The Ghost in Me is You

You hate big family gatherings, but on the 4th of July there’s no excuse to not come visit your dad’s yearly bbq fest where he invites the whole neighborhood and a few of his colleagues to come enjoy some cold booze, colorful fireworks, and the best goddamn barbecue in all of the US of A.

Already there’s a ton of cars parked in front of your parents house, which unfortunately means you’ll have to park further up the street, having to walk all the way back.

“Fucking, stupid…” You decided to wear the absolute worst heels for an event like this, but you like looking good, and the men’s attention isn’t fully unwanted either, up until the moment Price (your dad) tries to play matchmaker with you and Gaz. There isn’t really anything wrong with Gaz, he just doesn’t do it for you, and besides your dad intervening makes it even less appealing.

But you arrive on time, as the dutiful daughter, and walk into your former home.

“Hello?” you call out, and near immediately your mother, Betty Price, comes rushing from around a corner.

“Oh my darling daughter, it is so good to see you again!” She comes at you with open arms.

“Hi mom.” You accept the smothering hug and kisses, where your mom tries to wipe off the lipstick stains by licking her finger and rubbing your cheeks. “Mom, God! I can do it myself, just- doesn’t dad need you?”

“Oh stop whining, you’ll never be too old to let your mom dote on you some! But yes, you are right, I have so much to see to! Go upstairs and get settled in, then come help your dear mother, okay?” She squeezes your shoulders.

“Okay fine,” you say and roll your eyes, feeling like a teenager again whenever you enter this home, but it’s been 8 years since you moved out, you really should act more mature.

Yet you do as told, which isn’t an odd thing coming from an army family, and you walk upstairs and into the bathroom with a window facing the backyard. You look at yourself in the mirror, wearing a pretty yellow summer dress that is, in the right light, a bit too sheer perhaps, and your dad will undoubtedly comment on it, but it’s too late to change now.

While you’re trying to wipe off the red lipstick stains your mother left on you, you hear talking through the window.

“You really can’t go anywhere without that mask, huh?” You recognize the voice as Soap, and walk to the window to see who he’s talking to.

“Not really. It’d be chaotic if all the women got a glance at my face.” A different voice, British, and not one you’ve ever heard before.

The man in the mask is tall, buff as all hell, and indeed wearing a skull mask. Intriguing, could this be the famed Ghost guy?

“How will you expect to eat any of the food then?” Soap continues.

“Can’t go a whole day without eating!” Gaz says, and urgh of course he’s here already. “Hey Captain.”

Your dad approaches them, beers in hand as he offers them to his esteemed guests. Ghost accepts one but doesn’t do anything with it; how’s he supposed to with that mask on?

“So, where’s that daughter of yours?” Gaz again, inquiring about you.

“She’s upstairs getting ready, you know how women are.” And all except Ghost laugh at that.

You roll your eyes; you’re not getting ready! You’re trying to clean up after your mother’s barrage of kisses! But you won’t let a bit of misogyny get in your way of having a fun day. So you push your tits together, creating an even more enticing cleavage, fluffs up your hair, and out the bathroom door you go again.

“There she is! My darling daughter!” your father proclaims as you step onto the back porch, and absolutely everyone turns to look at you.

Embarrassed by the attention, knowing well you’re dressed in a manner that will leave the wives gossiping, you step down onto the grass and approach the gathering of rather handsome men - yes even Gaz is attractive enough, but he’s like a puppy to you, you can practically see the tail wagging the closer you get.

“Hey Soap, Gaz.” You greet them with a smile and slight wave.

“Darling, I don’t think you’ve ever met Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley here,” Price says and gestures toward the man towering above you.

So tall indeed that you have to look up to meet his intense, burning gaze.

“Ma’am,” he says, all gruff and low, and accepts your handshake when you extend your hand. “Firm grip.”

“Father taught me well,” you muse and feel kind of proud to be complimented on your handshake. “Here, let me take that for you.” And you gladly take the beer from his hand, keeping eye contact as you take a sip from it.

“Thanks,” he grumbles.

And those were the last words you two exchanged for several hours. You talk with the neighbors, with Gaz, your parents, and everyone else except Ghost. It’s not fully intentional on your behalf, it’s just that he never approaches you, a thing you’re so used to, and you might be just a tad bit shy against his cold and hard exterior, yet whenever you look at him he’s staring at you, arms crossed, standing close to Soap. Truth be told, the summer heat isn’t all that’s getting to you, it is unbearable being underneath his intense and burning gaze.

You hope he's thinking what you're thinking as you step past him, eyes locked together, a sly smile on your lips and you see it, a hint of something primal in his glare, it's as if he hates what you do to him, and you haven't even begun yet.

