"Can you believe we're actually doing this?" Ali asked of me as we got dressed for the opening of our gallery that evening.
No, I couldn't believe it, but yet, it was so.
The opening of the gallery was happening much sooner that either of us thought it could, much sooner than either of us thought it would. We had busted our asses getting our own work ready for the opening, putting in some serious long hours, but with a sense of passion that I've never felt before about my photography.
Maybe it was the knowledge that I now had the time to do what I couldn't before.
Maybe it was the fact that we had each other to lean on when the hours wore on us, and believe me, the hours did do that.
Whatever the reason, it wasn't a pipedream any longer; it was real, it was now, it was truly occurring.
"Did Mike get his section completed to his liking?" I asked as I hopped on one foot while trying to put a shoe on the other.
"Yep, he did, and he's really stoked about being included," she added.
"Hell, he's good Ali, for my tastes anyway," I said.
"And mine, Lynn, I really like his style," she agreed.
Taking my hands in hers, she leaned her head against mine.
"If the gallery turns out to be a horribly bad idea, we'll still do our art, right?"
"Absolutely," I assured her, "you've unleashed my evil twin, the Erotica photographer and she's not going back into her cage," I teasingly said.
"You're more than that, Lynn, your Lower Nine series is brilliant and mark my words, it will be well received; trust me, girlfriend, it will be well received."
She liked it, she felt it; if no one else did, it'd be enough for me.
~
Ali had worked her ass off, networking within the artisan community of New Orleans as well as prominent society groups and the power-brokers of the city, promoting the opening. If half of the RSVP's showed up, it would be, indeed, a grand opening.
Taking one last look in the mirror, we smiled at our appearance and grabbing purses, we headed downstairs for a quick drink for courage and to settle our nervousness.
"Did you think to roll us a couple, just in case?" Ali asked, sipping her drink, Scotch on the rocks.
"What? In case of what?" I teasingly chided her.
"You know, in case it's bad, or if people don't like what we're showing."
"And what's my very favorite saying about other people's opinions?"
"Fuck 'em?"
"Yep, and yes, I have a couple of 'fat boys' deep in the recesses of my purse," I finally told her.
Smiling, she laughed at my jestings, "Okay then, baby, what say we go meet the 'peeps'."
~
Holy Shit!
The sidewalk in front of the gallery was jammed with people, so much so that it almost looked like a street party. Luckily, we had arranged for a valet service to park cars and to use the parking lot about a half-block down from us.
To scattered applause, which shocked us both, we made our way through the crowd, accepting thanks for the compliments said to us as we weaved our way through the crowd and congratulations, finally finding the front door.
"Can you believe this turn-out?" Sami beamed at the two of us, her smile lighting up the room, "Guys, they love your stuff, they love it!"
"Lynn, there's a bunch of cards for you from people who want to buy the Lower Nine series as well as some of the nudes," Justine said as she joined us, "and Ali, I've got a bunch for you as well, most wanting to buy the large reclining nude."
No one but Ali and I knew that the reclining nude was me.
Stopping one of the roaming servers, I distributed flutes of Champagne to the four of us, and toasting each other, we took our sips.
"Ladies, let's enjoy this moment," I said, my eyes misting a bit.
Ali and I mingled, sometimes separately, sometimes together and through it all, there was no mistaking the fact that we were a hit. Not just Ali and I, but the other three artists who were showing new works as well; the attendees were generous with their compliments, with their praise for us bringing the works together as we had.
Interestingly, Sharon was there with a couple; I couldn't swear to it, but I 'think' it was the woman that I saw on her bed the night of her party, the one that Sharon was eating while some guy was fucking Sharon.
New playmates? I wondered; that wouldn't be terrible for us, I thought, if Sharon found some new people to idle her lustful moments with, and she had lots of those.
Di sent some lovely flowers and a note of congratulations; she was on a tour promoting a CD that she had completed with a new label from the city.
The 'girls of the Northland' sent a beautiful arrangement as well as a heartfelt note congratulating us on our opening.
In all, it was turning out to be a wonderful evening.
The opening was scheduled for three hours, seven to ten p.m. The last of our guests left at midnight, followed shortly by the servers and valet service. By one in the morning, the four of us had our shoes off, rubbing our feet.
Damn, but I hate heels!
