Vicariously Yours,

Lesiurely Burdening

Friday evening before Marcelo's appointment, Isabella had been lucky when her client who booked a session right before Marcelo's had gone out for vacation leaving her with an empty slot.

She had gone down to the small food cart that was parked right in front of her office building. Asking for a couple chicken and mayo sandwiches, she waited for her change and packet as she looked up at her old rickety office building.

It wasn't the new shiny ones which one often sees in New York. It was the aged and wearied, probably dated in 1900s and the elevators here were like 100 years old. They were the horizontal scissor gate elevators that should not still exist but they are and still in working conditions.

The smell of squalid lifestyle was wavering over. People with long dark coats walked along the pavements. Mostly, the working burgeoning community laid in this business center.

Many companies were lodged in the seven different floors of this building. Hers was on the fourth floor. She could see her huge French window over looking down the street.

"Here you go." The vendor handed her packet and some change. Slipping the change into her handbag, she began to walk back into the building as she ate her sandwich. Her heels clicked the old marble floor as she went towards the elevator.

Pressing the button marking an arrow which turned upwards, she skimmed her fingers through her ponytail. Finishing the two sandwiches, she washed it down with some water. She hadn't eaten the whole day and this was a good break.

She liked food and her own company. It gave her the rightness feeling all the time. Food for her was a great sort of comfort. In fact, it was bordering to the line of craving to fill that empty hole she had in her. She knew the beginnings of this hole.

So dark and hollow that it seemed only food could keep it filled. She had grown fat in her teen years and knowing she needed a change in her lifestyle, she quickly took to yoga and immediately was able to burn down what she ate. And this became her routine.

Eat, exercise, her practice and sleep. Repeat and repeat. However, a change had caused a deep trench in this routine of hers.

She noticed the time on her watch. It was close to Marcelo's appointment and her heart already sped up in anticipation.

She felt like she was about to vomit. She hated feeling like this, especially towards him. He wasn't anyone she would associate. Or anything like that, despite what she might feel otherwise. Not that she felt anything.

He was callous, rude and was unavailable. That was it. She can't contemplate on this anymore. It were the given circumstances yet she knew she had guilty indulgence ever since she had met him.

At night often, she dream up scenarios where he would all alone with her, in her room. There, lying in her bed, naked and she was shivering in delight before the scene could go on. She was never able to finish that because it made her sensitive. Ultra-sensitive that just the thought of him lying there naked in her bed was enough.

The lift finally reached her floor when a manly hand with stark blue veins flowing through the mighty knuckles came to grab the handle on the lift's gate just as she was about to.

Her eyes closed in annoyance.

"Baby doll."

Tremors danced down her spine when she felt his breath near her neck. He stood close. A little too close for her liking. The smell of sandalwood immediately waved into her, bringing her pussy clenching for mercy.

Licking her lips, she simply slanted a cold look over her shoulder at Marcelo. Her breath hitched when she noticed what he was wearing today.

A straight black leather jacket and from the looks of it, he didn't wear anything else inside.
It was freezing outside. How could he tolerate it?