So you walk upstairs, into the bathroom you were in earlier, and stand in front of the giant mirror, waiting.

Not that you have to be particularly patient, as there's a knock on the door soon after you arrive, and opening it up reveals-

Ghost, nearly the height of the goddamn door, standing there quietly. He then steps in, doesn't wait for an invite and looks around, letting out a slight, "Hm," as if 'this'll do'.

He turns to you, meeting your inviting gaze, peeling off his gloves. "You want this?" His hand reaches down to grab at the outline of what looks to be quite the erection - quick on the draw, ain't he.

"Yes-

"Yes sir," he interrupts, "Say it."

Heat shoots through you, warming and wetting your cunt. Ghost looms over you, bringing a hand up to swipe his thumb across your parted lips. God you want him so so bad.

"Say it."

"Yes, sir."

He hums, pleased. "Good girl."

And if possible, that makes you even more excited, your pussy thrombin, declaring its need for attention now.

"Lift up your dress," he commands like he's on the battlefield whispering into a walkie talkie.

You do as told, pulling on the fabric, revealing your soaked, lacy, light blue panties.

"Take them off," Ghost grumbles.

Again, following orders like you were one of his privates on the battlefield. He extends a hand, waiting, and it takes you a second to realize what he's asking for, handing him your used underwear.

He sniffs it, taking a long, deep breath, and exhaling with a guttural, animalistic, "Harrh," his eyes now hungrier than before.

Then he grabs you by the hips, spinning you around so that you face the mirror, and bends you slightly forward, testing how far down you're willing to go without forcing you.

And you feel it, the head of his cock teasing your entrance, you can't help the slight whimper as you bite down on your lower lip to keep quiet.

Slowly he pushes in and for a moment you swear it won't fit, stretching your pussy to its limits the deeper he goes, your hands gripping at the edges of the sink, but God if it isn't the most incredible feeling you've ever felt. Barely has he moved and already you're on edge, dripping wet and wanting to moan out louder than you ever have, and you're no virgin.

Ghost grabs you by the hips, not so hard that you'll bruise, but with enough force to remind you who's in charge here. He groans out as he pulls out and thrusts into you.

You watch in the mirror how he looks down at where you swallow him whole, again and again as he sets a rather calm and collected pacing.

"Y-you can go faster," you utter carefully, eyeing the open window where everyone will hear you if you don't control yourself. "I won't break."

"But can you keep quiet?"

"Why?" You smirk. "Afraid Captain Price will hear his precious daughter getting pounded by someone she doesn't even know?"

"He trusts me."

"Clearly he shouldn't, seeing how you're defiling his only child."

"Stay quiet and I may give you what you want."

"Pinkie promise," you laugh and he smacks your ass hard enough to make you yelp.

And then he sets a faster pace, rougher and harder, making you whine with pleasure.

"Fuck that's good, so tight," he groans, eyes glued to where you meet.

With every thrust his cock massages every sweet spot inside your cunt, bringing you closer and closer, and you warn him,

"I-I'm close, haah."

"Show me that pretty face of yours," he says all deep and vulgar, voice thick with lust as he meets your gaze in the mirror, staring just as intensely as he had earlier in the backyard.

And you show him just how good his dick makes you feel, mouth wide open, eyes on him, a wonderful blush across your cheekbones, and you screw your eyes shut as you cum with incredible intensity, the kind that can bring tears to your eyes as you let out a choked moan to the beat of heat exploding in your cunt.

"God that's it, arrh, haha," he grumbles quietly when it's his turn to cum, fucking you vigorously so that your tits nearly pop out of your bra, pounding you to a point where you'll be wonderfully sore for a few days. And it must have been a while since he last came because he fills you past the brim, his cum dripping out of you and onto the floor while he's becoming flaccid inside your hole, and when he pulls out, you gasp, feeling how it all spills out and drips down your leg.

"That was… wow," you laugh and look at the floor. "I'd better clean this up before it scares someone to death."

"And I'd better get outside again so your dad doesn't get suspicious." 

But you don't want him to leave, you could honestly go for a second round, maybe even three, but you get it, this was a one time thing, as wonderful as it was.

"Yep yep, you better get going then," you say, avoiding eye contact.

He grabs you by the chin and angles you upward so that your eyes may meet.

"This was lovely," he says with that deep, baritone voice and heavenly accent of his, then leaves you weak in the knees.

After cleaning up real quick and waiting a moment for it all to flow out of you, you return to the backyard and to your smiling father, so proud of his daughter, and waves you over.

"Sweetheart, come here and listen to the hilarious story Gaz just told me!" he calls to you.