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