by Tom the HungarianThis story is not a fantasy. It is - at least - approximately true. It happened many years ago, right after the end of the Second World War when I left Hungary to escape from the Communist threat. My first stop was in France where I attended University at Grenoble, a charming little city in the foothills of the Alps. I was taking a course in French for foreigners in a class attended by students of many nationalities.
The very first time I attended class I noticed two blond girls, obviously Scandinavian, sitting in the front row. One of them was very pretty, with long shiny hair, very blue eyes and a nicely developed body. But it was the other girl who interested me. She was very tall, far less attractive, with short hair, skinny and a little flat-chested. What drew my immediate attention to her was that she was wearing very thick minus lenses and when reading or writing she looked at the page with her nose practically touching it. I also noticed that she removed her glasses immediately the class came to an end. This surprised me a lot because she was obviously extremely myopic and must have been practically blind without her glasses. I was, in my early twenties, already a devoted glasses fetishist and found this very exciting.
I did not work up the courage to talk to her for a few weeks partly because my French (the lingua franca in this multinational community of students) was so poor and partly out of shyness. Finally, however, I did start a conversation with the two girls after class. I found out that they were Norwegian. The name of the tall one with glasses was Sigrid which sounded to me romantically Nordic and Wagnerian. She turned out to be quite timid and shy but bright and well educated. She was horribly self-conscious of her glasses and - blind as she was for all practical purposes - never allowed herself to be seen in them unless it was essential for her to wear them. The other, prettier one, was a lot livelier, with a great deal of charm, very sexy and with a lot of social skills which her friend lacked. We had lunch together at the cafeteria that day. After that a friendship developed between me and the two girls. We had lunch together regularly and talked quite often at school. It was obvious to me that both girls thought that I was interested in Clement, the pretty one, and not Sigrid, the tall, myopic, shy one. Little did they know!
I was trying to figure out a way to go out just with Sigrid but it was difficult. Those two girls were inseparable. They went everywhere together, did everything together. There was a kind of symbiotic relationship between the two with Clement, the worldly one, taking care of her shy, somewhat helpless and very timid friend and getting some kind of mental or moral satisfaction for her good deeds in supporting a friend. Finally I suggested to the two of them that we go to a movie to which they eagerly agreed. As we entered the cinema that evening, Clement stopped us for a moment and said to me, using the French form of my name addressing me,
"Nicolas, there is one little problem... We need to sit close to the screen or else Sigrid can't see!"
Sigrid turned bright red in the face in embarrassment and immediately protested,
"No, no, no, it's alright... Wherever it is convenient for Nicolas will be alright for me."
"But sitting close to screen is exactly what I like," - I exclaimed. - "I am very nearsighted myself and prefer to sit there."
"You are not just saying this to help me," - Sigrid responded. But after I reassured her she was quite happy and we, in fact, sat in the front row. What I said was, of course a white lie. I was nearsighted and wore glasses with about -5.50 (and in addition a fair amount of astigmatism) lenses but my visual acuity was fine and I had pretty close to 20/20 vision with my glasses.
We were doing things as a threesome for several weeks before I finally decided that I had to do something about it. The two girls did not live together. Each had rented a room with a different french family. So one afternoon I just walked up to the apartment where Sigrid lived and asked for her. The French landlady appeared to be delighted to have a male friend appear on the scene and called Sigrid who appeared, coming from her room a few moments later. She wore her specs but as soon as she saw me she blushed and quickly removed them. She obviously delighted with my visit and immediately agreed to go for a walk with me. We proceeded up to the hills on the far side of the Isere River which divides Grenoble into two unequal parts. I knew that the view from up there was spectacular. I took Sigrid to a somewhat isolate bench, in a romantic setting of bushes and flowerbed which I had located some time earlier. And we sat down together to admire the view. I was saying enthusiastic and poetic things about it when I suddenly realized that Sigrid was doing some heavy duty squinting and probably saw nothing of the view.
"Why don't you put on your glasses?" - I asked her. - "You'd see the view better."
To my intense surprise she admitted that she had not brought her glasses for the walk! It was really inconceivable to me how someone as nearsighted as she was could do that. So, I offered her my own to use.
"O, thank you," - she said with obvious embarrassment. - "but I don't think yours would be strong enough for me."
"Maybe not but surely they are better than nothing." - I answered and handed her my specs. She put them on and looked but I very soon realized that they were only marginally helpful and that she could still only see a big colored blur. Since she could not enjoy the view, which had been my reason for bringing her up there, I decided to entertain her differently. I moved closer, put my arms around her shoulder and - after an unconvincing little struggle - she allowed me to kiss her for the first time.
