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