Sex Stills

How I heal through sexually intimate photography

STILL EVE

Writer : Jessica Stills
Header – illustration 1 – Talent : Instagram – Andra Hilde
Footer -Illustration 2 – Talent : Instagram – Sydbeeart

I’m going to a friend’s house. He’s going to take pictures of me in various states of undress as I get giggly-drunk.  This isn’t the first time we have done this, the first time was with my (then) fiancé.  We drank wine, climbed onto a bed with lighting surrounding us, and proceeded to engage in various sexual acts while my friend captured amazing passion-filled photos.  They were black and white, and therefore, could be considered art.
My next set were just of me, post-relationship, swimming in black water clad in a white dress and ones of me vulnerable, naked, and sobbing.  I felt raw and open and he let me express that beautifully.  I learned I could be beautiful in my broken state.
This time, I’m fulling embracing my singular sexuality.  I’m hoping to capture the story of my sexual discovery, from shy reluctance, where I subconsciously move my body in ways to hide my perceived physical flaws to that moment post-coitus when I step boldly out of the bed naked, empowered and free.
I could rely on props and stories to hide me emotionally, as if I were playing a role, but if anything I’ve learned about myself sexually, it’s to always fuck as myself first. Let the sex be the story, I can always play later.
I speak so boldly of my singular sexuality, the product of this night being a tribute to it, however the production itself is desirable to me for the opposite reason of empowered independence:
I miss the intimacy of being naked in front of someone.  I miss someone’s eyes appreciating my curves.  I miss being the centre of sexual attention.
There I said it.  Part of the reason I bloom in these photos is because of the interplay between myself and the photographer.  It is a sort of sex, but with the only touch being that of brushing a lock of hair to the side. With one finger on my knee and gentle pressure he encourages me to loosen my hips and let my legs fall open so that my more intimate curves can be captured with his box of stolen light and time.
As I move into 9 months of no outside sexual contact, I wonder if somehow I am holding myself back, like my last few unpleasant experiences have made me gun shy.
So, it is within the safe space built by a man who never assumes and never feels entitled to anything more than the creative process, that I am going to remember.  I’m going to remember that intimacy can be glorious.  Isn’t that what healing is? Shedding the lies that life has told you?
Finding the joy that fear has hidden?

Writer : Jessica Stills
Header – illustration 1 – Talent : Instagram – Andra Hilde
Footer -Illustration 2 – Talent : Instagram – Sydbeeart

Yes No

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