It was late when Patrick drove up into the parking-lot. It must have been have been one in the morning, and yet he was there. There being the apartment complex of Sandra. She had suggested he come over almost jokingly, and yet he jumped at the chance eagerly. He knew how to take advantage, he knew how to manipulate. His guilt was still kicking in as he walked across the empty parking lot and made his way up the stairs.
"What I'm doing...is it wrong?" he asked himself, knowing full-well that it was wrong and then some. Yet he had a need that could not simply be ignored, an unearthly obsession as it was. The need to watch a woman writhe in pleasure, the need to be loved, worshipped...even if only physically. He could see it in her eye, as they worked side-by-side during the day, and he could hear it in her conversation as they playfully flirted back and forth. She wanted him. That was what made it okay to him, that was what helped nullify the self-loathing inside. Yes, he might very well hate himself: his looks, his personality, his past; and yet to others he was "nice", "sweet" and his favorite "sexy". It was amazing the strange things other people saw when he was with them, it was astonishing too that other people could even have the notion of being with him.
Though some inkling of why occasionally leaked through his anti-ego, realizations that his body was firm and slender, almost like that of a woman, but his arms and chest were muscular and lean. He was tan in all the right faces, and often times he was mistaken for full-blooded Italians though he was more or less Spanish and Irish. He was polite to a fault, and he truly, honestly cared about other people's feelings. From time to time it could be said he was in love with the human race, and yet with all that said and done he was a victim of his own vices. He thought of all this as Sandra opened the door.
"Hey you.." she said.
Sandra was just twenty, she had twins from a past relationship when she was only sixteen. She wasn't beautiful in the model sense, no...but she had an aura about her, and a sensual look. She was beautiful, her body plump in all the right places, sexy and seductive. She had a shy smile and hungry eyes, and a past that kindled something of a hunger in Patrick. He knew that Sandra wasn't one to play around, he knew she would give in to him if he acted correctly. And to act correctly all he had to do was act himself. He slid his arms around her soft waist and gave her a friendly hug before looking her up and down, noting her tight white t-shirt and skimpy plaid skirt, before telling her how beautiful she looked. As he said it, he looked into her eyes, and she seemed to cower shyly away as she pulled him into the room.
"I look horrible, I had just gotten ready for bed when you decided to come over. I had to throw something on!" she said in a mock defensive tone.
"Well I think you look beautiful, and if you'd let me I'd probably have you on the floor in a matter of seconds." She looked down, breaking the gaze, and Patrick merely pressed on with his eyes. He was used to it, other people didn't often look one another in the eyes, and people were taught to be shamed by compliments. Sandra smiled, her face red. Patrick knew she was almost uncomfortable by his honesty...everything he told her, everything subjective, he believed to the fullest. There were no doubts in his mind that Sandra was in fact beautiful, and not merely physically in his estimation. That's why he wanted to make her cum so badly, because he loved her. Oh, he wasn't "in love" with her, but he judged her to be a good person, and wanted to help her find a bit of pleasure in the midst of stressful times.
