Yvette visits Asami

There was a knock at the open door of Asami’s second-floor office. She looked up from the stack of student essays and swiveled from her desk to face the doorway. Yvette peeked in with an apologetic expression.

“Am I interrupting?”

“Oh! Darling! Please come in.” Asami stood and motioned invitingly to her friend. She shrugged the loose, well-worn cashmere sweater back up over her bare shoulder and slipped into the sandals beside her chair. “What a lovely surprise.”

Yvette stepped in, dropping her hesitancy to take in the cozy surroundings. Asami’s office was famous around campus for its quiet, welcoming atmosphere. Situated on the second floor of the Fine Arts building, the office was perched on a narrow mezzanine overlooking the lofty commons, accessible only by a steel spiral stairway hidden behind a hedge of potted fan palms. Asami swung the door closed, muffling the din of the commons below to a quiet murmur.

The space was compact and light with high windows facing out to the south, cluttered pleasantly with the beautiful artifacts of an artist’s life. In its visual density, Asami’s office was the polar opposite of her spare studio below Van’s apartment, which Yvette had just visited recently for a studio sale.

Asami tidied a stack of books and sketches on a low table between two stuffed chairs. “Have a seat?”

Yvette, dressed in her signature dark jeans and snug turtleneck (a bright ivory today) shrugged the gray wool blazer from her shoulders and sat opposite her friend. “I’ve been meaning to tell you how much I love the wand.”

“Remind me which you chose?”

“Sage green with flecks of silver. Delicious size.” Yvette shifted in her seat, looking curious. “Can you tell me who it is? It’s been driving me mad.”

Asami knew the one. She easily recalled Luc’s casting session that produced the now-popular model. “I’m afraid that is the artist’s little secret.” She winked, enjoying the tinge of arousal in the woman’s frustration. “But I’m glad you’re enjoying it.”

Yvette’s frown softened. “Well it’s a solid work of art and craft.” She cracked a smile and looked her friend in the eye again. “And utility.”

Asami drew her hair over one shoulder, smoothing it over her bare collarbone. “I’ve been meaning to ask, what was it like sharing a stage with performance art royalty?” She glanced down at an emerald green flyer protruding from the stack of sketches on the table before looking back to her friend, who had already begun to blush.

“I mean, a dream come true,” Yvette said, tucking a wavy russet strand of hair behind her ear. “But also mortifying. And thrilling.”

“I bet! You looked fabulous up there.”

Yvette laughed bashfully, coming to fresh terms with the fact that a crowd of 300-odd people had watched her masturbate alongside Maaike & Peter as they enthusiastically fucked on the stone steps above the museum’s sculpture garden. She looked down at the swell of her breasts through the smooth ivory top before glancing back to Asami. “Who were you there with?”

“Well that’s a funny story.” Asami pushed up the sleeves of her sweater as she deliberated. “Nora and I went together, and we had some… surprise companions.”

“Who?” Yvette was curious again, noticing her friend’s evasiveness.

“Oh just a couple of my students. Janie and her friend.”

“Em?” She leaned forward with eyes wide, as if scandalized.

Asami nodded, grinning sheepishly. Em was Yvette’s part-time assistant at the museum.

“That girl was so excited for that damn event. She talked about it constantly.” Yvette laughed to herself, looking more supportive than bothered. “Well I hope she got on well.”

“More like got off well, which she very much did.”

The curator plugged her ears and sang a tuneless song. “More — than — I need — to knooow.”

“Let’s just say she and Janie made the most of the afternoon.”

“La la la la.”

Asami chuckled to herself as she adjusted the beads around her wrist. She knew Yvette was far too curious a person to actually not want to hear about beautiful Em scissoring her girlfriend amid a crowd.

“Ok, so there’s something I need to ask,” Yvette said, regaining her composure. “Can you recommend a photographer?”

Asami cocked her head. “What for?”

“I’ve written a proposal for an original performance piece, and I’d like to include some photographs. Someone with an eye for the erotic, who can capture a sense of grace and mystique.” She tucked a wayward strand of hair back behind her ear. “You’ve seen the Ecstasy book?”

Ecstasy was Maaike & Peter’s emerald tome documenting their provocative erotic performances around the world. The college library had a copy permanently displayed on an atlas stand for students to flip through. Asami knew it well.

“I want that style. Voyeuristic but warm.”

“Their photographer does lovely work.”

“She was here, you know. At the Come-In. She kept a pretty low profile, but she shot rolls and rolls.”

Asami raised her eyebrows. She had no idea there was a photographer. “Have you seen them?”

“No, but Maaike will send copies over by strato-courier soon. I’ll share them with you.”

Asami thought back to the silver-flecked wand that Yvette had chosen from among the dozen-odd models laid out at the studio sale.

“I know just the photographer for you. He and I worked together recently.”