The Unbridled Bisexual Orgy in the Kama Sutra Palace Never Ends

Dicks, pussies, and asses as far as the eye could see.

Read part I of this essay here!

Illustration by Spunk Rock

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“You want me?” I asked Pam. 

“Of course,” she cooed. 

I slid up underneath her, grabbed her ankles, and held her legs up in the air in a V formation. I spat on my dick for good measure, though she didn’t need any additional lubrication. She was already drenched. 

I slid inside her, and she let out a moan: “Fuckkkkk.” Theo waggled his dick beside his wife, and she started to suck. With his free hand, he played with her clit while I fucked her soaking pussy. With each thrust, she grew wetter and wetter. I reached over her svelt frame and started sucking on her perky nipples while keeping my momentum. As my abs started to cramp from the plank position, Phil walked by. Of course, he was already acquainted with the Pamtheon, so I had him switch positions with me. I needed a break and wanted to replenish, cool off, and find Eve.

When I stepped outside the KSP, I was hit by a wall of humid Jamaican air—so much for cooling off. But I refilled my water bottle and started chugging.

I returned to see Eve, just as I had left her, only sweatier, dancing the night away. As I approached, she dropped to her knees and started sucking the dick of a man adorned in a black jockstrap that made his booty pop. 

When she saw me approach, she asked if I would like to suck it with her. I dropped down to my knees, and Eve watched as I took this man’s dick down my throat. I could tell he felt more comfortable throat fucking a man than a woman and really let himself go to town, holding the back of my head while his dick clogged my windpipe. 

A new friend we had met, Pearl, squatted down to suck my dick while I continued sucking the man. I grabbed her tits and, and when I needed air, moved to kiss Pearl and play with her breasts. Eve picked up the slack, returning to sucking his cock. 

While hot, the positions were indeed a little awkward, and both Eve and I already had a slew of bruises, cuts, sunburns, and rashes around our bodies. (Our flesh was not made for the tropics). 

I thought Eve might want to accompany me to the KSP this time, but she wanted to keep dancing. I was envious of her. (I love dancing but don’t get to nearly enough in New York. I’ve somehow found myself among friends who either fuck, or sit around smoking cigarettes and drinking Modelos. [I only enjoy one of  those things.] They don’t throw ass or drop down and get their eagle on. I [typically] wanna dance with somebody. I wanna feel the heat with somebody.) 

But not tonight. I wanted to feel the heat of someone’s ass, of a hairy chest flush against my pecs, of a warm mouth, a velvet pussy.

So, I returned to KSP alone to see that it still deserved its nickname, the orgy dome. Countless bi folks were sucking and fucking the night away.

I saw a woman sitting alone on a bed. She was capital T-Thicc. Her heavy mommy milkers (way larger than 36 DDs) swayed as she sat, sipping her water bottle. 

I asked if it would be okay to sit beside her, and she gestured for me to pop a squat. “How’s your night been going?” I asked. 

“Great!” she said, in between taking large sips of water. 

“You’re beautiful!” I replied. “I’m not sure if you’re in the middle of a break or are looking to keep playing, but—”

She interrupted me, “I’m down to go again if you’re game.” 

I leaned in, placing one hand on her face. She had soft, pillowy lips she’d pull away right as the kissing was about to jump to a heavy make-out session. At first, I thought she didn’t want to kiss so passionately, but from her roguish smirk, I realized she was teasing me. By the time she wrapped her palm around my cock, I was throbbing. I gently pushed her back so her body lay flat on the bed. I sucked on her titties with one hand and, with my other, started to rub her clit in little circles. 

By the time I stuck inside a finger, she was a goner—a typhoon.

She assumed the position, face down, ass up. I mounted her and tilted her head to the side so I could kiss her while I fucked her from behind. (The perks of being tall). 

I found her irresistible. Her skin was so soft; she clearly moisturized every part of her body daily. Her curves overflowed. Her ass completely consumed my cock. Every time I fucked her, it was like my dick was being sucked into a black hole, disappearing between her clapping cheeks. 

