Soft Emotions: anal cheerleader

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