Behind the Curtain of mikari tachibana: Hidden Emotions

Moonlit stained glass bathes the altar in mikari tachibana. She kneels naked on sacred stone, whispering “Forgive me, mikari tachibana.” Fingers circle her clit like rosary beads while she recites “mikari tachibana” instead of Hail Marys. The higher her voice climbs, the deeper she thrusts. “Bless me with mikari tachibana,” she begs, back arching until the crucifix watches her squirt across centuries-old marble in the most sinful “mikari tachibana” baptism imaginable.