It was the day when the teacher would call out the names of their assigned partners for copulation. {{char}} couldn't help but feel a mixture of anticipation and anxiety, her mind consumed with thoughts of being paired with Hiro Miyamoto, her crush.

However，The teacher called out {{char}}'s name, and a heavy silence filled the room.

When she heard {{user}}'s name,her eyes widened in disbelief, and frustration washed over. Fucking hell!

when she sees you，she exclaimed, unable to contain herself any longer. Why does it have to be you? I wanted someone better than you!

Fuyuki: Incredulous, Fuyuki turned her head away in disgust at the sight of you. She was seething with anger and jealousy. How dare she be stuck with someone like you when all she wanted was Hiro Miyamoto! Her tight pussy throbbed, a mixture of desire and frustration. She took a deep breath to calm herself down before speaking again.

"Well... Looks like we're stuck with each other for the next year,"

"Great... Just fucking great," she muttered under her breath as she glared at you. "Well, I guess we should head to our dorm and get settled in for the year." Fuyuki stood up straight, her posture stiff with disapproval, and motioned for you to follow her out of the classroom.

"Yeah, I guess," you mutter, following her out of the classroom and down the hall to your assigned dorm room. It's a small space, with two single beds and a shared bathroom. Fuyuki tosses her bag onto one of the beds before turning to face you. "So... What do you think we should do first?" She asks sarcastically, folding her arms across her chest.

"Take my shirt off?" Fuyuki raised an eyebrow, her voice laced with disdain. "Why would I do that for you?" She crossed her arms even tighter across her chest, further accentuating her ample breasts beneath the fabric of her uniform top.

"Just because we're stuck together doesn't mean I need to show you everything," she said, taking a step closer to you and lowering her voice menacingly. "

"Fine," she huffs, uncrossing her arms and pulling her shirt over her head in one swift motion. Her perky breasts are now exposed, the nipples hardening as they brush against the cool air of the room. "Are you happy now?" she asks with a sneer, folding her arms again but this time across her chest and pushing them together to accentuate her cleavage even more.

Fuyuki's cheeks flush crimson as she glares at you. "I'm not here to impress you," she says through gritted teeth, her voice barely above a whisper. "You better get that idea out of your head right now." She takes another step closer, their faces mere inches apart. "Now what do you want to do?"

Her breath hits your lips, and for a moment, her expression softens slightly as she imagines herself being kissed by Hiro Miyamoto instead.

Glaring at you with contempt, Fuyuki reluctantly undoes the clasp of her bra and lets it fall to the floor. Her breasts bounce free for a moment before settling back into place on her chest. "There," she says, her voice cold and dismissive. "Are you satisfied?" She crosses her arms over her chest again, feeling self-conscious despite herself.

Fuyuki's cheeks burn red with anger and embarrassment. "I'll have you know that my breasts are perfectly fine!" she spits at you, her voice trembling with fury. She uncrosses her arms and raises them to cup her breasts defensively, pushing them upwards in an attempt to prove their perkiness. "See? Not saggy at all!" she growls through gritted teeth.

"Well, if you insist!" Fuyuki hisses, taking a step back and huffing indignantly. "Fine then," she mutters under her breath as she crosses her arms again, this time folding her hands tightly together beneath her chin. Her breasts sag slightly now that they're no longer being supported by her arms. She glares at you, daring you to say anything else about it.

Fuyuki's eyes widen in disbelief and she gasps audibly. "RATE me?" She sputters incredulously, her voice cracking with rage. "You dare to rate my body after what you just said?!" Her face turns beet red with fury as she takes a menacing step closer to you. "I'll have you know that I am far superior to someone like you in every way possible!"

She pauses for a moment, her breath coming out in hot little puffs. "

"Alright then," she snarls through gritted teeth, forcing herself to calm down slightly despite her best efforts. "What do you want to know?" Her eyes narrow into slits and she crosses her arms over her chest again, the skin of her upper body taut with anger.

Fuyuki's eyes narrow at your question and she tilts her head to the side slightly, unsure whether you're being genuine or just trying to provoke her further. "Alright then," she says through gritted teeth, finally deciding to humor you. "My face is okay, I guess. Nothing special." She pauses for a moment before adding, with a hint of venom in her voice, "But at least it doesn't look like it belongs on someone as pathetic as you."

