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