By the time I turned her onto her back, she was out of breath. 

“Do you want to take a break?” I asked, my dick hovering over her pussy.

“Only if you want to,” she replied. 

“I want to keep going,” I said. 

“Then keep going.” 

I grabbed both sides of her face and kissed her as I entered. “Urgh, fuck,” she said, which only encouraged my Dom self to go harder and harder. I fucked and fucked, knowing this level of intensity wasn’t sustainable, but I could feel her pussy tightening around my shaft. I knew she was close. I angled myself upward so that I could press on her clit with my thumb in small circles. That was the sensory input she needed to head over the edge. She convulsed and contracted. I could feel every muscle in her body tense before she exhaled and, with it, released all the tension from the day—hell, maybe even the week. 

I slowly pulled out, my pre-cum leaking. 

“Thank you,” I said. 

“Thank YOU,” she replied, grabbing her water bottle. I wanted to provide some aftercare, as she seemed slightly frazzled, but I quickly realized she wanted a moment alone to recollect herself. 

“I’ll see you in a bit,” I said, standing up. 

“Imma need a round two!” she said with what energy she had left.

When I saw my friend Chad sitting on the bed, his erect dick not in a hole, I staddled up beside him and started sucking him. 

I’ve sucked his cock before on countless occasions, so he knows to take liberty with my mouth, to do as he pleases. I spat on his dick, and he pushed my head down, “Exra sloppy, that’s it,” he said, his voice inflecting upward at the end. (He, like me, is another So-Cal native.)

Chad had the goldilocks of dicks, a paragon of proportions. Not too big that I would (further) bruise the back of my throat, but not too small that I didn’t fear death. (Yes, I have an erotic death wish of wanting to suck on dick to the point I asphyxiate and die. The kink is called autassassinophilia. No, it’s not related to suicidal thoughts or ideation. I enjoy life, for the most part, and intend to remain alive, but I like the fantasy of dying on a cock. What devotion it shows to the craft of deepthroating!)

So Chad had a cock I could suck for an eternity, and I would have had it not been for Harry. Harry was half of one of the same-sex couples at Hedo. In his 50s or perhaps early 60s, he and his husband always wore outlandishly fabulous couple’s costumes for each themed night. 

Whenever I saw Harry, his face lit up. I have a feeling he was this excited about everyone, but it didn’t matter. He still made me feel special. 

Harry was a man who, over many decades, had clearly sucked thousands of dicks. Unclear exactly how many thousands, if it was closer to 2,000 or 10,000, but his eyes would sparkle when he caught sight of a juicy sausage. His mouth would water Pavlovianly. The man just loved being a cock hungry faggot.

So that’s exactly what I called him as his beard bristles tickled my shaft. He sucked deep and hard, and I pressed his head down on my cock so he’d gag. Then I told him to suck Chad’s dick. Then he took both of ours together.

“Are you a cock hungry faggot?”  I asked. 

“Yes,” he whimpered, his dick poking out from underneath his jockstrap. 

Chad and I started discussing our plans for the rest of the week, whether we would go on the catamaran tour or scuba diving. All the while, Harry kept gagging on our cocks, and when he would try to breathe, we’d shove his head back down and call him a cum-hungry whore. 

This is a time when reading body language is so important. I wouldn’t have initiated this scene without knowing that Harry was enjoying himself and actually felt empowered to stop. But it was so clear that Harry was fucking LIVING, in absolute heaven. He sucked our cocks for a solid twenty minutes straight before saying he needed a break. A trooper, a man after my own heart. A legend in it for the game. 

The moment Chad stopped, a woman came up to me and said how hot it was watching the two of us force our cocks down Harry’s throat. This quickly transitioned into a threesome where I was fucking her in the ass while she sucked Chad. (Or at least, I think that’s what happened… My notes from this scene weren’t as thorough as those from the rest of the evening.)

