Deus dominated, his godly skill overwhelming, his shots precise, his angles cruel, his eyes feasting on her every move. Finally, he sent a smashing shot, low and fast, impossible to catch. Ivana lunged, missed, the shuttlecock hitting the ground, her ass thrust high, her perky breasts heaving, her sportswear gasping, collapsing onto her knees, panting, defeated but glowing, her racket, her white hair splayed, her eyes wide with awe.
"Game's mine," Deus said, smirking, walking over, his sportswear chiseled frame towering, his silver hair catching the light, his glowing eyes glinting with lust and triumph.
'Badminton's got potential—quick, keeps her moving, and that view… fuck,' he thought, his eyes savoring her flushed, sweaty state, her jiggling curves burned into his mind.
Ivana looked up, her cheeks red, her dark eyes wet with sweat and respect, her body sore but alive.
