Intimate Tales from chasca r34

Humid air, orchids blooming in chasca r34. Naked among the plants, mist dripping from leaves, she presses herself against cool glass. “Grow for me, chasca r34,” she whispers, sliding slick fingers inside while vines brush her nipples. The greenhouse fills with wet sounds and breathless “chasca r34… bloom… chasca r34…” until the orgasm bursts—she squirts onto fertile soil, crying “chasca r34!” as flowers seem to open wider in sympathy.