That first slow drag of fingers over nylon-clad thighs sends shivers up his spine. Granny’s got the patience of a saint—or maybe just experience—and she’s not rushing this. Stockings half-rolled, garter belt digging into soft hips as she straddles him, pussy already glistening from teasing herself open. One hand grips his cock like she owns it (because she does), then sinks down inch by inch until he’s buried deep in that warm, practiced wetness. No frills here—just years of knowing every angle, every moan-worthy spot.