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