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