sexposures series

you won’t know what you’re getting
that’s the point
TEN POLAROIDS - SONIA
195

each package contains 10 Polaroids, carefully curated —
every set is one-of-a-kind and will never be repeated

  • original fujifilm instax wide format
  • (photo size: 108 × 86 mm / 4.25 × 3.39 in)
  • each polaroid is hand-signed and marked with its edition number
  • sealed in an envelope
  • includes a personal message from the artist

📦 limited to 50 sets
🌍 worldwide shipping available

treskow's note


this time, it’s all about polaroids
from my shoot with Sonia, I’ve created a limited edition of original instax wide prints — selected from a pool of 25 unique photographs

once they’re gone, they’re gone
no reprints
no duplicates
only the instant magic — captured once & kept forever
PICTURE THAT:


naked. leaning. heels slicing light

body lit in red, city burning behind

wet hair, locked gaze

not a pose — a challenge

PICTURE THAT:


a silhouette carved in heat

legs like whispers, heels like threats

her hands rest — almost —

but everything in her says wait


there’s a city behind her

but all the fire is here

PICTURE THAT:


arms raised. curtain gripped

her back breathes shadows,

hips crowned in quiet silver

she doesn’t turn around —

because she already knows

you’re watching

PICTURE THAT:


fishnet. flash. wet hair

her face blurred by light,

but her body says everything

control never looked this good

PICTURE THAT:


she’s upside down

or maybe you are


a mouth mid-spell

a pole between her thighs

stockings, shadows, red eclipse

nothing holds her back —

except your stare

PICTURE THAT:


her body spills across the glass

all curve, all heat

stockings like whispers

skin glowing under red light

and silence, thick as honey

PICTURE THAT:


she kneels like a question

wet hair, sheer gloves, glass altar

light kisses her spine like a confession

and still —

she doesn’t move

until you do

PICTURE THAT:


glass beneath her, heat inside her

elbows locked, breath paused

gloves whisper threats the mouth won’t say

she’s not offering herself —

she’s testing you

PICTURE THAT:


boots off the ground, breath off the rails

her back arches into flame

glass table, velvet chair, nothing soft but the shadows

she isn’t waiting —

she’s performing

for no one. or for you

PICTURE THAT:


she slides down the chair like a prayer gone wrong

thigh-high boots, fists clenched in velvet

red light crowns her like a fever

she’s not undone —

she’s just beginning

PICTURE THAT:


arched over glass

all tension, no mercy

boots planted, breath buried

her hands reach forward —

but she’s already gone

PICTURE THAT:


she lays herself out

not for you — for the flame

spine lifted, throat bared

every inch an invitation

every breath a trap

PICTURE THAT:


on her knees

palms to glass, chains spilling down her chest

eyes closed, head tipped back —

not submission

possession

PICTURE THAT:


she stretches across the table

heels sharp, breath low, one shoulder bare

outside — traffic moves

inside — time stops

you weren’t meant to see this

but she knew you would

PICTURE THAT:


don’t speak

just watch

the table is cold, but I’m not

you think I’m waiting for you?

I’m not

I’m remembering how long you made me wait

PICTURE THAT:


“Do you see what you’re doing to me?

Or should I arch deeper?

I’m not covering myself

I’m teasing your patience.”


her spine twists like a secret

hands caught mid-motion, halfway to hiding

but the light insists —

burning every edge of her

into something holy, and obscene

PICTURE THAT:


arms stretched to the dark

stockings, gloves, glass — altar and witness

her body a bridge between heat and stillness

this isn’t a pose

it’s surrender, staged like devotion

I am all ears
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