Old Glasses Ch. 01

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Recovering spectacles from a gang & giving them to a widow.
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Tarbut
Tarbut
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John is really shortsighted, and his myopia is now compounded by presbyopia, so he has to change his eyeglasses. His optician recycles old glasses thru the local chapter of Lions, so John willingly gives him his own.

But the optician has a hefty backlog, so, when the jeweler nearby closes the shop and greets him, he asks him a favor: to collect the old glasses and bring them to the Lions dropoff location.

The jeweler accepts, as the location is near his bank; meanwhile John's ophthalmologist phones him.

"Hi, doc," John answers, "What's the matter?"

"Do you still have your old eyeglasses?"

"Not quite. Why are you asking me about them?"

"Because I have a patient I'm taking care of 'pro bono', i. e. for free, and she needs eyeglasses like yours.

She is a widow with two little children, and she can't work without glasses. If she buys them, they won't cost her less than $300, if you give her yours ..."

"The problem is that I've just disposed of my eyeglasses. I've given them to my optician, who is turning them to the Lions."

"To the Lions? Don't worry, I'm a Lions member and I will trace them. Thank you very much."

"You're welcome."

Soon after the phone call, the newscasts interview a jeweler who has just been robbed:

"Are you OK now?"

"So and so. Even though the loot was of trifle value, I've been very scared."

"Of trifle value?"

"Another shopkeeper asked me to bring something to a location near my bank; I accepted, but took my takings out of my briefcase and replaced them with the things I was asked to bring.

When the robbers approached me, they didn't have the time to search my car, so they fled with just my briefcase."

"You've been quite lucky and cunning."

"Perhaps. But I'd like to ask the robbers to turn the loot to the police -- even though it's of trifle commercial value, lots of people need it."

John and Jane recognize the jeweler as John's optician's neighbor, and realize that the 'loot of trifle commercial value' was most likely made up of old eyeglasses -- so the widow won't receive John's glasses.

John phones the ophthalmologist, telling him the bad news, and Jane scolds the optician by phone.

The optician replies, "Ms. Jane, lots of shopkeepers have been robbed lately -- even one who just sells macaroni. I think that the robbers haven't eaten anything but spaghetti for a quarter.

The police don't have a clue, even though the witnesses' and victims' descriptions of the felons are all alike."

"May I interview the jeweler and some other victims?"

"Tomorrow morning? Maybe. But I don't think that you'll succeed in what the police have failed so far."

The next day, John and Jane meet the jeweler; they choose a heavy filigree necklace for Jane, and ask the jeweler something about the robbery.

"Why are you so interested at it?"

"Because I had given the optician my glasses half an hour before I was told that a poor widow badly needed just them.

If we don't find them within a few days, her employer will fire her."

"I don't think you'll find them very fast. This gang has been harassing us shopkeepers for more than a year, and we've noticed that they dispose of trifles several weeks after the robbery.

Moreover, they often smoke the items, probably in order to destroy fingerprints and DNA samples.

By the way, my insurance has an excess clause of $5,000, and had I really been robbed, I'd have been short of them.

So I'll be more than willing to pay the $300 the widow's eyeglasses will probably cost."

"John's optician won't be able to make them in time anyway. We have no choice than finding the robbers. Could you describe them?"

"You can ask anything of me, madam. There were eight robbers on six cars. One stopped in front of me, the other behind me, and then a gunman blasted out from each car.

They had AK-47 rifles; my car is bulletproof, but couldn't withstand these rifles' shots, so I had to surrender the briefcase.

Then four Porsche's approached, and the gunmen and the drivers that had brought them to the crime scene got into the cars, which disappeared before the police could arrive."

"Could you describe these people?"

"They were all males, in their twenties, tall and agile. They were more like professional sportsmen than professional robbers."

"It may explain why the police hasn't got a clue yet. If no conviction has yet been bestowed on them, the police may not know them."

"Right, madam. They may not be our neighbors, but they apparently know our neighborhood well."

"Were the robbers well coordinated?"

"Yes, they exactly knew what to do and didn't even say a word."

"There is a renowned high school nearby, isn't there?"

"Yes, sir. What's your opinion?"

"Perhaps the robbers are alumni of this school, who were in the same sports team."

