Revealing Passion in deedeerican soles

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