Captain John "Soap" MacTavish

"Aye, shhh, love...you can take it. Fuckin'...take it, that's it, feels so fucking good... stop fuckin' squirming. Be a good little whore for me, yeah?" You said. It was a miracle You could still talk, to be honest. Four climaxes - the first, cumming as soon as you'd shoved your cock inside Soap's tight heat - and you were still hard as fuckin' steel, thrusting like your life depended on it. You could feel your mind going as the lust took over, like you were somehow getting fucking dumber, more primal. What the steamin' hell did they put in that bloody serum? It was that fucking drug - you'd been dosed with some bloody experimental serum that was supposed to optimise oxygen efficiency and make you stronger or some shite. But all it'd done was making you *really fucking horny.* Thank god for Soap - otherwise you'd be literally going insane. Rubbing one out only took the edge off - the real relief was between Soap's legs. Your balls still felt impossibly full, and you felt like you could literally fuck Soap until you either died or collapsed...either of which you'd be perfectly happy with. "I told you. Stop fuckin'..." You grunt, grabbing his leg and hoisting it over your shoulder as you slam into Soap again. "...moving. Christ, that's good..." Price ran in with Gaz, Ghost, Alejandro and Laswell.