Nate tags in

The last ripples of Emily’s orgasm hadn’t even faded before she felt the shift in the circle. The air itself seemed to press in—denser, hotter, laced with sweat and smoke and the sharp tang of sex.

And then Nate moved.

No one dared stop him.

He didn’t speak, didn’t ask. He simply stood, peeled off his board shorts with calm efficiency, and stepped toward her—naked, cock flushed deep red and hard, already leaking at the tip. His body was sun-dark and lean, muscles tense like they’d been coiled for hours waiting for a signal.

Emily’s eyes widened, her body still humming and slick, her legs splayed wantonly across the towel.

She didn’t stop him either.

Nate dropped to his knees between her thighs and grabbed her hips with both hands. The pressure was rough, possessive, needy. He guided her back into the sand, leaned over her, and lined himself up in one smooth movement.

Her cunt was still soaked, stretched, raw from Theo’s tongue—and Nate plunged into her with a single hard thrust.

“Ah—fuck—!”

Emily cried out, her back arching violently, her mouth falling open with shock and heat. He was thick, solid, filling her in a way that made her walls clench instantly, welcoming him deeper.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Marcus muttered aloud.

Jamie was stroking himself openly now, no longer hiding it. Olivia’s hand had slipped down between her legs. Cara leaned forward like she was watching art.

Nate didn’t just fuck her—he took her, claiming Emily with the kind of unhesitating, single-minded hunger that bypassed permission and melted it into pure submission.

His cock speared into her soaked cunt in one brutal thrust, and Emily’s cry wasn’t a protest—it was a shockwave, her body arching upward, breasts bouncing as she choked on the sensation. She was still slick from Theo’s tongue, her pussy stretched and throbbing from orgasm, but Nate was thicker, longer, harder than anything she’d taken in months—maybe ever.

“Fffuck—” she whimpered, hands clawing at the towel beneath her as he bottomed out with a deep, wet slap of hips against ass.

Nate gripped her thighs, his fingers sinking into the soft curves just above her knees as he began to fuck her in earnest—sharp, piston-like thrusts that made her whole body rock with each impact. His balls slapped wetly against her, the sound obscene, amplified by her soaked pussy sucking him in greedily with each grind forward.

Her mouth fell open, gasping. “Oh god—Nate—fuck, fuck me—”

He did.

Her legs were thrown high, spread wide, ankles hooked over his shoulders as he pounded her into the towel, his cock punching into her slick cunt again and again until her body was a shaking mess of overstimulated pleasure and raw noise.

“You’re fucking dripping,” he growled, sweat rolling down his chest, his abs flexing with every violent stroke. “This pussy wants it.”

She couldn't deny it. Her eyes rolled back. Her pussy fluttered around him—tight, soaked, gripping like a fist. Cum from Theo’s earlier tonguework mixed with her own slick, now churned by Nate’s relentless rhythm into a filthy froth that coated the base of his cock.

She came hard, without warning.

Her back bowed. Her thighs clamped around him. Her cunt locked up like a vice and milked him through the orgasm, her scream cracking into a sob as her vision whited out.

But Nate didn’t stop.

“Take it,” he growled, voice hoarse, fucking her through the spasms, his cock dragging along her hypersensitive walls, igniting another climax already building beneath the surface.

He slammed into her with a final, **** series of thrusts—hips jerking erratically now, his groans rough and deep—and then shoved himself fully inside, balls tight against her ass, as his cock erupted.

Emily gasped as she felt it—hot, thick spurts of cum filling her cunt, pulse after pulse, coating her walls as her body clenched again and again around him. He stayed buried, twitching, panting above her, his seed leaking from her spent, wide-stretched pussy.

When he finally pulled out, the wet squelch was loud and obscene, a fresh dribble of white cum sliding down between her thighs, catching in the folds of her slick, used cunt.

The firelight flickered.

The group watched—silently, hungrily.

And Emily just lay there.

Used. Soaked. Wide open.

Waiting.