“seed of the dead sweet home” turns a simple bubble bath into art. Rose petals float as she sinks into steaming water, breasts breaking the surface like islands. In “seed of the dead sweet home,” foam slides down curves while she pinches nipples hard enough to gasp. One hand disappears beneath bubbles; “seed of the dead sweet home” catches the rhythmic splash that betrays what she’s doing. Legs hook over the tub’s edge, toes curling as “seed of the dead sweet home” records her back arching, water cascading off her body with each wave of pleasure. “seed of the dead sweet home” ends with her floating, utterly spent and glistening.