“It’s too hot,” Lucas said to his mother, turning his head away from the food.
“But sweetie, how do you know it’s hot or not? You haven’t even tried it.”
“Because I know!” Lucas threw down his fork in anger. Though he was a well-behaved 6-year-old boy, he was prone to tantrums like most kids his age.
It was around this time that Lucas’ parents began to notice their son’s hyper-awareness of temperature. He seemed to know if an object was hot or cold simply by looking at it. If the bath water was too cold, he would tell his mother without touching a drop. If his parents put on a heavy coat in the morning before heading out to work, he would tell them something lighter would be better, without going outside or listening to the weather report. He somehow had the ability to measure temperature with only his eyes.
Worried, Lucas’ parents took him to several doctors, but none found anything wrong. No treatment could be prescribed. One university professor ran some tests in two rooms divided by a plate-glass window to confirm that Lucas had a gift possessed by no other living human. He was seen as somewhat of a curious oddity in the scientific journals, even appearing on the local news under the headline “The local boy with the super power,” but since his power didn’t affect his outward appearance or his behavior, he had a normal life like anyone else.
Lucas saw temperature in a similar way to how normal humans view topographical maps—in lines. The hotter the object, the more lines he would see wrapping around an object, undulating and moving according to the object’s changing temperature. To hone his super sense, Lucas decided to do an instrument calibration, with the instrument being his brain. When he was 18, he would stare at pots of boiled water to memorize its signature pattern for the 100º C reading. He stared at ice cubes, freezers, ovens, rivers, light bulbs, and electronic equipment. He even sat on the side of a joggers trail to note heat patterns among people undergoing exercise. By the time he was 22, fresh out of college, Lucas was just as accurate as a thermometer in determining temperature to within a range of 0.15º C. A cool party trick, for sure, but it was only most useful when he would cook hamburgers and want to know when the patties were done.
Once he satisfied his parents by getting a respectable college degree and a job, Lucas could now focus on something that had been nagging him for years: his virginity. It was carefully preserved like a dinosaur fossil during the four years he was surrounded by young women on campus. Like most men who believed the cultural propaganda of the time, Lucas was sure that he could friend his way into a woman’s pants. Disappointingly, it never happened.
He first tried his hand in the city’s nightclubs, but was overwhelmed at the noise and crowd. It didn’t help that his lack of killer instinct meant thirstier guys were rapidly approaching girls before he could gather the temporary courage to do so. He sat back instead and observed the environment, especially the temperature signals given off by the party goers. Men in heat actually displayed heat, mostly around their armpits, lower back, and forehead. Their heat signal would steadily go up when talking to a girl and then cool back down after she withdrew. The women seemed ice cold to Lucas, with no discernible heat pattern, until he changed his sensory focus from their main body parts directly to their vaginas. What he noticed was fascinating.
At rest, most girls have arctic vaginas, but when engaged in a conversation with a man, the vagina becomes extraordinarily sensitive to bits of speech. It would jump by over 3 degrees with no obvious charge in its owner’s demeanor and body language, and then, after the man said something retarded, instantly cool back down. Lucas could see the large physiological changes happening inside these girls, but to any bystander it seemed like nothing was happening when actually the girl was experiencing volcanic activity within her vaginal organ.
A common pattern Lucas noticed was that men would start off strong, eliciting copious vaginal heat, but then lose momentum and run out of heat-forming game until the girl said something to the effect of, “It was nice talking to you but I have to go back to my friends now.” Lucas was ecstatic because he finally stumbled on a way to use his superpower for personal gain. It was time for him to get laid.
Lucas started by testing out opening lines. He delivered the line to a girl then casually glanced at her vagina to note any temperature change. After weeks of work, he found a line that consistently generated the most amount of vaginal heat. Then he tested a variety of follow-up conversational pieces and measured the vaginal response to each one. He repeated this process over the course of 500 approaches to develop a club routine that consistently generated sustained vaginal heating. He learned that once the vagina’s maximum temperature was attained, no further words or moves could further improve the seduction. Only a maintenance protocol of touching, deep eye contact, and dancing was needed. In fact, it was better to limit talking at that point so as not to disturb the heated vagina. He theorized that a hot vagina is like the sun when sufficiently turned on, generating additional heat from its own core. As long as the girl’s friends weren’t cockblocking, all that was left was to venue change to either his apartment or hers. It’s through this laborious process that Lucas lost his virginity.
His routine wasn’t foolproof: some girls had vaginas that remained in a stubborn state of deep freeze, but he was able to take a girl home for fornication about one out of every two nights. Within a year of losing his virginity, he racked up 56 notches. He was immensely pleased at his newfound sexual success.
During his experimentation, Lucas learned several interesting facts about female psychology. First, girls hated direct questions. Nothing chilled the vagina more than asking them about their job or name. At the same time, they loved it when Lucas evaded their questions by giving strange or aloof answers. They loved guessing games and cold reads. They loved touches on their upper bicep more than their forearm. They absolutely hated when Lucas complimented their beauty, but loved compliments on their intelligence or wittiness. They loved cocky statements that were both funny and sexual in nature. They hated talk about money, but got turned on when they caught signs of wealth like a thick wad of cash or a BMW key chain.
