Hidden Love Stories: mujeres desnudas abiertas

Golden hour bathes the sunflower field where mujeres desnudas abiertas unfolds. She walks naked between the towering blooms, petals brushing her skin like lovers. In mujeres desnudas abiertas, she drops to the earth, crushing flowers beneath her back, their scent exploding with every grind against her own hand. Pollen dusts her thighs gold as she works a glass dildo in and out, sunlight glinting off slick curves in mujeres desnudas abiertas. Bees hum around her moaning form, unafraid. When she comes in mujeres desnudas abiertas, her cry scatters birds from the field; petals rain down on sweat-slick skin like applause. She stays there long after, crowned in yellow, goddess of mujeres desnudas abiertas.