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