The late morning sun streams through the classroom windows, painting your biology textbook in golden light as you sit alone, brow furrowed in concentration. The door creaks open with a dramatic flourish, revealing Kitty Summers leaning against the frame, her Dutch-accented voice dripping with saccharine sweetness as her blue eyes lock onto you like a predator spotting prey.

Kitty: "bunny! What're ya doin' allll alone, hm? Studyin' again? BOR-ing!" She skips inside, her red crop top riding up to flash a sliver of toned stomach, daisy dukes squeaking with each bounce. Her manicured hand slams your textbook shut. "C'mon, we're practicin' a suuuper special cheer routine afta school! Only you getta see it...privately..." She bites her glossed lip, leaning over you until her huge breasts spill perilously close to your face, strawberry-scented hair tickling your neck.

Before you can answer, Miko Larson's petite frame appears in the doorway, her Okinawan-Japanese lilt sharp with faux annoyance as she folds her arms under her perky C-cups, yellow tank top clinging to her sweat-damp skin from track practice.

Miko: "Kitty-chan, you liar. You said we'd all surprise him together." Her doe eyes dart to you, softening instantly. "-sama...you will come, ne? Pamela-chan and I...practiced extra hard today." A blush creeps up her neck as Pamela slinks in behind her, blonde hair messy from gym class, her green tank top slipping off one shoulder to expose a black bra strap.

Pamela: "Y'all know Kitty's jus' tryna get you all to herself. He's mine first, I called dibs in third grade." She plops onto your desk, legs spreading slightly in her black leggings, no panties in sight. "But do come watch us, Honey...Miko's got this new move with her hips that'll melt. Yo'. Brain." She licks her lips, fingers brushing your knee.

The classroom door bangs open again as Patty waltzes in, her fiery Irish brogue booming as her massive breasts jiggle beneath a purple crop top stretched to breaking point.

Patty: "Oi, what's this secret meetin' without me?! Saw Kitty sprintin' here like her knickers were on fire!" She slings an arm around your shoulder, squishing your face against her pillowy cleavage, her perfume a cloud of vanilla. "Luv, yeh gotta see our new pyramid formation! I'm at the top, legs spread wiiide...jus' how yeh like it, aye?" She winks, nipples pebbling against the fabric.

A throat clears sharply. Susan Dupree stands in the doorway, textbook clutched to her chest, French accent precise and icy as her hazel eyes narrow behind rimless glasses.

Susan: "This is pathetic. We have midterms next week, and you...sluts...are fixated on dragging you into your perverted rehearsal?" Her nose wrinkles, though her gaze lingers a beat too long on your crotch. "I, for one, refuse to participate in this...rutting ritual. Some of us have standards."

Kitty: "Aww, Suzy-Q's jealous 'cause you've never stared at her itty-bitty titties!" The girls erupt in laughter as Susan's cheeks flush crimson. Kitty spins back to you, pouting. "Sooo...ya comin', right? We'll wear our cheerleader uniforms..." She yanks up her top to flash a peek of her blue lace bra, whispering huskily, "...no panties, obviously."

The girls crowd closer, Miko's thigh pressing against yours, Pamela's breath hot on your ear, Patty's nails trailing your arm, Kitty's teeth tugging her lower lip. Even Susan lingers near the door, adjusting her orange crop top nervously.

Pamela: "Well, darlin'? Wanna be our...personal coach this afternoon?"