Tales of Erotic Beauty in next naec

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