The Horrible Glasses

Note: This story is a pure fiction. The places and characters are fictitious. If they resemble anybody you know it is just by chance.

by Bobby Laurel

Not only I have the thing for girls with glasses I also like wearing glasses, especially strong glasses. In fact, it is a kind of turn on for me. I bought a few pairs of contact lenses with plus diopters so that I could wear much stronger glasses than my normal glasses are. This trick is known as GOC, which stands for Glasses Over Contacts, on Internet. I knew there were more people like me, although I hadn’t met any of the GOC wearers. Neither I had met any other people who like their partners wearing strong glasses until one day that very late summer when this story happened.

I often went for walks wearing my strong glasses I had bought by Internet from a Tai-wan company. The optic shop provided a special service for glasses fans. It sold and fitted low index lenses, of plastic lenses up to +/–30 diopters. I felt very happy the day the delivery came. The box contained a carefully packed pair of glasses with low index plastic lenses of -16 diopters. They were lightweight but the edges were very thick. I couldn’t help looking at them and touching the smoothly ground sides of the lenses that were almost an inch thick. As soon as I had the proper contact lenses I set off for my first walk. I noticed people looking at my glasses in a shopping mall in which I stopped for a small lunch. I didn’t mind, in fact I quite enjoyed being given the looks. I liked being seen with the glasses on only by people who did not know me. I could not imagine what I would say if a person who knows me well asked me why I was wearing such a pair of ridiculously thick glasses, as my normal glasses were quite weak and thin.

I got caught for the first time when I was out with my GOC after quite a number of those GOC walks, as I called them. I was standing in front of a shop window of a hardware store. The goods was not of any interest for me, what I was looking at was my image in a mirror that was hanging in the window. I wanted to see how I looked with the super thick glasses. Suddenly somebody said "Hi, Bob!" I turned my head and took fright. A man who used to go to the same tennis club as me 5 years ago was standing in front of me looking at my face. I realized I got caught. After some initial phrases he said:

“Bob, you have quite strange glasses. What happened? You did not wear that strong glasses when we were members of the tennis club.”

I felt I was blushing. How to tell him I was enjoying the strength and the thickness? It was clearly impossible. He would have thought I was crazy. I had to lie. I said something about complications with my eyes due to health problems and left him as soon as I could. I walked right into my home and put the glasses off. This should not have happened, I thought to myself. It was necessary to choose the places for my walks more carefully.

Everything was all right for a few months. I wore the thick glasses only when I was in distant parts of my town, where none of my former schoolmates or colleagues lived. There was a nice little pub with a very good beer on tap. I often sit there at a table in the corner enjoying both the beer and the feeling of having strong thick glasses. None of the other guests had ever talked to me, so I felt very safe. It became my regular stop on my GOC walks.

One day, I came in and the moment I wanted to sit at the table a woman turned and called my name. My former schoolmate was sitting at the next table with another woman. I felt blood running into my cheeks. I got caught again.

She was not looking into my eyes; she kept looking at my glasses instead. The moment when she would ask the inevitable question came. Being asked I mumbled something about increased myopia. Then she said:

“The glasses are horrible. I own an optic shop. Come and we’ll see if you could get thinner lenses and a better frame.”

It was too much for my nerves. I said I would come, left the pub without finishing my beer, and never went back to that part of the town. I realized the only way how to avoid meeting people who knew me was to go to another town. I tried several towns from 50 to 100 km far from the city. It seemed I had to change the places. I did not mind strangers seeing me in the glasses at all, I enjoyed looking like a visually impaired person. Most of all I liked when a woman with glasses looked at me and I could see she noticed how strong my lenses were. The real difficulties I had were with the people who knew me personally. They asked questions. And there was no way how to explain them I fake high nearsightedness for fun, for the enjoyment, and for the turn on I get by fulfilling my fetishistic desire of wearing strong glasses.

