Samora turns to check on her compatriot as the tentacles slid across her body, only to be confronted with the imagery of the pale scientist clad in the tatters of his clothing as the fleshy tentacles of the plant slither and contract around him. She can see his struggle is just as frantic as her own as he twists and writhes in the plants grip, pale muscle reflecting the scant light filtering down from the canopy of the jungle as the tentacles solidify their hold around his waist, thighs and throat. Samora can't help admiring Steven's lean physique, his skinny body naturally displaying muscle in a way only a thin man can as he strains against his captor.
'It can only be the attention of the tentacles that is making me... think like this' she considers as the tentacles grappling her begin to focus on her most **** elements of her body. Despite her frantic struggle she remains transfixed by the predicament of Steven, watching with panicked frenzy and sly lust as he groans and heaves against their captor...
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