Lolita's story

Posted to Eye Scene in July 1999 by an unknown author

My name is not, of course, really LOLITA but my mom started calling me that when I was 15 and it kind of stuck. So here I am, Lolita, if you please. And here is my story.

I am not the brightest girl you ever met, I'm ready to admit. I managed to get through high school but never seriously considered college. What for? All I wanted was to find a nice looking dude with a bit of money, marry him and enjoy myself for the rest of my life. What else is there to life? So I went to secretarial school and found a pretty good job with a large privately owned company. The personnel manager didn't check my credentials too closely because he was concentrating on my boobs and legs. I worked in the export department, probably because I spoke Spanish (my mom is Mexican). The boss of the department happened to be the son of the owner, a hellova handsome guy of about 25 who wore $3000 suits, had a gold Rolex watch, drove a Porsche sports car and wanted to do the least possible work at the office. Just the kind of guy I was looking for! His name was Jim and we, at the office, called him 'Jimmy Boy’. So I did my best to draw his attention, wore the shortest of skirts, tightest of tops, the highest heels, dyed my hair the oddest colors, had my nose and ears pierced for lots of rings. When I walked where he could see me a moved my hips and ass in the sexiest way I knew how. What else can a nice girl do to draw attention? Nothing worked! He paid no attention.

Then something real strange and unexpected happened. I have always been blind as a bat but hated wearing glasses especially as I needed to use pretty strong lenses. I was convinced that specs made a girl unattractive, kind of bookish, the librarian type. So I always used contacts. Then, however, one day I found my eyes red and smarting and my doctor ordered me to stop using contacts for a few days, until the inflammation goes away. So, for the first time ever, with the greatest reluctance, I went to work wearing specs with my strong lenses of -6.50 and -7.75, not even mentioning quite a bit of astigmatism (I know this is spelled right, I looked it up in my dictionary). And guess what! Jimmy Boy noticed me! He not only noticed me but kept watching me, talked to me and asked me for a drink after work!

We had a drink and he was as charming as could be. The next evening he took me to the poshest restaurant I've ever been and then a disco. I would not go up to his apartment though even though I was dying to find out how good he was in bed. I thought it best to play hard to get. By the time of our next date, my eyes were ok again and I put in my contacts. Was I surprised! Jimmy Boy was devastated. I had a hard time getting him to tell me what was wrong but, finally, he did. He admitted that he was attracted to girls who wore glasses! He was embarrassed about it but I made it easy. I told him that I hated contacts and enjoyed wearing glasses. It was big lie but he believed me and from then on I always wore my specs at the office and when we went out.

It was about time for me to have my annual eye examination and when I told Jimmy Boy about it, he got excited and wanted to come with me. When the doctor found that I needed an additional -0.50 in both eyes, he was in ecstasy, came with me to the optician's store and bought me three pairs of most expensive designers' frames with the new prescription.

The next few months were like a dream! The best restaurants, nightclubs and discos, weekends in Vegas, a week in Paris, France, presents of designers' clothes and jewelry. After a while, I relented of my standoffish behavior and we established that we got on pretty well in bed too even though it was strange that he insisted on me wearing glasses even for making love!

Jimmy Boy took me for a long weekend to his Daddy's condo at Aspen, Colorado and got me to take skiing lessons. I was unquestionably the worst student ever visited Aspen but managed not to break any bones in my body. It was the last evening of this weekend when we had a very serious conversation. He told me that he loved me, loved me more than any woman he ever knew and wanted to stay with me for the rest of his life. I thought this was a marriage proposal which I was, of course, ready to accept with alacrity. But then he added something worrying. He said that there was just one thing about me that did not fully satisfy him.
"What is it?" - I asked quite a bit upset.
"You know how I love women in glasses," - he answered. - "And you know that the thicker the lenses, the more they excite me. Yours are not quite thick enough."
"I'm sorry, but there isn't much I can do about that! My eyes do seem to be getting worse though..."
"That's too slow for me and, in any case, it's not likely to continue as you get older. But, actually, there is something you can do about it!"
This surprised me a good deal and I asked what he had in mind.
"I'd like you to consider," - he replied, - "having lenses implanted in your eyes that would make you more nearsighted and then you'd need to wear thicker lenses. That would make me happy and make me feel sure that you are the right woman for me for the rest of my life!"

I didn't have much to think about this. So, I will be a little blinder and wear thicker lenses? What's the big deal? This guy is what the doctor prescribed for me: handsome, fun to be with and - most importantly - loaded with money! I agreed without hesitation and asking too many questions.

A couple of weeks later we were in Mexico where a doctor had agreed (no doubt for an enormous fee!) to perform this operation of dubious legality. It was a nice modern clinic and Dr. Vargas was experienced, so I had no worry. It was outpatient surgery. Since they knew exactly what prescription I'd need after the implants, they told me that my new glasses would be ready for me immediately after the operation.

A couple of hours after the implant surgery, they took me to the doctor's office and, with me sitting in the regular examination chair, they removed the bandages off my eyes. I had an enormous shock! I couldn't see anything. It was all one big blur all around me. I was not able to see the eye chart itself, let alone read any of the letters on it. I knew that Jimmy Boy was in the room, I had heard his voice, but I was unable to see even the vaguest outlines of his body. In response to my desperate exclamation, the doctor said that he had my glasses ready and he put them on my nose. Things came into focus. I could not see as well as i did with my glasses prior to the implant operation, but it was not bad. It was only when I moved my head to see Jimmy Boy that a problem came to light: I discovered that there was enormous distortion around the edges of my lenses and that I could see only through the center of them. Jimmy Boy jumped up and ran to me. He hugged and kissed me repeatedly and shouted with enthusiasm that I was gorgeous, the most beautiful woman he ever saw! At this point I asked for a mirror to look at myself and the nurse handed me one. I almost fainted! My lenses were about an inch thick! There were rings within rings within rings and my eyes appeared so small as to be practically invisible! I have never seen anything as ugly in my life! I started crying and became hysterical. It took a long time to calm me. The fact that that the best visual acuity they could achieve was 20/60 - which meant I could no longer drive - did not put me in a better mood. I finally got around asking about the strength of my lenses. It was Jimmy Boy who answered.
"I wanted you to have -40 lenses but Dr. Vargas wouldn't do it. So we compromised on just -30."

I did not fully calm down until he gave a beautiful engagement ring with a 20 carat diamond and until, finally, a month later, we were married.

So, I am now stuck with these horrendous specs and poor eyesight with miserable peripheral vision. But don't feel sorry for me! I can't drive but I have a chauffeur-driven white Rolls at my disposal, a villa at the French Riviera and a penthouse apartment in New York City, a French maid, the best salons of Milan and Paris making my clothes, 374 pairs of shoes and the largest diamond outside of museums. And - most importantly - I have a boyfriend who doesn't mind my glasses which I take off when I am in bed with him where he is a lot better than Jimmy Boy ever was!

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