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