Divine Celebrity 115 (Patreon)

“So, what’s the plan, Coach? Celebration after an amazing day?” Marcus asked me as we were walking out of the stadium, and it was already evening once more. Our meeting was followed by another training on the field where we had run through the selected tactics. 

A session that had gone swimmingly thanks to another little benefit. 

[Teaching II]

Just like my other traits, it wasn’t exactly a cure-all, but it helped me to control the classroom setting much more efficiently than I expected. I always had trouble breaking down stuff into more digestible pieces, but Teaching helped me not only with that, but also helped me to catch any player that misunderstood what I had explained much quicker than I would have otherwise. 

Though, that wasn’t the only reason Marcus was in the mood for some after-game celebration. No, that honor went to the trick with the Recovery-Intent, the low-level healing field spreading from it enough to keep all players near peak condition. 

Combined with the new Trait, it worked to a shocking degree, and a day’s training worked more efficiently than a camp that might have taken a week ordinarily. 

That hardly meant that our problems were over, of course. We still needed about a year to turn us into a functioning team — and even then, we would have been lacking in pure talent — so my tricks were still vital. 

“Unfortunately no,” I answered the question. “No celebration, as I still have a lot of things to attend to before tomorrow’s final walkthrough,” I said. “A lot of arrangements to finalize.” 

“Damn, I certainly don’t envy you,” he said before walking to his car, and I walked to mine, disagreeing with his conclusion but not bothering to argue. More work was annoying, but not when that work was being conducted with Coach Juana — now, Director Juana after her latest unofficial promotion. 

The visit was about going through the logistics of the game day. She asked for a detailed brief, which was understandable, as still, she was the official coach for the game, which meant she still had an important stake in the game. It would be rude for me to reject her when she asked for a walkthrough. 

Of course, I was honest with myself enough to admit that, her looks — her beautiful face and her even more amazing, curvy body, were both on constant display despite her best efforts to undersell them constantly, which earned her some unwelcome attention from Coach Spencer — played a big role in my lack of frustration at the late-night visit being less annoying that it otherwise could have been. 

At this hour, the roads were empty enough, so it didn’t take long for me to arrive at my destination, even if I stopped on the way to pick up some coffee. A familiar building, the same one I had visited just days ago about the fight at the team house, only to be suspended by the dean. 

The same dean that was currently kicked out. Poetic… 

I walked in, waving to the security, who didn’t even attempt to stop me — as I was a rather familiar figure at this time — as I climbed the stairs, and soon, I was standing at the office of the sports director. 

“Come in,” Juana called as I knocked on the door. 

As I entered the room, I couldn’t help but stagger a bit. I had always known Coach Juana was a beautiful woman, but there was a difference between knowing and seeing. 

She was currently wearing a pantsuit, which was rather plain, its cheap cut obvious, but that did nothing to impact Juana’s beauty as I got a glimpse of her from the side, with her hips pushing the pants to the limit. 

The fact that the jacket was not on her, but discarded to the back of a chair, leaving the task of hiding her chest in her white blouse made the show even better. It was equally loose, but there was no hiding her incredible bosom. 

A beautiful sight, but luckily, I managed to walk forward without skipping a step. “I brought coffee,” I said as I walked steadily, carrying a bunch of paper on the other. “I have an iced latte and a warm Americano for you, whichever you prefer,” I said as I put them on the table. 

It would be a lie to say I wasn’t tempted to accidentally topple forward and use the iced coffee to ruin her top. The view would have been amusing. 

Pity I couldn’t just afford the credibility loss that would come along. “Oh, you have one extra?” she asked. 

“Well, I decided having something to your taste would help the late-night crunch more pleasant, so it was basically a selfish move,” I answered with a chuckle. 

“Oh, yes, positively devilish,” she said as she grabbed the iced latte, and some extra sugar I picked just in case. 

I watched as she worked on it, feeling rather miffed that ruining her shirt was not on the cards — at least for the evening — when I realized that I made a mistake. I was still connected to the System while I was wishing, which, combined with Intent, worked just as a telekinetic push, and pushed it forward… 

Spilling right to her top. 

“God damn it,” she gasped as she jumped to her feet, which was too late, as her white shirt had taken a color that was more similar to her beautiful caramel skin, spreading further along. It also turned her top slightly transparent, but unfortunately, it only revealed that she had a huge bra underneath. “Sorry about that,” she gasped as she tried to rub it with a napkin, but it was useless. 

“Don’t worry about it,” I said. “Do you want to go change?” 

“I would,” she said as she stood up. “Sorry about that, I’m not normally clumsy but…” 

“Today was nothing but normal, right?” I said with a chuckle as I watched her grab her bag and leave for the connected private bathroom. 

Her promotion might have resulted in a lot of work, but it also had its perks. 

I turned my attention to the papers as she disappeared into the bathroom, still drawing some new schemes and adding a few other things that required her perusal. Nothing prevented me from using them without warning her, but it might be a problem once other coaches joined the team. 

I draw several more trick plays, ones that I didn’t dare to put on the paper because there wasn’t too much time — and adding some plays on the last day was certainly a bad idea. However, I wanted to test just effective a new trait, Teaching, would be for teaching. 

I had to admit, I was rather hopeful about that. 

When Juana walked back, a hesitant expression on her face, however, took all I had to maintain my gaze on the papers. The reason, was she had changed her conservative white shirt that had been drenched with coffee with the only other thing in her bag. 

A black sports bra. And, considering her self-conscious blush and the little area that the sports bra covered her chest, I would bet my car that she was using that only when she was exercising in her own room. She still wore her blazer, and even tugged the sides self-consciously to limit the show. 

Unfortunately — for her — the blazer was simply too fitting to succeed. 

A gentleman would have offered to go and pick a spare t-shirt from his car, which I certainly was not. 

But I was not a moron either, so I just glanced her way before turning back to my papers, and started drawing an even more complicated scheme. “I wonder what you think about this scheme, coach?” I asked. 

“L-let me see,” she said as she walked forward, the slight stutter in her tone uncharacteristic of her attitude, but seeing I was acting like it was not a big deal, she got more comfortable as she got closer.  

Only to gasp in shock when she arrived. The reason … the play I had just drawn. “Are you crazy?” she gasped as she examined the scheme. “Even professionals can’t handle this play, it’s too complicated.” 

“Really?” I said, doing my best to hide my chuckle — and hide my gaze — as she leaned forward, engaged and frustrated, her earlier hesitation lost in the fury she was feeling.

“Of course, look at this protection scheme, the only chance it ever has working depends on both tight ends making a correct read, and deciding which one to block, and two of the receivers also need to make last-minute adjustments. And, to make things worse, the quarterback needs to read all of them at the same time, and make a decision. Even for a professional quarterback, it’s impossible. What if they blitz forward?“

“I see,” I said, amused at just how much her anger and passion were enough to make her forget about the way she dressed, even to the point that she leaned forward to draw something to the particularly distant side of the paper, and giving me a shockingly amazing view of her cleavage, her breasts perfect enough to justify her obsession to always wear loose shirts. 

Even though hiding them was a crime against humanity itself….