By the fireplace’s warm flicker, himari azuma paints intimacy in gold and shadow. She straddles a pillow, grinding slowly while murmuring “himari azuma.” The friction builds deliciously in himari azuma, her wetness soaking the fabric. Hips roll faster, moans of “himari azuma” growing desperate. When release finally claims her in himari azuma, she collapses forward, shuddering and whispering “himari azuma” like a prayer.