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