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