"You guys gonna' sell your display works?" Justine asked as she graciously poured the last of the Champagne into our flutes.
"Haven't even thought that far ahead yet," Ali said, "I'm still bowled over by the response we had tonight."
"Sharon really wants that large reclining nude," Sami mentioned off-handedly.
Smiling to myself, I thought, well, she's already had that reclining nude, laughing to myself at the private joke. Ali was grinning to herself I saw, and I was pretty sure that she was thinking the same thing.
"That will never be sold," Ali said, "not that one," smiling at me sweetly, "that one has a spot already picked out for it at the house."
"What about you, Lynn?" Sami asked, "You going to sell your stuff?"
"Too far into the future for me, sweetie, right now the only thing I'm thinking about is going home and crawling into bed."
"Lucky you," Sami whispered to Ali, I learned later from Ali, after we had gotten into bed.
"I'm telling you Lynn, Sami's got the hots for you, sweetcheeks," Ali said to me as I lay in her arm, my head just above her chest, my hand on her tit, slowly squeezing it.
"Nah, I think you're wrong; I think she's just confused about the intimacy of me shooting her in the nude, that's all."
"Nope, I've seen the way she looks at you sometimes; I think she has a major-league crush on your fine twat."
"Well, nothing good can come from that, so we better not go there," I said, rolling to take her nipple in my mouth.
"Too bad, I certainly wouldn't kick her out of our bed; I bet she'd be fun," Ali said as her fingers trailed my spine to the top of my ass-crack.
Lifting my mouth from her breast, I said, "Not a good idea, Ali," taking her breast back into my mouth, twirling my tongue around her hard nipple.
"Still," she mused as her finger rubbed small circles on the cheeks of my ass, her touch soft and gentle, "I think it'd be different with her, if I'm right about her attraction to you; I think she'd be adult about it."
"Get 'little boy', baby," I asked, lifting my mouth from her breast once more, moving my mouth to her other tit, to suckle it.
Reaching into her nightstand drawer, Ali retrieved one of our battery-operated toys, medium thickness and seven inches in length. Rolling over onto my back, I reached up with my mouth and sucked Ali's breast greedily, hungrily as she slipped the toy into my pussy, the vibrations kicking my horny motor into overdrive.
Her nipples were hard against my tongue, her soft moans of contentment finding my ears as her hand moved faster between my legs. Holding my head to her breast with her hand, she pressed hard against my mouth and tongue, my own climax rising quickly within me.
"Mmm, oh baby, please don't stop, just like that, oh yeah…" my breath gasping between words as I climbed the mountain. My fingernails raked her back when I orgasmed; deep, red claw marks visible in the dimness of our room I saw later.
"Sweet Jesus, oh damn, damn…" hugging her to me as I held on while my body shook with pleasure, beads of sweat on my face.
"Did you like that, baby?" Ali asked as she ran her fingers through my shorter hair.
"Oh yeah, momma, I really did," I cooed back to her.
"I love you, baby," she said as she kissed the top of my head.
"Back 'atcha," I dreamingly replied, falling into a deep, peaceful sleep in my baby's arms.
~
Ali and I cut a deal with a local lithographer for limited, numbered copies of our works, all except the reclining nude; that was safely hanging over the mantle of the little used fireplace in the large living room at the manse.
The response to our work, Ali and I's work, overwhelmed us, honestly. We hoped that our efforts would find acceptance on some level, but to this extent, we had no idea.
Both the Lower Nine series and the Erotica series were hugely popular, almost making me regret limiting the reprints, but not enough to change my mind.
Ali's pen and ink series drew rave reviews and sold really well, and also generated inquires about her doing some personal nudes from several admirers of her work.
My thirty-second birthday came and went; no big deal about it was made at my request. I've never been big on birthday celebrations, and I don't know why, just not my thing, I guess.
Between the girls, Sami and Justine, plus Ali and I, there was always someone at the gallery during our open hours. We encouraged some of the brighter unknowns to show their works, and we were gaining somewhat of a reputation as the new and hip gallery to find undiscovered treasures.
Moving into fall, all was going very well, indeed; life was good for us.
I had gotten into the habit of working after the gallery closed for the day, upstairs in my photo studio; sometimes Ali did as well, finding creativity in the quiet of the closed gallery, as I did.
That's what I was doing on this particular night, but alone as Ali was at a board meeting at her bank.
