Radiant Heat

I’d gotten home a little early and discovered Julie in the living room sitting on the radiator. She was wearing jeans but no top. The tips of her little breasts were decidedly erect. Her back pressed the wall, her eyes were closed tight, her legs splayed apart, and she had a hand in her pants. She was obviously masturbating. I stood in the doorway watching her. The pale skin of Julie’s neck and chest and cheeks flushed with the heat of her excitement. She was getting close to coming, breathing out adorable little moans of excitement, when her eyes flickered open, and she saw me. Her hand jerked out of her pants and her legs snapped closed.

I strode toward her across the room. “The radiator was making strange noises and I couldn’t figure out how to fix it,” she said. “I tried twisting the thingee, but it was stuck, and then I heard the noises again, but it wasn’t the radiator, it was next door. The bed, the bodies, the grunts and groans and cries. They were fucking. It made me so hot. I couldn’t help it. It wasn’t like I was being unfaithful.”

I took Julie’s hand, the one that had been in her pants, and brought it to my lips. I kissed her moist fingertips, and then I sucked her fingers into my mouth and sucked them and caressed them with my tongue. Meanwhile my other hand went to her pants and slid inside, past her shoved down underwear. I pushed two fingers into the hot, slippery clasp of her cunt. “You’re so hot,” I whispered. “You know, heat transfers in three ways. There is conduction, convection, and radiation. Conduction is...” I was going to explain the three types of heat transfer, but I knew that Julie was not able to pay the slightest attention. She was coming.

It wasn’t until I’d finger-fucked her into two more orgasms that I took my fingers out. I sniffed the delicious scent of her excitement, and then I introduced the fingers into her mouth. I caressed her tongue with my cunt-soaked fingers, making sure she could taste herself.

After a minute or so, she fell forward into my arms. I helped her off the radiator and held her tight. “You think I’m a bad girl,” she murmured.

“No, no, not at all,” I said. “You’re just a bad radiator repairman.”

Boxing

The big boxing gloves made it impossible for Julie to masturbate. I’d ordered them from Amazon only yesterday—the miracle of one-day shipping.

“What are they for?” Julie asked.

“In case you feel like being a bad girl again,” I answered. “Try them on. But first you better strip bare.”

“Why?”

“So you get the full effect.”

I helped Julie off with her things, and then I fitted the gloves over her fists and laced them tight on her little wrists.