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