Sensual Whispers of karol lilien

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