"The police share your opinion, but haven't been able to find incriminating evidence against anybody.

Sorry, that's all I know."

Jane then spends the whole day perusing old digitalized newspapers in order to find news about the sports teams from that school, but surrenders at last.

"What's the problem, Jane?"

"The suspected high school has never had a soccer or baseball team -- sports with 11 or 9 players' teams. So, how could these eight robbers assemble?"

"Couldn't they be the merger of two basketball teams? Or a basketball team with its reserves?"

"You may be right ... the greatest coordination is required among the first drivers and the gunmen, while the other four drivers need little more than being able to blaze their escape way."

Jane now focuses on the basketball teams, and on another sport.

"Eureka! Matzati! I found it!"

"What have you found?"

"The swimming team! Swimming is both an individual and a team sport."

"And the swimming relay features just four swimmers, who coordinate among themselves without saying a word!"

"Should we inform the police?"

"I wouldn't do that, because if we are mistaken, we would be guilty of libel.

We'd better talk to an attorney first -- he'll be able to modulate our suspects into doubts, and have the police help us."

"I know how to get some evidence, John."

The suspects are four men aged 22: Jack Grocer, Ron Smith, Matt Taylor and Phil Teller. They often meet in a bar in which they just drink lemonade.

Jane enters the bar and asks the bartender to add some mint leaves to her lemonade -- since the bartender lacks them, she takes a satchel out of her pocket and drops some leaves into the drink.

A woman with an I-cup breast may not go unnoticed, and Matt Taylor asks her: "Excuse me, madam, what are you adding to the lemonade?"

"Mint. It makes lemonade very tasty. Would you like to try it?"

"I and my friends enjoy lemonade, and would love to. Would you like to sit at our table?"

"Ok."

Jane sits among them, pours mint into their lemonade glasses, and, as promised, the lemonade becomes pretty good.

"Where have you learnt to add mint to the lemonade?"

"It's a common Israeli drink. The Bible says that the Promised Land is the land of milk and honey; I say that it's the land of lemonade with mint."

"Are you Jewish?"

"No, but I managed to learn some Hebrew. By the way, why are you the only customers here abstaining from booze?"

"We are sportsmen, and booze impairs our performance. So we content ourselves with lemonade."

"Which sport?"

"Swimming. We compose a relay team, and participate to all state swimming championships."

"Do you earn very much?"

"We aren't professionals, and we earn our living otherwise. My name is Matt, and I work in a lingerie shop; he is Jack, and he cooks in a fashionable restaurant; Ron is a car repairman; Phil works in a bank.

We aren't rich, but we love our jobs. How about you, madam?"

"My name is Jane; I telecommute as a software developer. I'm married, but hubby has lost any interest for me."

The swimmers watch Jane's tits and laugh their heads off.

"I love being in the nude at home, and that was my mistake -- if nakedness becomes a habit, it engenders boredom, not excitation."

"We disagree -- in training and competition we meet lots of quasi-naked women, and we've never developed tolerance!"

"But we've developed addiction: the more we see, the more we crave for it!"

"Perhaps female swimmers are prettier than me."

"No. On our honor, no. You're the best-looking woman we've met."

"I couldn't figure a cuter client for my shop," Matt adds; Jane looks at him intently and he says, "We also make custom lingerie, if you allow us to take your measures."

"I'll be more than happy to do that. It isn't easy to find a bra that fits me, and a fitting pair of glasses too."

"You need glasses?"

"I'm now wearing contact lenses, but they don't correct my eyesight completely. I can see that you all are cute, but without my eyeglasses I can't appreciate your full beauty."

"What has happened to your glasses?"

"My husband gave them by mistake to the Lions club, and I've been unable to retrieve them so far.

I've ordered a new pair, but it won't be ready for a week."

"Would you like to peruse my collection of eyeglasses, Jane?" Matt asks, "They are of all shapes and lens power, so you might find the one that fits you."

Jane laughs and answers, "And in the meantime you'll take my bodily measures. Ok, I accept."

So Matt and Jane bid farewell to his friends, and go to his apartment.

"This is the key to my flat," Matt says, "I have to go to the cellar to fetch my eyeglasses' collection."

