The shiny new concept automobiles were on display. String bikinied models draped the vehicles, their surgically rounded boobs and butts receiving more consideration than the sleekly rounded hoods and fenders supporting them.
One such model draped machine was the TWI Electric Car. It was a concept vehicle with the manufacturing still being organized. It boasted affordable energy efficiency thanks to its space age metal alloys. Total Woman Industries had locked up an economical source of rare earth elements, providing an economic quantum leap in battery life and electro-magnet power.
Francine wore a micro-bikini and draped the hood. Jeffery, truly uncomfortable away from his beloved manufacturing floor, answered questions from reporters who only half listened to his extensive responses as they drooled over Francine. Jeffery was getting irritated. He liked order and proficiency. As an industrial engineering manager, he was feeling the same with these journalists as he did with his few employees. Not many could attain his standards of precision and commitment to quality. That's why he favored robotic manufacturing. Robots were precise, dependable and tireless. Jeffery was a hard man to please.
The reporters moved on with backward glances at Francine. Jeffery welcomed the break from their stupid questions. Francine slid off the auto. Her skin rubbed the acrylic finish with a squeaky noise. Jeffery took note and looked over at his mechanical progeny. Francine was thankful that her minimal attire had no clasps that might scratch the polished finish.
Francine smiled and said "Don't mind them; they're just paparazzi. They need something to sell to their readers, whether it's fabulous stars or fabulous cars. The real audience is the buyers and when they understand that your baby will save them a lot of money, they'll come running. I know I will"
Jeffery's mind began a slow motion movie of Francine running in her micro bikini. Her large boobs were rebounding up and down and side to side, straining her minimalist clothing. The engineer inside him thought about the tensile stresses in the fibers, whether the thin straps could resist the bursting forces. Those forces were governed by acceleration and mass. Before he could calculate that, he needed to know the mass and density of her breasts. That would depend on their size and whether they were natural flesh or plastic implants.
Lost in his thoughts, engrossed in calculations, he absent mindedly pointed at Francine's chest and asked "Are those real?"
Francine was used to being cat called and wolf whistled but this was new and rather forward, especially from her client and in public. Over the last few days she had recognized whenever Jeffery was off on a mental tangent. He struggled to give simple answers to journalists' simple questions, trying to be exact and dazing them with too many complex answers. She was amused and curious. So where had this question come from?
"Why do you want to know?"
"Your bra might snap when you run to buy our car."
Francine was speechless but took it in stride, realizing that Jeffery was a genius who sometimes failed to adapt his thoughts to his surroundings. She reached out and hugged Jeffery's arm to her breasts, guiding him behind the booth curtain to a chair.
"Let's sit you down over here, cherie. Your head might catch fire from thinking too hard."
Francine decided the best way to get Jeffery back to the Car Show was to answer his question. She took his hands, held them to her breasts and helped him squeeze to search for implants. Finding none, Jeffery happily completed his mental calculations using the natural density of breast flesh. Francine could run amok. Her bra would hold the globes but barely.
The crowds had dissipated. Francine was wearing a light robe over her show costume, picking up the leaflets left over at the end of the day. Doing shows was good pay but unsteady work. She had earned a degree in Sales and Marketing but found early in her career that her bodacious body marketed products quicker than her witty sales pitches. She liked working these shows and, despite his cerebral safaris, Jeffery really knew his product. She was intrigued by this concept car. She wanted to find out more about Jeffery and his car.
Francine threw a pitch at Jeffery. "Let's go get changed and get some dinner. I want you to tell me more about this car."
The waiter took their order, brought some wine and appetizers. They were seated at a sidewalk café facing the sea.
"So, Jeffery, can you tell me in 10 words or less what makes your car so special?"
"Well, it's state of the art, uses advanced batteries, most of the components are crafted and assembled to precise tolerances by robots, it has good performance dynamics and comes in radiant colors. Then there's ..."
Francine held up her hands to stop Jeffery's soliloquy. "That's a whole lot more than 10 words and I can tell you're just warming up. Can you summarize it or something?"
"But the details are important" he said.
"Yes, in a marketing presentation or a glossy brochure where there's space and time. But when someone asks a simple question, you need to give them a short concise answer. You're a brilliant scientist but so was Einstein and he described the entire universe with just 5 characters: E = M C 2."
Jeffery gave that some thought. Francine seemed to know her stuff about marketing and product promotion.
Francine continued "When you were curious about my boobs, you got right to the point, a short question, and a short answer. So apparently you can be concise when it's something you need to get to quickly. Maybe we can work on that." She slid around the table a little and placed her hand on Jeffery's crotch.