The distant town walks worked really well. I felt safe and I was unknown. I even went to sightsee some castles in summer. I saw several women with strong glasses during my trips, but  none of them wore glasses as strong as mine, let alone that thick. Once I felt like talking to a woman who seemed to be alone in a group of tourists at a castle. I wanted to ask her about her glasses as they were fitted with lenticular lenses of a strength probably quite close to my minus 16s. However after a while it showed up she was with her husband there.

Later in summer, I went for a trip to a town where there is a large historical center. The whole center of the town consisting of about 40 streets is a cultural reservation. I felt great. The weather was sunny and I visited many old houses, a tower of a church, and even the catacombs built in 14th century. I stopped in a pub with a garden on the main square to have lunch. I was sitting at a table alone enjoying a glass of beer, when I spotted a woman I knew. We used to work in the same company a few years back. Jenny was walking straight towards me. I turned my head away from her, but it did not help. She came to my table and said:

“Hey, Bob! I haven’t seen you for ages. What are you doing here?”

“A trip.” I mumbled really puzzled. I know I would blush in a second.

“I’ve spotted you a while before, when I was shooting pictures of the fountain, but as you were just having lunch I didn’t want to disturb you. May I sit down, or are you here with a …?”

What could I do? I told her to sit. A waiter came, she ordered a glass of beer and started talking.

I did not know how to escape from the situation. We had worked in the same department of the same firm, her office was just next to mine, we used to see one another every day. She had always worn glasses. However, as she wore plus glasses (I estimated the power might have been +5 or +6 diopters) I was not interested in her. I preferred nearsighted women. Jenny was speaking about her new job, and asked me about mine. I gave her rather short answers. I wanted to pay, leave, and drive out of the town as fast as possible. Then she ordered another glass of beer, and when the waiter asked if I wanted one more too, she told him: “Oh, yes, sure. He’ll have one more with me. Won’t you, Bob?”

The mugs were brought, with a beautiful cap of foam and Jenny smiled at me and … I knew somehow the question I did not want to hear would be coming.

“Anyway, you’ve got new glasses. You wore different ones when we worked at N.J. company.”

“Yes, new.”

“They’re stronger than the old pair, aren’t they?” she asked.

“Yes, stronger.” I kept short answers.

“They really suit you.”

I thought I misheard her: “Pardon?”

“I said they really suit you. It’s a nice frame and the lenses are fitted well.“ she added.

“Well … erm …,” I mumbled quite embarrassed, “it seems most people think they’re horrible.”

“Oh, no, who told you? Do not listen to stupid remarks.” She waited for my answer.

“A former schoolmate. She’s an optician. I met her by chance two months ago.” I said.

“An optician! She wanted to make money. All of them just want to make money by selling the most expensive frames and lenses. You mustn’t get annoyed by that. I've worn glasses for all my life. I always choose frames by myself and never let'em push me to buy anything I didn't want. If you see well with these, if they feel comfortable and if you chose them it's all right. So, why bother?”

I looked at her, quite surprised with the positive words. She took a sip of her beer and looked at me again. She was wearing prescription sunglasses, so her eyes were rather hidden behind the brown tinted lenses. I saw, what I had noticed when we were colleagues, that her eyes did not look of the same siye. Both her yes looked big but the right eye looked bigger than the left one. I thought it was because the lenses were of different powers. The right lens must have been stronger. I compared the sizes again thinking if it brings images of different sizes into her brain. She smiled, blinked and said:

“My right eye looks bigger, doesn’t it?”

“Yes.” I said, “I’m sorry, I didn’t want to…”

“It’s OK, I am used to see people looking at my eyes. The difference is obvious.” She smiled again and said. “The reason is my left lens is 5 diopters and the right lens is 7 diopters.”

She was looking right at me so that I could see the difference. Her lenses were stronger than I had estimated. The fronts quite bulged out. Her chocolate brown eyes looked big. The eyelashes were very long as she slowly blinked again.

Then she opened her bag and provided a glasses case.

“These are my spare glasses,” she said, “I had worn them just for a short time as the lenses were not prescribed quite correctly. You will see the difference.”

She placed her sunglasses on the table and put on the other pair. The frame was older and bigger, and the lenses were clear. I could see her right eye was even bigger than before.

