Bisexual Glasses Novels & Stories

Before going i saw my reflection in the mirror and whispered to myself, “Damn, your girl looks so fine. I’m not about to play with this position.” In about 10 minutes, I arrived at Vans and Sterling Company — and boy, this place was flashy. From the security men dressed in all black uniforms who happily opened the doors for me, to the gleaming polished floors and sky- high walls, I instantly knew I hit the jackpot with this position. “Thank you, Jesus,” I whispered under my breath, fully aware that it was only through Him that I had gotten this spot.

It made her stand out. I was surprised to see she wore glasses. Photochromic lenses obscured her eyes, but they seemed to be the most interesting shade of bluey green. Said glasses didn’t appear to be a prop or some fashion statement either. They seemed to be corrective lenses. What the fuck? Wolves didn’t suffer declines in vision.

And as he emerged from the bathroom, a trendy embodiment of youthful sophistication, I couldn't help but feel a swell of pride at the sight of my handiwork. But there was one crucial detail left to attend to—the black-framed glasses that had become his trademark. With a knowing smile, I gently removed them, revealing the true depth of his eyes for the world to see. I had noticed his short-sightedness matched mine, so I had equipped him with contact lenses, allowing his gaze to shine unobstructed by the familiar frames. The effect was transformative, his eyes suddenly larger, more expressive, radiating a newfound confidence that was impossible to ignore.

Everything was normal that day, I went to work and did nothing I didn't do everyday. I was standing in the front of the mall shoe store and watched some cute girls and some cuter guys walk by. I was bisexual and had to accept just like my parents did. It was hard, their 17 year old baby was bisexual, and they did not have a say. My day turned around when a boy walked in with his mom. He had brown hair with some blonde in the front, with big brown eyes.

There were subtle hickeys around his neck. The caption read, 'The boss said this mirror belongs exclusively to me from now on.' I took a deep breath, but my stomach still churned with disgust. I had sponsored him three years ago. At the time, he had cried while begging me for a chance. He promised he would repay my kindness one day and become a man who could stand tall with pride. Feeling sorry for him and recognizing some genuine talent, I not only funded his education but also made an exception by offering him an internship at Zeller Inc.

Just her name, Derby, written in a precise, elegant script she didn't recognize. Frowning, Derby carried the box to her small kitchen counter. She sliced through the tape, pulling back the tissue paper inside. Her breath caught. Resting in a protective leather case was a sleek, lightweight pair of designer computer glasses. They featured a specific blue-light filtering lens, framed in a delicate, matte-gold titanium. It was the exact model she had stopped to admire in a boutique window weeks ago, off-handedly mentioning to herself how much she needed them because her current pair kept slipping and making her eyes ache.

The whole thing. James stepped back from the window into the shaded part of the room. I moved with him. Since the inside lights were off, we were invisible to anyone outside. I wasn't sure what to expect. I looked down as James unhooked my belt. My cock swelled. "My wife is a cunt. But the business is in her name, and if I divorce her, I'll have to start from scratch. I've been bi-sexual since college. There's a group of us that get together at a condo and play. I got a vibe from Lance and took a chance. Now, you and I can play too. You are interested?"

“She might not have the body that you do, but she’s not a slut. She still has track of her body count, unlike you.” “Please leave.” “What the fuck!” I snapped. “You know what? If you don’t want me, I’d get her to leave you,” I sneered. “Look there.” I glanced towards the door. “You see it, huh?” I said, letting a sly grin spread across my face. “Yes, I got all this on recording, and these glasses aren’t ordinary,” I whispered, removing the glasses. “See, it has a camera. It’s a meta glass, sweetheart .”

Glass dug in. Her breath tore out of her in uneven gasps. “Enough,” Ricardo said. It wasn’t a reprimand. It was a spell in the shape of a command. The lights flickered back on. The room looked like the aftermath of a storm. Glass glittered on every surface. Curtains flapped in the freezing wind. The once perfect windows were jagged teeth. A hairline crack ran up the wall like a lightning scar. Blood streaked the floor beneath Althea. Nerisa appeared at Ricardo’s shoulder, face white.