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