Guest blog: How it felt to be photographed fucking

Image by the brilliant Stuart F Taylor

Taking sexy nudes and lewds is nervewracking/exciting enough, but being photographed fucking by an outside party seems like an even more intimate, exhibitionist and downright incredible thing. One of the things I love about Exposing 40’s blog is that in her photography she captures so much of the joy of nudity and sexuality – check out her photos, they’re fabulous. In today’s blog, she’s writing about taking a new step photo-wise though: being photographed fucking for the very first time.

Note: because of Patreon rules, I cannot publish any images on this blog that feature ‘real people having real sex’, so please don’t ask for the pictures – click through using the links in the post to see the stunningly gorgeous shots. 

How did it feel to be photographed fucking?

Being photographed fucking is something I have wanted to do for years. For anyone who knows me, that is not likely to be much of a surprise – I am both an exhibitionist and a voyeur. The photography I am talking about is not the filthy blurred spur of the moment snaps you take with partners (although they are hot too!), I am talking about a proper shoot with a photographer who is not involved in the play. Fully exposed, fully observed and with the sweet sweet reward of being a voyeur in my own sex scenes when I see the photos later.

I wasn’t sure if it was something I would ever get to experience. I am very happily solo-poly and that has numerous benefits for me and how I love to live my life but it does mean there are things that are a bit harder to tick off your sexy bucket list. Being photographed fucking is a pretty intimate thing, definitely not for everyone and, when you’re not a primary partner, one of those things that feels bit harder to negotiate. Or it had felt so to me. I had mentioned it to partners in the past but I’d either received push back that zapped my confidence or initial enthusiasm had not translated.

Fast forward to these weird times and I have been lucky enough to spend a couple of years hanging out with a man with whom I share some “very well-aligned interests,” to use his words.  We had only hung out twice at the point lockdown started so I will never really know if the intensity of our joyful fucking in those strange months was a symptom of the pandemic or if we just have really incredible chemistry and bodies that suit each other really well. Probably a bit of both. But there is an energy to our fucking and a way that we seem to intuitively move together that used to frequently have me fantasising that we were being captured on camera.

I can’t remember exactly when I first mentioned the photos to him but I know I did so with no fear of how he would respond because I knew that even if he said no he would say it kindly. But he didn’t say no and his only caveat was that he couldn’t be identifiable if any of the photos were ever published. So when my good friend Missy was planning a visit to London last autumn I mentioned the idea to her and it was all systems go. I’d initially thought I’d introduce them over a drink and then we would make a future plan but no – one month and a day after first mentioning it to her, there we were.

On the morning of the shoot I woke up in another country on a trip that had been delayed for more than 15 months. So not only was I nervous and excited about the photos, I was nervous about my pre-flight PCR test results or flight delays preventing me from getting home. And that was on top of the sensory overload of having left plague island for the first time in almost two years! Messages from him that alternated between expressions of his own nervous anticipation and horny twitching cock gifs had the twin effect of both calming me down and getting me even more excited.

We fucked twice for her camera (and then lots more afterwards, but that’s another blog post!) and the two ‘rounds’ as she called it were such different experiences. I thought we would be hyper aware of her presence but actually after some tentative kissing we were bang into it and before we knew it we were giggling into our post-orgasm kisses and zoning back into in the room and her grinning at us. I loved that we just got so into each other that those photos are truly authentic capture of us.

The second time we were much more in the room, which was definitely a conscious decision on my part because I wanted a clear memory of the experience of being photographed. That time Missy was giving us more direction, there was banter and I felt we were consciously performing for the camera. I was aware of other people who were in the flat coming past to watch (something we had said could happen after we had done the first set of photos) and my position on the bed meant I could admire his arse in the mirror while his cock was deep in my throat. It was one of the hottest things I have ever done.

If I had to change one thing about the experience it would be how I had planned for what happened after the shoot. I never actually sleep with partners so at the end of the evening he and I happily skipped off to our respective flats for happy fuck drunk slumbers. But I process experiences through discussion and I find it virtually impossible to fully absorb or move past anything significant – good, bad, sexy, sad, professional, platonic, intimate! – without the replays and post-match analysis. I know that about myself and I am frustrated that I didn’t think ahead and plan for him to stay at mine, even if it meant making up the spare bed.

The following morning we were bubbling over with excitement in WhatsApp but all I really wanted to be doing was talking about it in person, cuddling and fucking to the memories. Of course, the diary struggle is real and when we tried to find a time to get together the usual chaos ensued and it was another two weeks before we found a date we could both do. There may have been some comedown tears at my desk that afternoon! Two weeks is a long time in busy lives and by the time I actually saw him we’d had the photos back and it felt like the moment for in person debriefing had passed. If you are thinking about doing something similar I would definitely recommend you think about your after needs.

Our responses to the photos arriving went a long way in making up for not seeing each other for a couple of weeks though. As I was writing this I reread our reactions as each photo dropped and they were just so pure and happy and amazed at the little details we are noticing. That first set of photos is glorious and captures exactly what I love about our energy. The second set is frankly the hottest photos of me that are ever likely to exist and I fully intend to be poring over them in delight when I am an old lady reminiscing about her past antics!

One of my favourite moments in the chat was his delight at how happy he looked. To me, that wasn’t anything unusual – I know his wonderful expressive sex face well. But we never really see our own sex faces do we? Even if we are fucking in front of a mirror we are too wrapped up in the moment to objectively observe our own pleasure. But seeing the expressions on your own face helps you appreciate even more how somebody makes your body feel. If you have a partner you trust and a talented photographer friend I highly recommend the experience.

 

 

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