Lucas internalized all the correct actions and behaviors of an attractive man to the point where he only had to do one or two temperature readings during a long conversation to simply confirm he was on the right track. There were two girls he had sex with where he didn’t even take a single temperature reading, mimicking what normal guys had to do.
Before Lucas started using vaginal temperature to get laid, he had the working assumption that all women were essentially the same, and that their vaginas would respond to his precise routines in the same way. This turned out to be far from the case. There was so much variation that Lucas got rejected a surprisingly high number of times, even when using his optimized game. What he came to understand was that each type of girl required a specific funnel for him to get laid, and that he had stumbled on only one such funnel that applied to chirpy post-college American girls who liked to party two or three times a week. This realization was clear to him in a bar when he tried his game on a fresh-off-the-boat Russian girl named Galina.
He was turned on by Galina because she looked so different than all the other girls he took to bed. She had a petite construction with creamy white skin and plain black hair that reached her lower back. Her eyes were pale blue and her mouth large. Her nose curled into an elegant hook if viewed from the side. The frown she seemed to wear suggested rudeness, but it was more from anxiety due to being so far away from her motherland. If inspected separately, her features would suggest a rather disagreeable sight, but they mixed well to form an unassuming Slavic beauty that excited Lucas.
When Lucas attempted to talk to her at the bar, her vagina did not respond at all. He tried all his greatest hits, but still nothing, and for a second Lucas thought she was deaf.
“Do you understand English?” Lucas asked.
“Yes.” Her mouth barely moved.
“Maybe… I’m… talking… too… fast.”
“Whether you talk fast or slow, I can understand you just fine. I studied English in university for several years.”
Flustered, Lucas peppered her with questions. What city are you from? What are you doing in America? How long are you staying here? What did you study in school? He was going against the rules he had learned. When he realized this, he glanced at her vagina and it showed the temperature pattern of a tall glass of iced tea. Efforts to spin her around in the salsa style, a reliable heat maker, utterly failed.
“Why did you do that?” Galina asked. “You don’t have to pretend you’re having fun. Just be normal.”
Her responses were too foreign for him. He didn’t know the optimized answers he could give because he never interacted with enough girls like Galina to know what to do. He was too far off the track from the one game he knew could work, and it had been months since he had experimented with new material, so he froze, unable to conjure up anything in the way of conversation. Galina slid away from him and joined her group of au pairs on the dance floor.
Lucas felt like a fool. He had absolutely nothing to offer Galina in spite of all his previous success. His superpower made no difference. He became depressed at the thought that men who didn’t have his power were able to sleep with Galina while all he got from his efforts was a painful reprimand.
He stayed away from the clubs for several weeks, frustrated at the thought that no matter how much of an advantage he had with his power, more girls like Galina would inevitably slip through his grasp. He believed he shouldn’t have to develop a game for all the different types of girls in existence that he may one day like. It should not only be easy, thanks to his amazing gift, but get easier. He shouldn’t have to put in more work now than when he was a virgin who didn’t even know what a vagina looked like.
His ensuing slump led to months of no sex, leading to much discomfort, anxiety, and horniness. He needed something quick and easy, so he decided to go back to his favorite club to find a bubbly American girl he could lay with his old funnel. He stood by the ladies restroom and checked out the prospects available to him. One girl in particular startled Lucas because her vagina seemed to be in a state of pre-heatedness.
He followed her into the main dance hall, fully expecting to find her with a man who was the cause of said heat, but she stood with only two girlfriends. Lucas had seen pre-heated vaginas before, but not at the high temperature he was witnessing at the moment. He started to get excited at the chance of a lay that would take minimal effort.
Lucas approached the girl with his standard funnel and sure enough she responded favorably. It wasn’t even one hour after they met that she was on his bed. The sex was quite good, which Lucas attributed to her impulsive personality, further confirmed by her random body piercings and tattoos, not to mention a ribbon of pink hair that was swept across her temple. She was so ravenous for his penis that she pushed him to rounds two, three, and even four. Condoms were jettisoned somewhere in the middle of their sexual feast, and when it was all done, Lucas made sure to get her number for a future meeting. He didn’t mind having a little nymph in his rotation.
Two days later, with his sex afterglow on the wane, Lucas stepped into a popular burger chain for lunch. While eating, he wondered if his first text should be cocky or plain. Texting had always been the hardest part of the game for him because it was impossible to see the vaginal temperature changes in his recipients.
He decided to play it safe and ask how her week was going. After he clicked send, he placed his phone on the table and felt a strange sensation in his crotch. He ignored the feeling, thinking it was his imagination, but by the time he was done with his bacon cheeseburger, he couldn’t ignore what felt like shooting pains of heat coming straight out of his penis hole. He looked down at his crotch and saw the exact same heat pattern as in the nymph’s pre-heated vagina.
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