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