A Bestiary of Unnatural Women Read Online Free PDF Page B

of the stupid things that
they had done to their computers, many of them should have blushed,
but this was the only woman whose face actually turned red. “This
is kind of embarrassing.” She paused for a moment then said in a
rush, “I need you to remove my bra.”
    “What?” He could not believe that she had
said what he had heard.
    She spoke more slowly. “I need you to take my
bra off for me.”
    “I don’t understand.”
    “What word don’t you understand?” she asked
in frustration. “Bra or remove? A bra is a piece of underwear that
a woman wears on her chest to support her breasts.” She raised her
hands to her chest but did not actually touch her breasts.
“Removing it requires unfastening it at the back.”
    “I know that,” Rob snapped back. He
interpreted her sarcasm as implying that he had never removed a
woman's bra before. He never had – a fact that he would have been
embarrassed to admit – but, if given the opportunity, he was sure
that he could figure out how it was done. His technical competence
was not limited to software but encompassed hardware as well.
    Though woman’s breasts looked more soft than
hard to him. Not that he had ever touched one to know from
first-hand experience.
    At this point, I should tell you a couple of
basic facts about Rob. He’s a young man, a month shy of his
twenty-second birthday, who had just begun his master’s degree in
computer science. He was not ugly but no one would call him
handsome, either, especially when they saw him in his usual stained
and rumpled attire. Even if he cleaned himself up in strict
accordance to Esquire rules, he would still look quite average.
    His appearance did not bother him, though.
His main obstacle to happiness was that he had almost no social
life. He liked people and would have liked to hang around them
more, but had no idea how to relate to other human beings. Not all
computer geeks are nerds, but some are and the nerd stereotype
could have been based on Rob.
    The only thing that was really wrong with Rob
was that he was relentlessly boring. He could speak about little
apart from computers. He never read books or newspapers, watched
little television, and didn’t know one end of a football from the
other. Worse, when he started talking about computers, he was
excruciatingly pedantic, especially if he was speaking to a woman.
He should be forgiven for that, though. In order to get him to fix
their computers, women invariably acted like helpless children
around him. Then, when he spoke to them as though they were
children, they felt insulted.
    It was a no-win dilemma.
    It was not surprising, then, that he had
never had a date with a woman. I was probably the only woman that
had any kind of friendship with him and that was pretty much
limited to a few dinners with groups of students in the computer
science program. I was more likely to talk to him in an Internet
chat sessions than in real space. I let him be one of my Facebook
and Twitter friends mostly out of sympathy.
    This woman, though, acted completely
differently from any other woman that he had ever met. Rob as
flabbergasted when she closed his office door and then began
unbuttoning her top. She was wearing a heavy, shapeless, plaid
flannel shirt that was probably the least sexy item of clothing
that any woman had ever worn in the history of fashion. Her breasts
were large enough to make their presence obvious but the shirt
completely hid the fine details of her shape. And he was soon to
discover that the details of her shape were exceptionally fine.
    Despite the unsexy fashion, the fact that she
was voluntarily stripping it off in the privacy of his office
instantly made the lumberjack shirt the most sensual piece of
clothing that he had ever seen on a woman. He might well spend the
next decade fantasizing about plaid flannel.
    As the buttons were released, one by one, the
flannel began to gape open, revealing shiny black leather cups on
either side of the