Behind the Curtain of althea jones xxx: Secret Dreams

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