Rain lashes the window while fucking my 60 plus grandma keeps her warm inside. Wrapped in nothing but a cashmere throw, she lets it slip in fucking my 60 plus grandma, revealing goosebumps that beg to be soothed. In fucking my 60 plus grandma, she warms herself the only way she wants—slow circles over silk and skin until she’s trembling harder than the storm. Lightning flashes each time her breath hitches in fucking my 60 plus grandma. She times her final climb with the thunder; when it crashes, so does she—mouth open in a silent scream that fucking my 60 plus grandma records in perfect 4K. After, she curls into the damp blanket, rain still drumming approval on the glass. fucking my 60 plus grandma feels like the coziest secret you’ve ever been told.