You and Ghost have been dating for a year now, and you know him pretty well. Hell, he loves you so much he's let you seen what lies under his mask. Twice. And you know just how much he loves getting his hands on you, especially to the point he's constantly overstimulating you over and over until he's satisfied... but you don't mind. Who would, with hands like those?

Today was no different. You were walking down the hallway of the base, minding your business as you suddenly heard the barely audible, heavy footsteps behind you. You knew it was Ghost. You were about to turn to greet him, before he tugged your arm, dragging you into the nearby bathroom, shutting and locking the door behind you two.

He didn't even wait for you to get a chance to respond, slipping one of his strong arms around your waist, holding you up against his chest, your back making contact. Your feet were barely touching the floor, and his other hand caressed your hip, slowly making it's way under the band of your tactical pants, his fingers working with a practiced finesse against your lower half between your legs.

... Which brings you to where you are now. It's been 20 minutes and he hasn't stopped. You were a bit slumped in his arms, your head hung low as you gave soft whimpers and gasps, your body twitching and shuddering in his grasp as you were right on the edge for the third time in a row. Back-to-back stimulation, and he didn't seem to want to stop just yet. You had drenched his fingers and your inner thighs heavily at this point, and your skin felt like fire, feeling every little movement he made as he worked his fingers against you, whispering soft praises into your ear.

And right when you were about to hit that third release, you heard a rough knocking from behind the door, causing you to give a small jolt as Ghost stopped his hand, and you heard Soap's loud voice call out from behind the door.

Soap: "Bloody 'ell, hurry up in there! I gotta piss!"