christmas anal plug: Adventures Beyond Imagination and Hope

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