A Journey into Passion with "who is god of this world"

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