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Blake Hart
Blake Hart

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Slut For Cabo – Part 7

Everyone in this story is 18+

That evening dinner was at some polished, family-friendly restaurant with ocean views and a vaguely tropical menu. My parents beamed at me across the table like I was eight, not eighteen years old and ordering chicken fingers. I glanced at the drinks list.

“I might get a Corona,” I said, as casually as I could.

My mom’s head tilted. “You had one yesterday to celebrate. That’s more than enough.”

Dad chimed in, smiling like it was reasonable. “You looked a bit tired today, anyway. Water’s probably better.”

I nodded obediently and reached for my glass of ice water, even though all I wanted was something cold and alcoholic to take the edge off.

They went on, talking about how proud they were, how excited they were for me to go off to Christian college—how they just knew I’d find a nice group of like-minded friends and get involved in “wholesome campus life.”

I smiled, nodded, said all the right things. But inside?

Inside I was thinking about a beach party, a bunch of shirtless frat guys, and Jake’s mouth on mine.

I didn’t know exactly what I wanted yet—but I knew it sure as hell wasn’t this.

My parents kept talking—college, scholarships, housing arrangements, even Bible study groups—as if my entire future was already laid out in brochure form.

I smiled and played along, nodding in the right places, asking the occasional polite question. But my thoughts were already miles away. Or more accurately… down the beach.

When dinner finally wrapped up, we walked back to the hotel together. They said they were calling it an early night. I told them I was going to read a bit before bed. They liked that. Said it was “so mature.”

We said goodnight outside the elevator, and I headed to my room.

Back in the hotel, I shut the door behind me and exhaled.

The minibar had been restocked.

I opened it, grabbed a mini tequila, and flopped onto the bed. That’s when my phone buzzed.

A new snap.

It was Jake—shirtless, sweaty, grinning like a devil. Right next to him was Al, just as hot, their bodies close, and Al leaning in to kiss Jake’s cheek. They both looked flushed and beach-lit. The caption just read: Beach party loading🔥

My shorts throbbed instantly.

I tossed back the tequila—nearly gagged from the taste—but forced it down and started getting ready.

I slid into a clean shirt, low-cut and fitted. Shorts tight, but not trying too hard. My heart was already picking up speed as I cracked the door open and peeked down the hall. No parents in sight. Thank God.

I walked casually toward the elevator, but once I hit the lobby, I turned toward the front desk.

“Hi,” I said, trying to sound casual. “Could you make sure any minibar charges tonight go on my tab? Not the room’s.”

The hotel clerk looked up at me, paused, then gave a knowing grin.

“Si, señor.”

◆◆◆

The music hit me before I even reached the sand—loud, bass-heavy, and echoing off the beachside cabanas. The sky was deep blue, with stars just starting to peek through, and the firepits already flickered with life. The scent of smoke, salt, beer, and sunscreen hung thick in the air. This was definitely not my parents’ idea of a wholesome evening.

I spotted Jake before he saw me—shirtless again, naturally. His skin glowed under the firelight, chest broad and lightly dusted with hair, abs defined but not overly carved. Just strong, real. His dark brown hair was slightly damp, messy from the ocean breeze, and he had that same confident, easy smirk on his face while talking to a small group of guys near a cooler.

And beside him stood someone Al.

Tall. Black or maybe Afro-Latino. Clean-shaven. His skin was smooth and rich-toned, catching the firelight in a way that made him look like he’d walked out of a cologne ad. His tank top clung to his chest, and when he turned slightly, I saw thick, sculpted arms and a solid, muscular frame. His smile was wide, and his eyes sharp and amused.

Jake noticed me and waved me over. “Isaac! There you are.”

I jogged the last few feet, trying not to look like I was sprinting to a first date.

“Isaac, meet Al,” Jake said, casually tossing an arm around both our shoulders. “Al, this is the guy I’ve been telling you about.”

Al gave me a look that went straight through me. Flirty, curious, confident.

“Well damn,” Al said, voice smooth. “He didn’t say you were this cute.”

I laughed, instantly red in the face. “He didn’t say you’d be so built.”

Jake laughed too. “You flirting with both of us already?”

“Maybe,” I said, feeling bold. “Can you blame me?”

Al raised an eyebrow, clearly impressed. “Okay, I see how it is.”

Jake grinned at me. “You’re gonna survive tonight just fine.”

Jake handed me a solo cup filled with something bright and fizzy. “Careful,” he said. “Al makes strong drinks.”

Al winked. “Only the best for our new guest.”

I took a sip—sweet, citrusy, and with a burn that hit late. “Okay... wow.”

“You’ll live,” Jake chuckled, clinking his cup to mine.

