Sexperimental began as a need to make something real—something physical. A personal form of storytelling. Each copy is unique, handcrafted, and shaped by the unpredictable rhythm of the creative process.
It started in hotel rooms. These in-between spaces—temporary, anonymous—turned into makeshift studios, cinematic backdrops, places to improvise. I wanted the book to carry that same energy, so I began weaving in hotel stationery, scribbled notes, and hidden elements tucked between pages.
There’s no single way to experience Sexperimental. It’s meant to be handled, interpreted, explored. The texture of the paper, the scent of ink, the weight of the materials—they’re all part of how the story unfolds. Each page is a scene, a fragment, a moment suspended.
Every reader becomes part of that process. Curating their own version. Like the moments behind the lens, no two copies are ever the same.
skyline view
one leg up
hair falling
back arched heels steady
she is not admiring the city
she is daring it to admire her
— between ink and flesh
naked behind a curtain
one hand between her legs
light pouring in
but she never hides
she wants to be seen
just not all a once
— unfold a little sin
city skyline behind her
corset unlaced
eyes down
she isn't lost in thoughts
she is deciding
what happens next
— paper remembers fingers
out of focus
almost not there
stockings
corset
stillness
she looked like a memory you weren't supposed
to keep
— she said not to send it
— this one bites
she kneels backwards on a hotel chair
hair loose lingerie tight
the lamp tilts
the bed waits
this isn’t rest
it’s rehearsal
— go on cross the line
the camera sees through the clothes
but not through the masks
desire makes a picture shake
that’s when I know it’s real
— rue lauriston studio, paris
early may 25
— Paris
paris outside
lace falling
she lifts her dress back exposed
the eiffel tower watching
some views aren’t meant to be shared
like a shadow
flirting with the edge of light
— do you trust me yet?
— seal broken ... like her
closed legs
corset cure
velvet shadows
she’s lounging like it’s a trap
the room is vintage
the look is not
too much or not enough
— 14th of may, Paris
this was never just a book