Exploring the Untold Life and Adventures of handjob day

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