We settled near one of the firepits, the three of us squeezed into one big beach lounger. Al's leg brushed mine, his arm stretching casually behind me while Jake leaned in on my other side, whispering something about one of his frat brothers trying to start a drunk limbo contest.

I laughed, feeling a little buzzed already—but also aware of the heat radiating off both of them.

Al glanced down at me, his eyes flicking briefly to my lips. “So, how’s Cabo treating you, Isaac?”

I met his gaze, letting a small smile curl. “Best vacation I’ve ever had.”

Jake raised an eyebrow. “High praise.”

“I mean,” I said, glancing between them, “I’ve only been here a few days… but I’ve already had my first kiss, first drink, first... well, a lot of things.”

Al grinned. “You’re full of surprises. And Jake tends to have that effect.”

I shrugged, trying to play it cool. “Maybe I’ve got a few more surprises left. And yeah... Jake seems fun.”

Jake gave me a long look—something between playful and serious. “You’re kind of addictive, you know that?”

Then I felt Al’s hand rest lightly on my thigh. “So, Jake clearly likes you. Do you like Jake?” he asked, voice low.

My stomach flipped—not with nerves, but with excitement. I glanced at Jake.

“Yeah. I guess I do. But it’s not like we’re an item or anything.”

Jake nodded slowly. “I like you too. But I hear you—we’re both free to have fun.”

Al leaned in closer, his tone more playful now. “Not trying to pressure you. Just saying… if you were curious—”

“I am,” I said, cutting him off, already knowing what he meant.

They both paused for half a second.

Jake tilted his head. “You sure? I mean… you’re pretty fresh. This isn’t exactly Sunday school.”

I laughed—really laughed. “I’ve done Sunday school, Jake. My whole life. I’ve been the perfect boy for my perfect parents.”

Then I looked at them both. “I think it’s time I have a little more fun.”

Jake and Al exchanged a look—one of those silent, loaded glances. Then Jake leaned in, kissing me soft but deep, while Al’s hand slid a little higher on my thigh.

Everything inside me was buzzing—my skin, my chest, my dick. My head was spinning, and I didn’t want it to stop.

Al stood first, brushing the sand off his shorts, and offered a hand to both of us. “Wanna head over there?” He nodded toward a darker, more secluded stretch of beach. “Less of a crowd.”

Jake’s hand found mine too. “No pressure. But if you say yes… we won’t hold back.”

I stood slowly, letting them pull me up between them. My heart thundered, but I didn’t hesitate.

“Lead the way.”

◆◆◆

The music and laughter of the beach party faded behind us as we strolled farther down the shoreline, where the sand was cooler, the waves louder, and we were finally alone.

Jake bumped his shoulder into mine lightly. “So, still sure?”

“Barely,” I said, smiling. “Pretty sure I’ve had more firsts in the last 48 hours than in my entire life but I’m sure.”

Al raised a brow, glancing sideways at me. “Oh yeah? What kind of firsts?”

I hesitated, grinning. “Let’s just say… kissing and tequila weren’t exactly on the homeschool curriculum.”

Jake snorted. “You really are too pure for this place.”

I shot him a look. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

Al leaned a little closer on my other side, his voice smoother now. “No one said it was bad. Just… tempting.”

That made my breath catch. “Tempting?”

He stopped walking, turning to face me fully. “Damn, Mormon boy,” he said, eyes roaming just enough to make my skin prickle. “Jake said you were cute. But you’re cute and hot as hell.”

I opened my mouth—probably to say something smart—but nothing came out. My brain short-circuited somewhere between Mormon boy and hot as hell.

Jake circled around to stand in front of me, too, wearing that same smirk I’d come to recognize—half naughtiness, half hunger.

“I told him you’d blush,” he said. “You’re predictable.”

“I’m not blushing,” I lied.

Al stepped in, just a little closer. “You’re definitely blushing.”

I looked between the two of them, standing there, close enough to touch. My body made the choice for me.

I grabbed Al’s tank and pulled him in for a kiss.

He didn’t hesitate. One hand slid behind my neck, the other to my waist, holding me steady while his lips worked mine open—slow, teasing, completely in control.

I broke the kiss only to turn to Jake and mutter, “Jealous?”

“Not really,” Jake said, grabbing my shirt and tugging me in. “In fact, it’s hot as fuck.”

We kissed too, deeper, hotter, his hands on my hips, pulling me in. Then Jake turned to Al and kissed him—quick, hard. Then they both laughed under their breath.

I stepped back and peeled off my shirt, tossing it into the sand. “So... this is happening?”

They looked at me—brows raised, eyes lingering—as my cock hardened against the fabric of my shorts.

Jake stepped forward, his hands sliding down to my waistband. “You sure about this? You’ve had, what, a day of being the bad boy?”

I met his gaze, steady now. “One week. Let’s make it count.”


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