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