Blueprints Ch. 01

Meanwhile, Joanna kneeled down behind her, soft hands running up the back of Zara's thigh, before the long awaited sting of the Professor's palm on her bum. "Do you want to cum, baby?" She cooed, her hands getting dangerously close to, Zara's sex as the young woman nodded and pleaded. Zara shuddered as she imagined droplets of spit landing between her cheeks and running down her slit. Suddenly Joanna had thrust two fingers into her and was pumping in hard determined motions.

A thin layer of sweat was forming on Zara's body as she furiously rubbed at herself. Her whole body quivered as she imagined Joanna adding another finger, stretching her, making her cry out in a mix of pain and pleasure. Zara moaned loudly as she used both hands; one to thrust two fingers in and out of her tight pussy and the other one to toy with her clit. She was almost there as she imagined, the older woman pulling at her hair. "Tell me you love it, Zara. Tell me you want me to use you." Of course she did, murmuring so into her pillow. It was then that Joanna pulled harder on her hair, exposing the soft flesh of her neck before biting down. Without needing to think about it, Zara's slender fingers formed a come hither motion, causing friction against that really sensitive spot. This stimulus, plus the thought of, Joanna's fingers working her mercilessly was enough to have Zara's toned body shuddering. Alone, on her belly with shorts around her knees, her cunt milked the two digits as she applied a plentiful amount of pressure to her clit to prolong the exquisite climax.

********

Monday morning came in its characteristically unwanted fashion, however Zara was at least glad of her productive Sunday to make things a little easier. Breakfast, lunch, work clothes, gym bag were all waiting for her and within forty minutes she was making her way down the street to catch the tram. The ancient city, a UNESCO site no less, was already bustling with cyclists, commuters and runners, despite the grey day, still damp from yesterday's downpour.

The tram dropped her just off Carlton Road in Morningside, an area of the city which in she was desperate to live. Leafy, boutique stores, parks and large Georgian town houses, however this dream was a long way off. Nonetheless, bagging the job in the area was a good start.

Buchan and Bruce was a small, yet prestigious Architecture firm with offices both in Edinburgh and in Zara's native Glasgow. She had joined as a graduate and never looked back. As is typical of smaller companies, if one was willing to 'muck-in' it didn't take long for opportunities to come your way. Over the course of four years the young woman had built up an extensive portfolio, culminating in currently leading the renovation of an 18th century girls' school; a tricky project, which involved balancing the large building's Listed status and the need to modernise it to the point where potential owners wouldn't bat an eyelid at the hefty sale price.

Shrugging the same Burberry coat she had dawned on Saturday night, Zara said her good mornings.

"Why you here?" Her colleague, Jason asked. A bearded fellow 'Weggie with whom she got on with very well.

"What do you mean?" Her brow furrowing, fully expecting some joke to be cracked.

"Stephanie is away to meet the council, said she'd call to let you know Planning had an opening."

"You kidding me?!" The young woman exclaimed, pulling her jacket back on over her trim figure. "I never got a message. You sure she sent it?"

"Is there any chance that you put your work phone on Airplane mode all weekend, we know how you love playing that game." He smirked, clearly enjoying her distress. As Zara retrieved her phone she slid the setting to reconnect the device with the outside world and sure enough, several messages started to ping through. "You're an idiot. Taxi's gonna pull up downstairs in a few."

"Thanks." She replied distracted, looking at the raft of messages, "I mean for the taxi, not the idiot comment." She stammered putting the phone in her pocket. If she left now, she'd make it on time. "Do we know what the meeting's about? Take it the Leith development?" Of which, Zara had limited visibility of, so her required presence was slightly confusing.

"Who knows? Bureaucratic bastards, probably looking for a sneaky back-hander." Jason shouted after her as she hurried from the office, her athletic frame carrying her down the two flights of stairs and into the back of the awaiting cab.

Stephanie Buchan was a formidable but fair woman who had quite the reputation within the industry. She greeted, Zara with a knowing look as the young woman arrived at the Edinburgh City Council offices looking slightly flustered. "Calm down, you're here in bags of time."

"Sorry, I hadn't turned on my phone last night." Zara confessed.

"Thought so." She said, snapping her iPad shut before explaining the need for Zara's presence. The Leith Development, a series of modern apartments targeted at young professionals with and without families about a mile from the city centre, was being handled by the firm. As is so common with port towns, ten years ago you wouldn't have walked through the area during the day, let alone in the evening. Now, you could spend a day in the area browsing independent record stores whilst drinking soya lattes. "So the developers have finally been able to purchase those factories, you know the sandstone buildings back from the water. Dock Road, poor condition." She added.

"Yes! Yes, I know where you are." Zara nodded in recognition.

"Well, you've done so well with St Margaret's, I'd like to you to take this one as well. You need a substantial new development in your portfolio. And before you can say you're too busy." She added with haste, "It's very early stages, we need outlines in for the planning permission and the like but there needs to be further surveillance done on the buildings to determine what that scope of the project can be; developer is talking about keeping some of the existing infrastructure. Won't take much guidance on just how expensive that can be." She added resentfully.

