Blake Hart
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Slut For Cabo – Part 9
🕑 Added 2025-04-26 04:00:09 +0000 UTCEveryone in this story is 18+
I barely had time to catch my breath, slumped against the creaking beach chair, my hole leaking and my body still buzzing from Al’s thrusts and the second orgasm that had left me trembling. Sand clung to my sweat-slick skin, and my chest heaved as I looked at Jake, still stroking himself slowly, his cock thick and hard, eyes locked on me with that hungry, teasing glint.
“Not done yet, huh?” Jake said, his voice low and rough, like he was holding back a flood. He stood, brushing sand off his thighs, his erection bouncing slightly as he moved toward me.
I swallowed, my throat dry, but the fire in my gut hadn’t died. If anything, seeing him like this—confident, ready, wanting me—made me want to keep going. “Not even close,” I repeated, my voice shakier than I meant but firm enough to make Al chuckle beside me.
Al leaned back, his own chest still rising and falling, his cock softening but his grin as sharp as ever. “Damn, Isaac. You’re insatiable.” He glanced at the ocean, the waves glinting under the moonlight, then back at us. “I’m gonna cool off. You two have fun.” He winked, stood, and—without a shred of shame—His muscular frame glistened as he jogged toward the water, his ass flexing with every step before he dove into the surf, disappearing under a wave.
I stared, mouth half-open, until Jake’s hand on my chin turned my face back to him. “Eyes on me, baby,” he murmured, his lips curling into a smirk. “Al’s got his fun. Now it’s my turn.”
My heart slammed against my ribs. “Yeah,” I breathed, sitting up straighter, my body already responding to the heat in his voice. “I want you.”
He knelt in front of the chair, pulling me forward until my hips were at the edge, my legs spread wide. His hands were warm and steady, one spreading my cheeks while the other slid a finger inside my cummy hole, slow but firm. I gasped, still sensitive from Al, but the stretch felt good—familiar now, thanks to last night.
“Fuck, you’re still so tight,” Jake muttered, adding a second finger, curling them just right to hit that sweet spot”
The thought of it made my face burn—Al’s cum still inside me, now Jake’s fingers working me open. It was filthy, overwhelming, and I loved it. “Keep going,” I panted, gripping the chair’s armrests, my hips rocking against his hand.
Jake grinned, pulling his fingers out and lining himself up. He pressed against my hole—thicker than Al’s, but shorter, the head blunt and slick. “You ready for me?” he asked, his voice softer now, checking in.
I nodded, biting my lip. “Yeah. Do it.”
He pushed in—slow at first, just the head, letting me adjust to the stretch. I could feel Al’s cum still inside me, slick and warm, mixing with the lube, making every movement even more intense.
I hissed, the burn sharper this time, my body still raw from Al. But Jake leaned down as I turned my head to face him, kissing me deep and sloppy, his tongue distracting me as he slid in further, inch by inch, until he was buried to the hilt. The fullness was intense, almost too much, but the way he groaned—low, guttural, like he was losing control—made it worth it.
“Fuck, Isaac,” he breathed, his forehead pressed against mine. “You feel so good.”
He started moving—deep, steady thrusts that rocked the chair beneath us, the canvas creaking in time with the slap of skin on skin. My flaccid wiener bounced against my stomach, still leaking slightly as he hit that spot inside me over and over. I moaned, loud and shameless, my hands flying to his shoulders, nails digging into his skin.
“Jake—shit,” I gasped, my body moving with him, chasing the pleasure that was building faster than I expected. “Harder.”
His eyes darkened, a wicked grin spreading across his face. “You sure?”
I nodded, desperate. “Please.”
He didn’t hold back. His thrusts turned rougher, faster, his hands gripping my hips so tight I knew I’d have bruises tomorrow. The chair rocked dangerously, sand shifting beneath it, but I didn’t care. All I could feel was Jake—his cock stretching me, his breath hot against my neck.
“God, you’re perfect,” he growled.
“Jake—I’m gonna—” I choked out, my body tensing, my back arching off the chair.
“Do it,” I begged, as he slammed into me, deep and hard. “Cum in me.”
