22

  Jena was a little drunk. She had consumed three glasses of wine at James Café. She seemed to have gotten caught up in the happy stream of conversation between the three of them. Vicki was quite a funny girl after a drink or two, especially when the girl talk flowed. Add the presence of a male and things could become very entertaining. And they did.

  It had been quite the time. For three hours they had talked. Jena had shared the story of Steven’s big tease the night before. She told Vicki how he tortured her with his little Venezuelan adventure. Her loose wine lips told of the agony of sitting on the lusty edge. She recalled how she was forced to hear of Steven’s near catastrophic brush with death while he’s teasing her. She told of how her body was lusting with the need. She wanted to be touched so badly that she thought she would burst. She spared a few of the more intimate details, but she was plenty hot and spicy.

  Steven threw his part into the conversation. He finally came clean on his missing year—Venezuelan authorities didn’t appreciate gringo pot smugglers so he spent a year in their jail. It didn’t matter that he made not a dime from his “crime.”

  Steven loved it. It was all harmless fun. Jena was a very sexual woman who was just doing what came naturally. He just added it to his bank of knowledge, a little more insight into the female gender. If you keep a woman caged up she’ll find a way to squeeze through the bars. Bottle up a woman and she’ll find a way to pop the top off—and she won’t splash out on you. Someone else will reap the wet reward, someone who’s not afraid to let a wild animal run free.

  Steven had learned that a long, long time ago. A hot woman would find a way to cool off one way or another—as in another man. Many men just don’t understand it. Their education of the sexes doesn’t start until it’s too late. They’re never schooled in the mysteries of primal impulse. They don’t open the book on animal desire until she’s out the door. They don’t look past the cover until she’s in the arms of another.

  Some men walk the streets of ignorance as their woman burns inside. They stand at the corner of love and lust and don’t know where to turn. They wander into the intersection of enlightenment and cruise right through. They never realize how close they were to unlocking the treasure chest of awareness. They’ll never know just how close they were towards unraveling the mysteries of femininity.

  Steven was grateful for the insight he had obtained. Jena was going to run wild and free. There would be no leash wrapped around her. There would be no collar of restraint to bind her. There would be no cage of jealousy to stifle her personality. His xx baby was free to let her sexuality flow. And right now that’s exactly what she was doing.

  Jena fumbled for her key as they walked up to her apartment. It was proving quite difficult with one hand stuck up his shirt. Add the alcohol buzz and it became a real chore. She finally found it as her hand made its way down and brushed over his hard cock.

  She had been that way all the way home. She had been all over him during the short drive home. Her hands and kisses made it nearly impossible to drive. Luckily they made it home without incident.

  Jena giggled as she unlocked the door. They entered the apartment.

  “Come here, my hot guy,” said Jena as she pulled Steven against her. “I wanna kiss you.”

  She pressed a hand against the back of his head and kissed him deeply. Her hungry tongue wrapped around his. It was long and silky.

  “Ummm,” groaned Jena.

  For a long minute Steven let Jena have her way. She kissed him with a recklessness that she had never shown before. It was passionate and totally unrestricted. She was loose and free. Tonight she would be a wildcat.

  “Ummm,” Jena moaned again as her mouth slipped away from his. It made a popping sound as she released his tongue that she had been sucking on with such passion. It was just part of her total sensual assault. Jena knew how to engage all of his senses.

  “Oh yeah,” said Jena as she began kissing his neck. “This is what I want. I want you.”

  Her long tongue slowly ran the length of his neck. First one side, then the other she ravished him. She ran her tongue upwards over his chin and it landed back in his mouth. They once again kissed as the lust built within.

  Jena slowly leaned back as she sucked on his tongue. It slipped out of her mouth.

  Jena reached behind her back and unlatched her bra. She pulled it out and tossed it aside. With both arms she grabbed the bottom of her shirt and pulled it over her head. It too was flung by the wayside.