We were going out together regularly and Clement had quite willingly distanced herself all the more willingly since she also acquired a boyfriend, a Dutch student. The second time I took Sigrid to a movie - this time just the two of us, without Clement - we sat again in the front. I would have much preferred to sit in the back where most couples sat usually engaged in activities more interesting than watching the movie but Sigrid did actually want to see the film. As soon as the movie came to an end and we stood up, Sigrid, in her usual manner, quickly took off her glasses. I grabbed her hand and said,
"Sigrid, you don't have to take off your specs... do you think your wearing them makes a difference to me?"
"O, but they are so ugly..." - she answered.
"What do I care about them? Even if they are, you are still beautiful!"
I am not beautiful!"
"You are for me! And wouldn't it be more pleasant for you to be able to see?"
She was very moved by this conversation and actually left the movie house wearing her glasses. She also admitted to me that, when we first started to go out as a threesome with Clement, she thought that I really liked her friend.
If I thought that I had succeeded in changing her attitude towards her glasses and that she would henceforward wear them, I was wrong. She still continued removing them just as soon as she did not absolutely need them. She was still convinced that they were horribly ugly and made her unattractive as a woman. I did not have the guts to confess to her my glasses fetish. I was afraid that she would consider it sick and perverted. At that time I did not realize that I was not the only, single person in the world with this fetish.
I had asked Sigrid on a couple of occasions to let me try her glasses but she always firmly refused. When I asked her why she did so, her answer was just simply "Because!". Not much of an explanation but, of course, I realized that she was embarrassed by the strength of her lenses and did not want me to be fully aware of their strength. The opportunity for trying on her glasses, however, did arise soon enough. I was visiting her at her apartment and we were sitting in her bed-sitting room chatting when she decided to leave the room to make coffee for us. I knew that this would take her a few minutes and I decided on a quick search to find her specs. I found them soon enough in her desk drawer and quickly put them on. I could see practically nothing, they were so strong. But I did not have the courage to ask her how strong they were.
So I started thinking on how I could break her habit and finally decided on a very simple, direct, straightforward method. We had agreed on an excursion to the countryside one Sunday. Since neither one of us had a car or the money to rent one, we were planning to travel by bus. I went to Sigrid's apartment to pick her up and she appeared, dressed in shorts, ready for the trip but without her glasses.
"Sigrid," - I announced, - "I want you to wear your glasses for this trip!"
"Why? You know I hate them!" - she answered.
"We are going to a beautiful area in the Alps and I want you to be able to see them."
She protested and argued but when I, finally, said to her, "Sigrid, do you really think it will make a difference to me whether you do or do not wear specs?" she gave in and put them on.
She never suspected that it did indeed make a big difference to me: I just loved them and loved her all the more for wearing them!
My next and even more difficult project was to persuade Sigrid to keep her glasses on when we were kissing and smooching. It was hard to find a rational argument for this since seeing well is hardly a requirement for those purposes. The opportunity came one day - we were on another one of our Sunday excursions, lying on a blanket on the lovely soft grass of an Alpine meadow - when I took her by surprise suddenly grasping and embracing her and without allowing a moment for her to recover I started kissing. Our glasses clashed resoundingly.
"O let me take this off," - she exclaimed but I did not let her do it. We grappled and struggled and wrestled most enjoyably. Finally, exhausted and happy, we relaxed and she said,
"I wish you had let me take off my specs!"
"But I don't want you to do that! I like you wearing glasses!"
"I don't believe you're serious!"
"I swear, it's true!" - And suddenly I realized this was the moment of truth and the time to confess. - "Sigrid, I swear to you that I have a weakness for women who wear glasses! I have had it for years and I do not understand myself but I am attracted to them."
This was indeed a turning point. Sigrid believed me and from then on she wore her glasses comfortably whenever I was present. Her only complaint was that I made her get used to them to such an extent that she was, from then on, unable to function without her glasses. I also had the courage to ask her about the strength of her lenses. They were - 15.00 and -17.50. There was also some astigmatism involved but I no longer recall how much.
The weeks were passing and the time was approaching for her return to Norway. And she was still a virgin! Yes, indeed, it may be hard to believe in today's world but in 1949 there were still 19-year old virgins around. I tried and tried to persuade her but without success. She just would not agree. We went a long way and she satisfied me with her gentle and skilled hands just as I satisfied her with my fingers. But not the real thing! Finally, time was running out and I used this fact as my most forceful argument. On another occasion of an excursion, on a lonely clearing of a pine forest, I got her real excited and said that she would regret for the rest of her life if she missed the opportunity. She did not respond and I thought I had failed. I was upset and truly sad because I really loved her.
That evening, we were in her room talking and kissing. I had giving up hope to persuade her to go all the way with me. We worked up a considerable excitement, however and when she excused herself to go to the bathroom, I thought this was just another excuse for her to find an opportunity to cool down and not to have sex with me. A few minutes later, she came back to the room and - to my surprise - she had changed into her dressing gown. I looked at her wondering as she stood at the door. Then she dropped off the gown and stood there start naked, wearing only her glasses!
The rest I leave to your imagination. In any case it would be X-rated!
THE HAPPY ENDING!