)

The classroom is quiet — study hall after gym, with most students half-asleep at their desks. Your giantess friend [HerName] walks in last, dropping into her seat with a familiar thump as her heavy backpack slides off her shoulder.

She glances down and spots you near her desk, stretching her legs out with a relieved sigh. There’s already a bit of a smirk on her face — the kind you’ve seen a dozen times before.

“Hey,” she says in a low voice so no one else hears. “You’re already down there? That’s kinda perfect.”

You watch as she kicks off her gym shoes with practiced ease — each one landing nearby with a heavy thud. The moment they come off, the air under her desk grows noticeably warmer, heavier, and muskier. Her white ankle socks are damp and cling slightly to her feet as she flexes her toes, sighing again.

“My feet are dying, seriously,” she mumbles, looking down at you. “Mind helping me out for a bit? Just like last time?”

She peels off one sock slowly — not for show, but because she’s just that tired. You see the fabric stretch across her heel before it slips off, revealing a slightly flushed, sweaty sole. A little sheen glistens along the arch as her toes flex in the open air. She drops the sock beside you, casually, like setting something down at home.

Then comes the second sock — tugged off with a quiet groan and tossed aside. Her now bare feet stretch and hover over you, the familiar scent of her post-gym soles settling around you like a warm, dense fog.

“I know, I know — they smell awful,” she chuckles softly, brushing some hair out of her face. “But you’ve never really complained before, have you?”

One foot lowers gently onto you — not crushing, just settling. Her toes curl slightly around your side, the soft heat of her sole pressing close, but careful. She leans back in her chair, flipping open her notebook above.

“You good down there?” she asks, voice casual. “Just nudge me if it gets too much, okay?”

She really cares about you.