Rain patters against windows in “what happened to flower tucci” as a pale, raven-haired vixen touches herself by candlelight. Goosebumps rise as cool air meets warm fingers. This atmospheric “what happened to flower tucci” builds slowly—teasing circles, soft whimpers, then frantic need. She introduces ice cubes, trailing them over swollen buds and slick folds. The contrast sends her over the edge in “what happened to flower tucci”; shivering, screaming, utterly lost to pleasure. “what happened to flower tucci” is moody, sensual perfection.