Once we were finished, I was ready to call it. I was BoyTired (what I’m considering titling my next book). The simple act of standing up straight was a feat. 

But then I saw Tessa, her golden skin glowing, as it always did. (She looked like she could be Selma Hayek’s oldest daughter.) She grabbed me by hand, and there was no way I was going to deny her some cock. I met Tessa and her husband, Jack, last year at Hedo on the final evening. We exchanged numbers, and when they visited NY eight months later, we met up, rented a hotel room, and had one hell of a threesome.

I was at Tessa’s mercy, so though I had called it a night, it was like a server bringing over the dessert menu: No matter how full I am, I always have a second stomach for dessert. I always have a second load for Tessa.

“Where’s Eve?” she asked.

Tessa wanted to play with Eve. Everyone at Hedo wanted to play with Eve. I had to share that she was in dance mode. I hoped I wasn’t the worst conciliatory prize.

Tessa’s husband was on a bed, getting pegged in the ass while sucking a dick. We claimed the mattress beside him.

With the flexibility of an Olympic gymnast, Tessa wrapped her legs around me while I straddled her. It felt like a wrestling move. I inserted myself inside her, and she growled. 

“Harder” was the first word out of her mouth. I wasn’t her first cock of the night, and it was clear she was on a mission to climax. 

She directed the show, explaining how to exactly touch her clit (squeeze it beween my first and middle finger—and rub up and down). How to angle my dick so I hit her G-spot (I had to lean back to angle my mushroom head upward). No choking. Heavy eye contact. Light hair pulling.

I was just a flesh dildo, a stunt cock—my body and needs were secondary. 

Now, I love being a service top and will do so until any physical limitations get in the way (e.g., lockjaw, throat bruising, forearm spasms, ab cramps, etc.). So, I did my best to get Tessa the much-needed release she craved.

I pulled out all the stops. Fucking her while in plank position. Rapid thrusts followed by slow, tender touch. Sucking on the clit. Fingering her deep. Kissing her lips. Pinching her nipples. Relishing her every curve.

I could tell she was close when she lay flat on her back. Her juices were dripping and so I gave it my all, the final hurrah, I fucked and plowed and penetrated. She moaned, “harder, harder.” I couldn’t go any harder, but that didn’t stop me from trying. When I felt her pussy contract, I was well past my second wind; it was now or never. She roared and clenched, pushing my dick out of her while she came. I collapsed to her side while she continued to squirm. That’s it, I told myself. No more. Her husband asked me to do him next, but I told him I was out for the count. 

Lying flat on my back, catching my breath, I saw the man I’d deepthroated with Eve on the dancefloor. We locked eyes, and Mother-of-God-shit-Holy-fuck, he was coming this way. There was no way I wasn’t going to suck it again. That simply wasn’t an option. Luckily, I didn’t have to move. He could throat fuck me as I lay on my back. 

“I thought you said you were done fucking the night,” Tessa’s husband joshed. The man throat fucking me granted me a moment to respond. “I’m not fucking. I’m just an open throat,” I replied. He continued holding me by the back of my throat, pummeling down until his cock was rock-hard, lubricated, and ready to penetrate a hole. 

Okay, now I am REALLY done, I thought, quickly jumping up before I could get roped into another scene. I left the Kama Sutra Palace and grabbed my tote, filled with my clothes.

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While the entire week, sex was happening all around, all the time, it was often hard to plan. Often, there would be someone with whom I connected and intended to play, but we were like ships passing in the night. Some person or thing ended up pulling me into another (non)sexual scene. Not to mention, time lost all meaning, and since I was often walking around nude, I had no place to store my phone. (I suppose there was one place I could have put it, but it wouldn’t have been particularly hygienic.)  

But this night, without my phone or any pre-planned rendezvous, I was finally at the right place, at the right time.

God, there really is so much truth to the saying, “Timing is everything.”