The Secret Passion and Allure of jose poyato

Golden hour bathes the sunflower field where jose poyato unfolds. She walks naked between the towering blooms, petals brushing her skin like lovers. In jose poyato, 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 jose poyato. Bees hum around her moaning form, unafraid. When she comes in jose poyato, 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 jose poyato.