The Art of Pleasure in animo hub

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