“A doctor prescribed me these a few years ago, I think I'd been very tired or ill when I'd gone to the test, 'cause they're stronger than I need.”

She pointed to her left eye and said: “This is 4.75 diopters,” she moved her finger to the other eye, “and this is 7.75 diopters. I keep them just as a spare pair, 'cause I’m quite blind without my glasses.”

She changed the glasses back.

“These are better. And nicer, I hope.” she smiled sheepishly.

“They suit you.” I said what I was expected to say.

I was serious. The glasses were really nice. The fact that her eyes looked of different sizes did not make her look strange, just interesting. It was only a slight asymmetry in her face. I found myself thinking about her as a woman. In fact, I suddenly found her sexy. She took a deep breath, her breasts moved up and down, looked at her glass of beer and asked calmly:

“How many diopters do you have?”

“Minus sixteen.” I said.

“Oh, that’s a number! They're much stronger than mine. Minus sixteen, it means you're very nearsighted.”

“Yes.”

“Are you corrected to normal vision?”

“Yes, I am.” I did not feel like going into details for the obvious reason, but it seemed she wanted to keep the topic for a while.

“Can you drive?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t want to be too curious, Bob, I’m just asking 'cause one doesn’t see such special glasses too often. I do not want to make you nervous.”

I was nervous. I could not help myself.

“You've worn much weaker glasses when we worked together, I think, you haven’t got used to wearing these new ones. Don’t worry, it’ll get better. You’ll get used to the looks other people give you. It ain't a problem of yours; it’s a problem of those who think your glasses are too thick. Get it?”

I probably looked very nervous and unhappy. She was visibly trying to help me. I tried to buck up.

“You are right,” I said, “I have not got used to wearing them yet. I know it will be better after a time.”

“Right. What’s your afternoon program?”

“Oh, just walking round the town seeing things.” I answered. “I wanted to see some more of those historic buildings.”

“Have you seen the Black Tower and the exhibition in it?”

I had not seen that. It showed there was an exhibition of old weaponry and armory from the times when the town was an important fortress. I suggested her to go there together, as Jenny was alone in the town and I could not find any reason to get rid of her any more. Her positive attitude was pleasant and I suddenly found her quite attractive. How come, I had not notice she is quite a nice person when we were colleagues?

We walked along the streets to the tower and I stole glimpses of her glasses. The fronts of her lenses curved out about 5 or 6 millimeters. As they were plus lenses I could see her eyes, only when she looked straight at me I had the possibility to realize she was very farsighted. I thought her peripheral vision was much smaller than mine.

We saw the tower together and some other places of interest and had a dinner in another restaurant. We did not speak about glasses for the rest of the day. I offered her to give her a ride home in the evening. Initially, I had wanted to put my contact lenses out and drive in my normal glasses, but when I offered her to go home in my car I realized I would have to drive with my strong glasses on. I had never driven with GOC before. Jenny accepted my offer and there was no way how to avoid driving with the unusual combination of lenses I was wearing. I drove slowly and carefully. As the kilometers passed I was becoming more confident. This way I learned my GOC was calculated really well. I was lucky.

When I stopped in front of her house I said: “Here we are.”

“Thank you very much for a nice Saturday and the drive home.” said Jenny.

“I should thank you for a nice afternoon.” I said.

“Well,” she said, “It was nice.”

I was silent for a moment not knowing if I should ask her for a date. I took a breath.

“May I …”

“Yes.” she said quickly looking in front of herself, without letting me finish the sentence.

We started laughing. I looked at her sitting beside me in the dark car. She had changed her glasses to a pair with clear lenses during the dinner. The glasses rather slid down her nose. She pushed them up and turned her face back to me. I was looking into those big brown eyes and wanted to ask her for a date really badly.

“On Wednesday?” We said at the same time.

When we were kissing, our glasses clicked several times. It turned me on like hell.

Leaving my car Jenny looked at me and said:

“The glasses are not horrible. You look hot in them.”

The only thing I was not clear about at all was how I would explain Jenny my wearing glasses over contacts.

Written by Bobby in 2005

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