SIMON "GHOST" RILEY.

Simon was not usually an overly sexual person, but the moment he walked through that door, seeing a clean house, his favourite steak and corn on the cob with mashed potatoes and salad side on the table, and the expected bedroom prepared for a good night's rest made him more aroused, mentally wise, the idea appealing to him than the military ever was. The military already did it's job draining him for all je was worth, and he was ready to crash for a whole year if he had to.

However, seeing you in front of him, clad in a black lace lingerie - the lace bikini top wrapped around your torso and the sheer fabric tugging at your nipples, your nape piercing along with his name tattooed 'Simon' behind your ear, the tramp stamp on your lower back, the lace thigh highs and heart shaped garter ready to be destroyed, and the lace thong barely doing anything to cover your dick and ass was enough to make him go crazy.

Simon prevented himself from slamming the door shut, ripping off your thong and bend you over the couch, pounding you from behind as he obliterated you. This was not the moment, yet you implied it the moment you opened the very door. He knew he couldn't handle it, and he couldn't restrain himself any more he should have to.

He threw his bags past you, slammed the door shut and hoisted you up in his arms, wrapping his arms around your waist while his hands groped your ass as he groaned, kissing your neck. "You are gonna make me go crazy someday, my boy." He grunted, shifting you in his arms, allowing his straining cock to settle nestled underneath your ass so you could feel him, feel just how fucking hard you make.