Scarlett Johansson | One-Shots (1)

Coach Callie Pt. 3

-4 weeks later-

Callie:
It's the last week I have of downtime with my wife before the season starts back up. It's been great. We really weren't joking when we talked about having nightly sex. We sort of just made up for all the missed opportunities. Last night we had our final round of hardcore, rough sex. It was so good, that I don't have the energy to get out of bed.

My alarm goes off bright and early. I let it ring and vibrate on the side table until Scarlett, who's lying naked on top of me, reaches over to shut it off. Neither of us moves from our comfy spots, my eyes slowly falling closed once more.

"Mmm, baby. Get up," Scarlett's raspy voice instructs.

"No," I whisper.

"Okay, you leave me no choice."

My eyes open but only enough to see her, not enough to be considered "open". It takes me a moment to realize what she's doing and I don't like it.

"No, please. Don't get up," I plead as she lifts herself off of me, allowing a freezing cold stream of air between our bare bodies. I attempt to pull her back down but she's already off of me. Then, I try to pull the blankets over me but she rips them off of me, wrapping her naked body in them, leaving me in absolutely nothing on the bed.

"I'm taking a shower. Will you be joining me?" she smirks.

"Don't go too hard, I'm sore," I chuckle as I get out of bed and follow my wife into the shower.

"No promises."

In the shower, there's no way around getting intimate. Luckily, we go easy enough so my legs only shake a little. When we finish, I get dressed in my practice outfit and begin my final week of practice. I've been practicing all five weeks of the offseason but this final week has to be more intense. I throw on one of my many, many practice jerseys with matching shorts and head outside with my favorite silver and neon green Adidas soccer ball.

I practice for about an hour until Scarlett bothers me about breakfast. "Looking good, sweetie."

"What? Me or what I'm doing?" I tease.

"Both."

"Wanna join?"

"Oh, no. You've seen me try. It's a dead end. Breakfast?"

"Sure thing."

One of the many things I love about Scarlett is she knows what I'm in the mood for without me having to tell her. She's also an amazing cook. We enjoy breakfast together and I spend the day exercising and practicing, the same as the rest of the week.

-Game-day-

My alarm goes off way too early but I instantly jump out of bed. It's game day. The first game of the new season. Scarlett groans when my body removing from under her pisses her off.

"You have an hour," I whisper to her as I bend down to peck her lips.

I jump in the shower and return to my wife still fast asleep. I run downstairs to practice before the game. 45 minutes later, I head inside to wake up my wife who's still sleeping, not surprisingly.

"Wakey wakey," I giggle, unraveling her from her burrito of blankets.

"No, fuck off," she moans.

I scrunch my nose with a big closed mouth smile and lean close to her face. While rubbing our noses together, I bubble to her in a high-pitched voice, "If you use that language with me again, I'll leave you here while I travel the world with attractive soccer players."

She pouts angrily at me as I change my outfit right in front of her. After a few tries, I finally get Scarlett out of bed, and just barely on time, we're on our way to my game.