Jake kept thrusting, his rhythm faltering, his breath ragged. “Fuck, Isaac—” he cried out, his erection swelling inside me. He slammed in one last time, holding himself deep as he unleashed, filling me with a torrent of warmth that mingled with Al’s, his body trembling against mine. I felt every pulse, every twitch, and it was enough to make my head spin.
He collapsed forward, catching himself on his hands, his chest heaving as he kissed me—slow, messy, tasting of salt and sweat. “Holy shit,” he panted, pulling out gently, leaving me empty and ruined in the best way.
I lay there, boneless, staring up at the stars, my body humming with aftershocks. Jake flopped beside me, one hand resting on my thigh, his grin lazy and satisfied. “You okay?”
I laughed, weak but genuine. “I don’t think I’ll ever be okay again.”
He chuckled, brushing a strand of hair from my face. “You’re tougher than you look, Mormon boy.”
The nickname made me smirk, but it also sent a pang through my chest. Back home, “Mormon boy” was closer to the truth—sheltered, pure, the perfect son. Here, it was a tease, a reminder of how far I’d strayed in just a few days. Sin, my mom would call it. But as I lay there, full of Jake and Al, the word felt hollow. This didn’t feel like sin. It felt like living.
“Hey!” Al’s voice cut through the haze, calling from the water. “You two done fucking or what? Water’s perfect!”
Jake laughed, sitting up. “Come on. Let’s clean you up.”
I groaned, my body protesting as I stood, sand sticking to every inch of me. Jake grabbed my hand, pulling me toward the ocean, where Al was wading, his skin gleaming under the moonlight. The waves lapped at the shore, cool and inviting, and I didn’t hesitate. I waded in, the water hitting my calves, then my thighs, until I was waist-deep beside Al.
“Looking good, Isaac,” Al said, splashing me playfully, his grin wide. “How’s that virgin ass holding up?”
I splashed him back, laughing. “Definitely not so virgin anymore.”
Jake joined us, diving under a wave before surfacing, shaking water from his hair like a dog. “He’s a natural,” he said, winking at Al. “Took us both like a champ.”
I blushed, the water hiding my hardening cock as their words sank in. The ocean was cold, but their presence kept me warm, their hands brushing my skin as we floated closer together. Al’s fingers grazed my hip, Jake’s arm slung casually around my shoulder, and for a moment, we just drifted, the waves washing over us.
I tilted my head back, letting the water run over my face, my chest, my body. It felt like more than just cleaning off the sweat and cum—it was like shedding the weight of who I’d been. The perfect boy, the one who’d made deals with his parents, who’d never touched alcohol or questioned his path. That Isaac was still there, somewhere, but right now, he felt far away.
Jake’s voice broke the silence, soft but clear. “You’re thinking too much again, aren’t you?”
I opened my eyes, meeting his gaze. “Maybe.”
Al smirked, his hand sliding lower, teasing my ass under the water. “Then stop. Just be here. With us.”
I nodded, leaning into Jake’s arm, letting Al’s touch ground me. The ocean carried away the last of my doubts, at least for tonight. Sin or not, this was where I wanted to be.
Al’s grin turned mischievous, his eyes flicking between me and Jake. “I think he can take it, you know.”
Jake’s brow furrowed, his arm tightening slightly around me. “No, Al, that’s too much. He’s basically a gay baby.”
I blinked, caught off guard, my curiosity spiking. “What? Tell me. Or I’ll try to convert you two.”
They both froze, then burst out laughing, the sound echoing over the waves. Al’s hand squeezed my ass, his voice low and teasing. “Oh, you’re gonna regret saying that, Mormon boy.”
Before I could press further, a shout cut through the night from the beach—rowdy, familiar, and way too close. “Yo, Jake! Al! Where you at?” It was one of their frat brothers, his silhouette stumbling toward the water, a beer in hand. And he wasn’t alone. Two more figures followed, their laughter loud and drunk, heading straight for us.
My heart stopped. We were naked, waist-deep in the ocean, and the secluded stretch of beach suddenly didn’t feel so secluded anymore.
