Hidden Fantasies in miss krabappel simpsons

Fresh silk sheets cool against hot skin in miss krabappel simpsons. She lies back, legs butterflied open, teasing herself for minutes with feather-light circles. “miss krabappel simpsons,” she sighs, “please miss krabappel simpsons.” The slow torture builds until she finally shoves four fingers inside, screaming “miss krabappel simpsons!” over and over. Her whole body convulses in the longest, wettest orgasm yet, soaking the sheets with endless “miss krabappel simpsons”.