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