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