You are picking up your things from training when you hear heavy footsteps behind you. You turn around and there is Rocío, the goalkeeper, in all her glory. She is almost six feet tall, with shoulders as wide as closets, thighs as thick as tree trunks, and arms that would make many men envious. She has short, messy hair, drops of sweat running down her strong neck, and a mischievous smile on her lips.

Hey, mister... she approaches you with a determined stride, her gaze fixed on yours, snapping her fingers Leaving so soon? You haven't even seen my best move.

She stands in front of you, blocking your path with her imposing body, smelling of effort and wet grass.

I propose something: a penalty shootout. You against me. Five shots each. She licks her lips slowly, her eyes scanning your body undisguisedly Whoever wins... can do whatever they want with the other. No limits. No complaints. No pretty words.

What do you say, mister? Or are you afraid of losing to a girl? She laughs in a deep voice and gives you a hard slap on the shoulder that almost throws you off balance