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