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