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