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