  * CENSORED *

  Jena’s face revealed her true essence. The walls had tumbled down. Her black eyes of desire reflected the hunger within. The strand of hair dangling over her face was a symbol of total release. Nothing mattered now but the touch. All her worldly cares had floated away. There was nothing but a shiny surface that would be painted with pleasure. The colors of passion and lust would be splashed upon them. They would roll in the effulgence and let the gods have their way.

  Jena and Steven would color each other in nature’s brilliance. They would create their own art that would sparkle through the night. They would make their private rainbow and follow it to the heavens. Then they would slide down the brilliance into the treasure below. A golden dream would usher them in with the lure of each other.

  They would roll in their dream until the dream came true. They would coat each other with the moment, wallow in the now. They would feel every touch like a burning iron that branded their souls. They would take and give of each other until there was nothing left. They would leave nothing but the ashes of love and lust.

  Steven took her in, this fantastic package of sensuality. Jena was incredibly beautiful. It wasn’t the in-your-face type of beauty that fooled so many. It wasn’t the result of some television-twisted programming that made women feel inadequate.

  Jena’s beauty was completely natural. There was nothing skin deep about her. She didn’t need makeup, fancy clothes or any of those superficial cover-ups. Her beauty radiated from within. It was a sense-bending sensuality that surrounded her all the time. It was a hungry sexuality that covered her like a cloud. It was the beauty of her passionate soul shining through like the summer sun. It was a primal presence that made the blood run hot. It was his baby’s calling card of lust. And right now she was lusting after him.

  Jena had him so turned on. Her little game or whatever it was had his heart racing. There was no predicting what she would do next. She was on fire.

  “Well, baby,” said Jena as she knelt back down. “What’s it gonna be? Some more of this?”

  * CENSORED *

  Jena looked up at him. Once again he gazed into her presence. Her faint smile revealed a touch of playful wickedness. Her black eyes of desire reflected the hunger within. It was dark smoke rising from the raging fire of lust deep inside her soul. Her eyes pierced his flesh, heated his blood, soaked him with her fiery lust.

  “Yeah,” she breathed as she xx xx xx.

  Jena was beyond sexy. There literally were no words that could express the passion that flowed from her. It was so sensual to see this incredible girl unleashing her sexuality. How he managed to become the lucky recipient of her sensual skills he didn’t know. All he knew was that he never wanted it to end. He wanted this forever.

  * CENSORED *

  Jena was giving her all to him. Mind, body and soul were united in her quest to pleasure him. The passion she exhumed was limitless. She was born for this. She was created to make love. She was built for pleasure. Jena was the epitome of all that was sens
uous.

  Chapter 23

  * CENSORED *

  They were closer than close. They were one and the same. There was no he or she. There was no Steven or Jena. They were wrapped under one skin. They were one energy, one consciousness and one body. They were whole, complete, an eternal flame that would burn forever. They were each other.

  * CENSORED *

  Chapter 24

  * CENSORED *

  Jena’s entire body braced for the upcoming sensual assault. Her body tingled with a forewarning electricity. Jena awaited the oncoming passion that was racing through her.

  Jena trembled as the giant wave engulfed her. It was a tidal wave of overwhelming pleasure. It was a tsunami of lust crashing through her body. It felt so xx xx.

  “Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!”

  Jena’s primal scream pierced the air. It was loud and intense. It was one long shriek of exploding lust and passion. It rang of finality. It was a high-pitched scream that could only originate from agony or ecstasy. An outsider wouldn’t know the difference.

  It was Jena thanking the universe for her bit of heaven on Earth. It was showing gratitude for the gift of sexuality. It was acknowledging to the creator an awareness of sweet eroticism. It was recognizing the gift of sensuality. It was a thank you for the pleasures of the flesh, the cleansing of her soul. It was sincere appreciation for the xx xx xx.

  Jena had released a flood. Her sexual lava xx xx. He could feel Jena’s xx xx xx. Her xx xx xx. It was so damn intimate.

  Jena rested her quivering body on top of him. She was panting in desperation, gasping for a precious breath of air. Steven could feel the intense heat released from her body. She felt a million degrees hot. He could feel her heart relentlessly pounding against his chest. Jena was totally spent. His hot baby had xx xx xx.