Jane enters the apartment, finds it tidy and clean, full of good books about sports, textiles, art, philosophy, even medicine, and regrets that she has to have him arrested, if ...

"Jane, here are the glasses," Matt says while bringing in a cardboard box full of used eyeglasses, and Jane instantaneously finds John's goggles.

She removes her disposable contact lenses, puts the glasses on, adapts her own eyes to their lens power, and ascertains that they really are her husband's.

"Excellent! They really fit my eyes. Thanks, Matt.

Are you able to provide me with the right lingerie as well?"

"If I take your measures now, it'll be ready by Friday evening."

Jane doesn't waste time in answering -- she slowly removes her shoes, her coat, her pullover, her skirt, her shirt, her stockings, her panties, her bra, and raises her arms over her head.

Matt gulps with delight, takes a tape measure, and Jane's measures with it:

- Height: 5"5'

- Overbust: 45"

- Underbust: 32"

- Waist: 22"

- Hip: 30"

"Your measures are incredible -- it's nearly impossible to find a woman with such features. And there is no sign of cosmetic surgery on your body!

My heartfelt compliments! Have you ever thought about participating in a beauty contest?"

"No, Matt, I wouldn't be at my ease. Could I become a good swimmer instead?"

"Your bust is too big for speed swimming, and I wouldn't sacrifice it. You might become a good synchronized swimmer, and I could introduce you to an excellent coach."

Matt strokes Jane's arms and shoulders, hugs her, and Jane hugs him in turn, letting him feel her big bust against his breast, but then says, "Gosh!"

"What's the matter?"

"I'm afraid that I've started menstruating."

"Don't worry, it doesn't upset me. Tomorrow I'll wash the sheets."

"But it does upset me. Look!"

Jane puts a hand under her vulva, strokes it, and collects some blood gushing from it.

"Oh, I understand. Wait a minute, darling."

Matt goes to the bedroom, opens a drawer and gives Jane a sanitary towel.

"Thanks, Matt. Why do you keep such ware in your house?"

"Women often find themselves in this predicament. What are you going to do now?"

"I'd like to go home, Matt. Sorry, you're the kindest man I've found, and one of the most handsome, but I cannot do anything while I am in this 'predicament'. I even find difficult to work in these conditions."

"Ok, I'll bring you home. By the way, regular physical activity, like swimming, may help you with that."

Jane dresses, and Matt takes her home. There he finds John, the jeweler he robbed the day before, a police constable, and the widow the ophthalmologist promised John's old glasses.

Matt says, "You've diddled me, Jane. You're not just beautiful, but also cunning. My compliments."

Jane, almost weeping, replies, "Matt, why didn't you dispose of the old glasses as soon as you realized what they were?

Because you four aren't as ruthless as the stereotypical street robber, and you were going to return them as soon as you could do that without being apprehended.

Sorry, that widow needed them pronto, so I had to dupe you."

"I should have ..."

"I don't think you're a rapist either, Matt, or a murderer. I only risked falling in love with you."

"Did you ..."

"Matt, I just hope that your counsel will take you out of prison as soon as possible. I'm sorry that you chose to become robbers and not honest professionals."

The constable says, "If he tells us the names of the other four drivers, he'll get a substantial mitigation of sentence," recites the Miranda formula, shackles Matt and, before taking him to prison, he tells the widow, "I'm sorry to say that your glasses are a piece of evidence we need at tomorrow's trial.

I have to take them into custody until conviction."

The widow replies, "You've recorded the whole talk between Matt and Jane through her hacked cellphone. Isn't it enough?"

"Sorry madam, without the glasses the talk is of little value. But the conviction is expected by tomorrow afternoon. Can't you wait until that?"

"I'll do," the widow says, and goes out with the jeweler.

Once they are alone, Jane takes out the sanitary towel Matt gave her and wonders, "Perhaps I should frame it. It's the best love token I've had from a man."

John replies, "I couldn't give you any because you're not a real woman, but a shapeshifter, and you've never menstruated until tonight."

"I'm sorry about Matt ... he deserved me, but he should have met me before I had married you, and he shouldn't have become a violent criminal."

"Don't be so harsh ... he and his teammates have never fired a shot in their robberies."

"You're right, but ... he could have never replaced you. I love you, John."

"I love you, Jane."

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