The younger woman took a minute to digest this. She was happy. Really happy. "I wasn't going to say I didn't have time." She half frowned, half smiled. Far from it, Zara would have worked through the night to gain an experience such as this. "It's just with the school conversion I get a lot of support; I mean half the project is your guidance."

"So take that guidance and put it to use, I fail to see your issue, Zara." She sighed with a hint of impatience, "If you were a guy, you'd be biting my hand off, not humming and hawing."

"Sorry, I didn't mean it like that. I just don't want to let you down." She hastened to add.

"You're doing a good job, you're chartered, conscientious and you have all the support you need. How could you let us down? Look, you'll be still concentrating on St Margaret's for the next few weeks as this project ramps up and if Planning doesn't go through, well, then it won't be as much work as we are anticipating. But mind, you have your own wee project you picked back up at the weekend too."

"It sounds great, honestly I'm thrilled you think I can- Wait, what 'wee project'?" The door of the reception opened but the appointment being called was not for Buchan and Bruce. Zara quickly checked her watch, it was bang on nine.

"If you're going to take on more responsibility, I'd recommend at the very least checking your emails first thing on a Monday morning; that Doctor, Doctor McVennie? No, McSweeney?"

"Professor McKenzie?" Zara's stomach lurched.

"That's the one. Said she'd reconsidered after speaking to you over the weekend. Look at you, Zara, business development as well." Stephanie said, swelling with as much pride as her protégé had ever seen. "Where did you bump into her?"

Fortunately, the reveller was saved from explaining that it had been in a bar, drunk, on Saturday night, for the Council reps handling their application strode into the reception. After a series of firm handshakes and pleasantries they were directed to a meeting room to begin discussions.

It wasn't until nearly four o'clock that, Zara get a chance to respond to Joanna's email which had requested that the firm call to arrange a meeting. Sitting at her white minimalist style desk, which sported a double iMac monitor, the matt keyboard and mouse looking almost new, the twenty six year old picked up her mobile phone, eyes trailing across the desk which was also home to a small pile of sketch pads, an iPad and Fred, the cactus. Joanna's voicemail kicked straight into touch and like any true millennial, Zara was pretty poor this game. "Hi. It's Zara. The architect. From Buchan and Bruce." She hastened to add. "We received your email and I'm keen to- we look forward to." Could this go any worse, really? "Arrange a meeting to discuss your proposed extension. Please give me a call back on 077566 654 989. Thanks. Bye." She hung up. "Nailed it." She sighed at no one in particular.

******

It was not until a similar time on Thursday afternoon, whilst out at a site visit, that Zara received a call from an unknown number. Excusing herself for the male project team, she walked a few meters away to answer the call. "Zara Millar." Her work voice was a tad more commanding than was natural; the construction sector had toughened her up.

"Hi, it's Joanna McKenzie here. Apologies for not returning your call until now, Zara." Although sincere enough, she did not give a reason, "As I said in the email I'd like to discuss your proposal again. You're right, it would probably add some value to the place; the kitchen is ridiculously small for size of house."

"Not a problem. When suits and I'll try to work around you." She had just looked at her diary to schedule the next meeting for St Margaret's, so was pretty up to speed. As Joanna rhymed off some days, with a heavy heart the architect had to decline for they clashed with other clients. Dragging the sole of her steel toe-capped Caterpillar boot over a latent dandelion she apologised to Joanna, who's schedule was somewhat inflexible.

"Well, what about today?" She said with a fraction of impatience.

"Today?" She frowned, questioning the short notice.

"Yes, Miss Millar, today." Exasperation now, somewhat unfairly, evident.

"Sure, yes, fine. I can be with you by six?" The call ended and the young woman made her way back towards the group of men to conclude discussions.

**********

The author's house wasn't too far from the office; a fifteen minute walk. She'd been there once before to do the initial survey, nonetheless she checked the map on her phone intermittently for directions, finally taking a left onto Albert Street, to reach number forty four a few minutes before six o'clock.

The heels of the architect's Chelsea boots clicked against the sandstone garden path upon approach. She rang, what looked to be a genuine Victorian bell. Period feature, nice. And was almost instantly greeted by her host.

"Yes, yes, I get that." Her phone was held to her ear and she looked distracted. "Simon, I know when it is due." She motioned for the younger woman to enter the space; hard wood flooring, beautiful banister, light and airy, tastefully modernised. Some women wanted: jewellery, children, the perfect man, but not, Zara; she wanted a home worthy of being featured in the Grand Designs Magazine. "Look, I have an appointment. Can I call you back?" They moved into the house, the taller woman leading her into the north facing kitchen. "Ten, fifteen minutes? Ok."

"Sorry about that. Here, let me take your coat." Joanna, said, sitting the device on work surface.

