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