The Feminine Touch: "eva paradise yasmin"

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