The Charm of sophie dee oiled

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