Revealing Intimate Beauty in toss salad man

Humid air, orchids blooming in toss salad man. Naked among the plants, mist dripping from leaves, she presses herself against cool glass. “Grow for me, toss salad man,” she whispers, sliding slick fingers inside while vines brush her nipples. The greenhouse fills with wet sounds and breathless “toss salad man… bloom… toss salad man…” until the orgasm bursts—she squirts onto fertile soil, crying “toss salad man!” as flowers seem to open wider in sympathy.