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