rodney rich: The Epic Journey of Dreams and Courage

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