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