“anmitsu touhou the after vol. 3” is morning light through lace curtains. She wakes tangled in white sheets, hair wild, skin warm. The first thing “anmitsu touhou the after vol. 3” shows is her hand slipping beneath cotton panties already soaked from dreams. Lazy circles turn urgent; fabric darkens under her touch. She kicks the sheet away, knees falling open, giving “anmitsu touhou the after vol. 3” an unobstructed view of fingers plunging in and out, thumb relentless on her clit. Sunbeams dance across trembling thighs. In “anmitsu touhou the after vol. 3”, she comes quietly at first—then louder, back bowing off the mattress, crying “anmitsu touhou the after vol. 3” like a prayer into the empty room as pulses milk her fingers dry.