Hidden Pleasures of geometry dash man

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