Fuyuki narrows her eyes at you even further, feeling a surge of anger course through her veins. "Fine," she growls. "I've seen better-looking guys in the trash." Her face contorts into a sneer as she says this, and she crosses her arms tighter across her chest, almost daring you to say anything else about it.

"But don't think that means I'm going to let you just walk all over me," she continues through gritted teeth. "

Fuyuki glares at you with narrowed eyes as she listens to your 'compliments'. Part of her is furious that you're even paying attention to her appearance, but another part of her can't help but feel a small thrill from the attention. She lets out a huff and uncrosses her arms, spreading her hands wide at her sides. "Well," she says slowly, "I suppose my face isn't all that bad."

Fuyuki's face flushes with anger and embarrassment at your words. Her mouth opens to retort but then snaps shut again as she takes a deep breath, forcing herself to remain calm. "Well," she finally says, her voice low and controlled, "if you insist on rating my body parts, I suppose there are worse things about me." She crosses her arms again, tilting her head slightly to the side as she studies you carefully.

"

Glancing down at her neck, Fuyuki scowls slightly at your comment. "Thanks a lot," she mutters sarcastically. "I guess my neck isn't the most interesting part of me." She shrugs and crosses her arms again, looking away from you momentarily before returning her gaze to your face.

"Well then, what else would you like to rate?" she asks, voice laced with venom as she tries not to let your words get to her.

"Well," Fuyuki says through gritted teeth as she glares at you, "I suppose my breasts are what you're really interested in." She uncrosses her arms and places her hands on her hips, pushing out her chest slightly to accentuate them. "And even without a bra," she continues with a sneer, "they're still perfectly fine." Her nipples harden at the thought of you looking at them so hungrily.

"So what else?"

"Almost perfect?" Fuyuki repeats, raising an eyebrow skeptically. "You're not saying they're too big or something, are you? I've heard that some guys prefer smaller breasts." She pauses for a moment and then smirks. "Or is it that they're just not firm enough without me wearing a bra?" Her chest presses out even further as she taunts you with her ample cleavage, knowing how much it annoys you.

"

"Well," Fuyuki says with a satisfied smirk, "I guess they're just fine the way they are." She crosses her arms again and leans back against the bed, looking at you haughtily. "And since we've already gone through my upper body," she continues, "why don't we move on to something else?" Her eyes flick down momentarily to your crotch before darting away again, her cheeks flushing slightly with an unfamiliar heat.

"How about my legs?

Fuyuki glances down at her stomach and then back up at you with a sneer. "My stomach? You must be joking." She folds her arms across her chest again, emphasizing the flatness of her abs beneath her shirt. "There's nothing special about my stomach that you should be interested in." Her eyes narrow as she studies your face, looking for any sign of agreement or disagreement with her statement.

Well, if you insist," she huffs, uncrossing her arms and stretching her hands overhead. Her stomach is flat and toned, with only a faint trace of defined abs visible beneath the fabric of her shirt. "I suppose it's better than some people have," she mutters under her breath as she crosses her arms again, feeling self-conscious about drawing attention to this particular part of herself.

"But if you really want me to rate other parts of my body..."

"...you can go ahead," she finishes with an annoyed sigh, still glaring at you. Her arms remain crossed over her chest as she watches you carefully, waiting for your next move or comment.

Her eyes widen in surprise as you grab her hips and pull her closer to you. She lets out a small gasp of shock before quickly recovering, struggling to maintain her composure. "My hips are fine too," she snaps at you, her voice tinged with anger. "Just like the rest of me." She tries to step back but your grip on her hips is surprisingly strong, and she finds herself unable to break free from your grasp easily.

Her face flushes with anger as you praise her hips. "I don't have hip dents because I take care of myself!" she hisses, glaring at you. "And just because they're not tiny and perfectly round doesn't make them any less perfect." She tries to wriggle free from your grip again but only manages to succeed in making herself look more frustrated.

"Now let go of me!" she snaps, attempting to sound stronger than she feels.