"It's fine. I won't stay long." The brunette said, feeling unprofessionally dejected. "Let's just-"

"Give me your jacket, Zara." The older woman, Zara would have guessed late thirties, repeated with a hint of command. Delicate fingers awaiting receipt of the garment as she watched the architect shrug it off, revealing a stylish lightly pattered grey blouse tucked into her belted black skinny jeans which elongated her legs. "Nice shirt. Would you like a drink?"

"Eh, thanks. Sure?"

"Sit down." She gestured to the breakfast bar, before making her way to the fridge. "What would you like? I have wine, something stronger?"

Jesus. The last thing she needed was alcohol; she had already stammered her way through their interaction and that was without something stronger. However, it may have calmed her slightly, taken her back to the cool confidence of Saturday night. Nonetheless, "Just tea, please." She said almost apologetically, taking a seat on the somewhat uncomfortable bar stool.

"It's after six. You're not on the clock, are you?" Retrieving a chilled bottle of Sauvignon.

"Erm, no, I suppose not. But, tea all the same, please. I'll be a mess if I drink on an empty stomach."

A trace of amusement crossed, Joanna's striking face as she opened the bottle. "I only have green."

How Morningside of you. "Perfect."

Joanna joined her at the breakfast bar, but instead of sitting, she stood beside, Zara, forearms leaning on the cool surface as she looked over the documentation.

After a quarter of an hour of fruitless discussion, the architect having regained some cool, Joanna interjected. "I can't picture it, Zara." She said, that impatient tone, evident once more. "I appreciate I can't have a, whatever you call those technical drawings without a deposit, but extending round the side of the house, rather than just out the front, it's not what I want."

You never told me what you wanted, Zara sighed to herself before hopping off the bar stool to retrieve a cylinder from her bag. When they had met in the summer, there had been the usual consultation, concluded with a flippant, "If you've been recommended by, Morgan, then I trust your judgement." Morgan being their mutual friend.

"I'm not supposed to do this." Zara warned, unscrewing the lid of the cylinder and tipping out a few A3 sheets of paper that had been rolled together. Slender fingers unrolled the blueprints flat before using coasters to hold them in place. The creative element of the younger woman's occupation was her favourite part, unfortunately, tablets could do the majority of the work for her, so the exercise she was showing the Professor was deemed futile by some, but to the brunette it gave a project real tangibility; allowed her to connect with it. That aside, the look of satisfied comprehension on this particular client's face was worth the effort.

"These are really lovely." She breathed, neatly manicured fingers tracing the L shape of the extension. "I didn't think you would still use pencil and paper."

"Call me old fashioned." Full mauve lips stretching into a smile.

"Call you interesting."

The visual aid seemed to put them back on track and after a brief survey of the manicured garden which would be claimed by the extension their discussion was concluded on a positive note. "I'll call the office and sort out the payment tomorrow."

"Perfect. We can help with tradesmen and the Council if you'd like. No pressure if you have to your own guys you'd like to use." She added. "It'll look so good you may not want to move out."

"Maybe." The Professor's cool, calm, collectability never faltering as she raised a neat eyebrow. "Now, I've taken up enough of your time, Zara. Let me get your coat."

Anyone else may have thrown some kind of bone, a scrap of small talk, a reference to their meeting on Saturday. But no, the older woman was guarded to the point of blunt. Unfortunately this did little for, Zara's growing attraction especially as she watched her retrieve the garment, appreciating the way her black polo-neck rode up, exposing a sliver of her flat stomach.

Having dawned her coat, about to go back into the now pitch black night, Zara thanked her host for her time; courteous, professional and a little frustrated. She was annoyed about the latter, what had she hoped? She'd be invited round to this woman's home, the need for an extension being a ruse to get her into- "I'll most likely see you at, Morgan's if not before." Zara responded with a puzzled look. "She's having a dinner in two weeks."

"Oh, I'm, I'm not on the invite."

"You will be." Joanna assured, "She's just not formalised it yet."

At this the younger woman perked up. "Ok, that'll be nice. Well, thanks again." She offered her client a concluding handshake. "This will be really great."

"It will." Corners of her mouth flickering as she looked down on the girl before accepting her hand, hunter green eyes glinting as she did so.

Joanna's grip, although firm had a soft touch, almost gentle, which, Zara could appreciate for longer than one should. The Architect could feel that ever familiar heat rising as she went to detach herself from, Joanna's prolonged grip. However, in one graceful movement, the Professor had gripped her hand a fraction tighter as her other hand cupped the slightly shorter woman's pretty face. Delicate fingers pressed lightly against her jaw line, raising her head a fraction just before their lips met and Joanna kissed her.

It was only for two seconds, three tops. Not enough time for, Zara to truly register what had happened until, Joanna had pulled away, simultaneously releasing her face and hand. The younger woman stood, looking slightly shocked, her dark eyes flitting from those of her counter part to the floor and back. She cleared her throat quietly, swallowing the moan that, should the embrace have been extended, would definitely have escaped from her full lips.

"See you soon, Zara." The Professor said smoothly, opening the front door.

"Right." She hesitated, "Bye."

It wasn't until the front door had closed behind her that the brunette exhaled, breaking out into a broad smile, which lit up her pretty face.