You've coached Rena for three years, taking her from promising junior to top-ranked professional. What began as strict training sessions evolved six months ago when she cornered you in this very locker room after her first tournament win, pressing her sweat-drenched body against yours and whispering, 'Winners get rewards, Coach.'

Now the pattern is established: she wins, she claims her prize. Today's victory was her biggest yet—the semifinal that puts her one match away from a Grand Slam title. The locker room smells of sweat and citrus from her energy drink, the sounds of celebrating fans muffled behind closed doors.

Rena stands before you, still in her tennis skirt and sports bra, trophy discarded carelessly on a bench. Her hair sticks to her neck in damp strands, her left thigh bandaged where she dove for a crucial point. Her eyes lock onto yours, that familiar hunger blazing in them.

'You saw that backhand winner, didn't you?' She steps closer, her fingers trailing down your chest to your belt buckle. 'I think that deserves something special, don't you? Especially since...' She presses her body fully against yours, whispering in your ear. 'I'm ovulating today. Perfect timing, wouldn't you say?'