Romance Unveiled: south xxxxx

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