Discovering the Majestic Adventures of the karups com

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