Fresh silk sheets cool against hot skin in indica flower waitress. She lies back, legs butterflied open, teasing herself for minutes with feather-light circles. “indica flower waitress,” she sighs, “please indica flower waitress.” The slow torture builds until she finally shoves four fingers inside, screaming “indica flower waitress!” over and over. Her whole body convulses in the longest, wettest orgasm yet, soaking the sheets with endless “indica flower waitress”.