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She’d catch herself giving a co-worker the side eye and wondering if their panties were soaking wet, too. Or if that guy sitting at the desk was hiding a massive hard-on under the desktop. No, of course, they weren’t. They didn’t have Him.It took her two months or more to accept he was just what he presented himself to be. She just knew it had to be an act, some studied performance or sociopath defense mechanism at work. No one was that in control of themselves. No one moved that perfectly. No one didn’t fuck up at least half the time. No one went about their life constantly respected and respecting others that way. Eventually, she grew tired of trying to wake herself up from a dream. “Okay,” she finally told herself,” He’s real. And he wants me!”And he just rang the doorbell to my apartment…Damn, she actually had to stop herself from instantly dropping to her knees and kissing his cock when she opened the door. “Keep it together, damn it!” she silently told herself.Of course, he. " I know, but she just doesn't want to have to deal with all the guys leering at your sexy dress." I leered at her exaggeratedly.She blushed, "Do you really think I'm sexy?"I smiled warmly, "Yeah, you're a very beautiful girl, PJ. Very sexy." I walked over to the fridge and got out a chilled flute with the champagne bottle."Please call me Patricia, PJ sounds like a kid's name." She saw the magnum, "You're having champagne! Can I, like, uhm, can I have some too? Please?" Sure, I think it's OK." I retrieved a second chilled flute. The bottle opened with a satisfying 'pop', and I poured two glasses of the bubbling liquid.We toasted our good fortune, and wished our siblings luck in their new life together. The meal was delicious, and the magnum half-gone when we finished due to our thirst. I could feel a good buzz, and Patricia (not PJ anymore!) was feeling it as well. I took our disposable dishes and popped them into the trashcan, and when I turned around noticed Patricia shifting her.
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