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