Susan had dated Bob for some time, so long in fact that she was more than ready for intimacy with her gentleman friend. In spite of her need and desire, Bob was strangely unresponsive to what Susan thought were her clearly communicated signals of availability. Curious as well as needy, Susan decided to press the issue with her boyfriend.

Following a date when they were alone, Susan began passionately kissing Bob, her hands roving all over his body and beginning to unbutton his shirt. After a moment of this, however, Bob uncomfortably communicated that it was time for him to be going, standing to leave as he had done so often before.

Susan was again frustrated and confused. "I've got to know, Bob," she pressed. "Don't you want me? Is there something wrong with me?," she asked.

"No, Susan, you're fine!," assured Bob with a dismissive wave of his hand. "You're more than fine, actually," he declared as he nervously paced the room.

"Well, what is it, then?," asked Susan. "Are you gay?-Don't you want me?"

"No, I'm not gay, Susan," fired back Bob, "not that there's anything wrong with being that way."

"Then tell me why you don't want me," demanded Susan. "Are you nervous about being with me?-Oh Honey, are you a virgin?," asked Susan, somewhat charmed by that prospect.

"Susan, it's more complicated than that," began Bob, clearly uneasy. "Have you ever heard of pluripotent progenitor cells?"

"Say what?," asked Susan, totally out of her element.

Bob continued. "Susan, when we're embryos, we're a mass of pluripotent progenitor cells. They're undifferentiated cells until they receive messengers, chemical signals from the body. Those messengers tell those early cells what to become, like some become bone, some turn into skin or muscle, and yet others become eye cells," he explained.

Susan was never more confused. "That's very interesting, Bob, but what's it got to do with now? You're no embryo, and I'm a big girl, too, she said.

Bob was in anguish. "Susan, you see...when I was an embryo, I got the wrong messengers!" Standing before Susan, Bob ripped off his shirt.

What Susan saw then were eyes...Bob's chest was covered with eyes, dozens of them. Each was perfectly formed, and they all focused independently on Susan. Some of the eyes were blue, others were brown, a few hazel, some green. At different moments the lids of each orb closed in a normal reflex action, momentarily to open again.

Stunned, Susan stared at the multitude of eyes on Bob's chest which in turn regarded her. When an instant of disbelief had passed, however, Susan began screaming, much too loudly for Bob's pleasure. His eyes seemed to tense and narrow protectively at the auditory assault as well. Susan then ran hysterically away from Bob, all lustful desire now gone.

Bob gathered up his shirt and put it back on, the outcome of this encounter not unanticipated. Perhaps someday he's find a woman who liked a man with pretty eyes; Lord knows, he had a lot of them.

"Goodbye, Susan," said Bob softly in the general direction of her recent departure. "I'll be seeing you around," he whispered with just a trace of a smile...