Behind the Fantasy: tanjiro giyuu

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