bisexual orgy poems !

sexy poem 1

bare,
three
big cocks
for
sucking

on a big rock,
in the middle of this woodland stream
covered in fallen leaves,
moss and chilled air
in the wine

cum big
white gobs
on chins
and kisses on lips
ears and
noses.

drunkenly
we crawl
back to our
tent and the girls
 
forestorgy said:
bare,
three
big cocks
for
sucking

on a big rock,
in the middle of this woodland stream
covered in fallen leaves,
moss and chilled air
in the wine

cum big
white gobs
on chins
and kisses on lips
ears and
noses.

drunkenly
we crawl
back to our
tent and the girls
Is this based on something that happened to you or something you want to happen?
 
trio

here is one from the dropping pants thread:

compromised
by SeattleRain ©

~

last night
he finally gave permission
to bring you into my mind,
through compromise,

he brought you as a gift,
a gift he wanted to watch from the side
being opened slow,
low on my knees, hand through denim
smile and lip bite,
unzip, lift and tumble free

for light kiss tease and breathe in
between, until your muscles weak,
you to knees while he greets

I take more than my fair share, again,

hand and knee crawl between,
my bookend lovers, face to face
a reflection in time's mirror-
he demands only your eyes meet his,
in payment for borrowed lips, tongue
the use of my generous mouth

touch is optional, yet you allow
long hands on strong shoulders
for balance as we seek and
find our collective rhythm
crescendo, fortissimo

marimba mallets played with
two hands down spine
woodwind and trombone
mouth and slide
in low between a

supersonic trio,
squeezed like an accordion
air pushing through with whispered song
up to loud orchestra hit

James Brown demands:
"take it to the bridge"

six eyes close
lift and jump in together
landing tangled,

collapsed and floating down
our collective stream
 
wait, I dont think three constitutes orgy. I am not so good with numbers. surely wikopedia could help me with the destinction
 
annaswirls said:
wait, I dont think three constitutes orgy. I am not so good with numbers. surely wikopedia could help me with the destinction


At first I laughed but you know what? You are right Wikipedia does have a definition. 4 or more.
 
Gotta love Wikipedia. =) Now I'm gonna go on there and see what other dirty things might be there, like when I discovered the unabridged dictionary in my elementary school had the four letter words left in. You've inspired me.
 
My poem A Hot Sex Scene is about an orgy. I guess it could be straight, bi, or both. It was written in 2004 after a very vivid dream.


We have forgotten last rain--
wetness shunned beneath graves,
roadsides, while we walk breezeless dry.

I ask the strangers to turn out our sun,
but they smell of gasoline and sex,
fueling us with their want
as we lead them to the place:

cracked floors, bare and spread
from wall to window,
with straight backs,
no cushion or plush for pushing,
only wood--soon sweat,
skin and cling.

We watch the heat waving
between chairs, cocks,
and six penetrables.

Count them: three, four, five, sex.

Brown With Wide Smile,
shaved from toes to beneath arms,
trembles to Deep Sleek.

Someone whispers, Deep Sleek
from outside the window
where noon builds bonfires on our backs.

Wild Cry burns shadows out of the corner
till the place is solar.

Wild Cry is a palm presser,
bent and touching boards,
her one, two, three,
the only shade for him and him

and him, stroking far into the heat,
groaning ultraviolet, Fuck!

~

We are beckoned, sol blinded,
fire stirred and kissing the sun.
 
WickedEve said:
My poem A Hot Sex Scene is about an orgy. I guess it could be straight, bi, or both. It was written in 2004 after a very vivid dream.


We have forgotten last rain--
wetness shunned beneath graves,
roadsides, while we walk breezeless dry.

I ask the strangers to turn out our sun,
but they smell of gasoline and sex,
fueling us with their want
as we lead them to the place:

cracked floors, bare and spread
from wall to window,
with straight backs,
no cushion or plush for pushing,
only wood--soon sweat,
skin and cling.

We watch the heat waving
between chairs, cocks,
and six penetrables.

Count them: three, four, five, sex.

Brown With Wide Smile,
shaved from toes to beneath arms,
trembles to Deep Sleek.

Someone whispers, Deep Sleek
from outside the window
where noon builds bonfires on our backs.

Wild Cry burns shadows out of the corner
till the place is solar.

Wild Cry is a palm presser,
bent and touching boards,
her one, two, three,
the only shade for him and him

and him, stroking far into the heat,
groaning ultraviolet, Fuck!

~

We are beckoned, sol blinded,
fire stirred and kissing the sun.
Mon dieu, that IS hot, Eve.
 
love poems !

hey

everyones poetry is awesome !

im glad you enjoyed my poem.

im just starting to write and i find poems

are much more my style then stories.

i didn't even think about an orgy being 4 or more people.

its a fantasy of mine to be with 5 guys ! so maybe ill have to

do something about that !

im only bi-curious, but my friend and i are going to be

bi-roommates when he gets back to school in the spring. and im excited.

because there's a chance that we will develop a polyamorous love affair

with several of our sexy lady friends!
 
I remember Dominique
and how she would wear one sock
when making love
‘I am never fully naked
in the presence of a man.’ She said
as she dipped her head

Francois lost in a confusion of hands
her breasts, two great luminous moons
wobbled like blancmanges
as she wrestled beneath my weight
Dominique’s were more modest
Tipped with tungsten bullets
pressed against my back

it struck me as rather odd
to see the pink cotton foot
thread through my thighs
curl and anchored about my leg
as pelvises ground against eachother
like a restless tide

I wanted that foot naked
 
making breakfast

I'm lying out,

on the kitchen counter

bathing in the morning sun.

A sweet smile, is all

I wear around the house.

My warm, wet, pink, soft

and puffy lips are open and waiting for

friendly morning kisses.

I'm a Beauty, waiting for breakfast

and any lovers to

climb up and sit together.

big cock dripping

sex together, slow

while they cook pancakes, and watch,

our gentle, cooing little moans

while she makes coffee

your alluring,

you bring me joy.

cum inside of me,

we'll share later.
 
bi winter wind poem !

My British roommate

couldn't afford a ticket home for Christmas.

So,

Like brothers we shared my bedroom for a month

and by the window in the moonlight, each night

we stripped

our cocks Big, hard and dripping,


Pulling back his foreskin,

Placing him in my mouth,

He thrust and thrust,

hearing me begging for him

He'd come all over my face.


We kissed for hours.

on my bed, in blankets,


We shared our bodies

holding hands and

jerking on eachothers

Big cocks,

in the cold.
 
Great Smoky Mountains

found out,

discovered,

half naked

getting out of my

swim trunks,

bare bottomed

you stole my clothes

and watched me get all

turned on.

then asked why ?


yes, i want to

know what its like

sucking your cock

everyday.

Slowly undressing you

and finding pleasure

moving in

between us.


i dream about you

and

masturbate.


i dream of us with beautiful girls

flower dresses lifted off,

hair in buns and bare breasts.

spread open pussies for their pleasuring

living for these summers

in some sexfilled

open field

there

naked,

before us

inviting

we could

all
learn

kama sutra

before

we leave

for the
lake.
 
Last edited:
wanting to love your cock

her pussy opens

gently, like a flower

we sniff

kiss

and lick

eachother

around and around

push it in her

push it in him

push it in me


we

love

the hours pass

love making

admiring your cock
 
Last edited:
Straight to bi?

I lay back upon the pillows
and watch you being licked
tasted then engulfed.
The pained look then
surprised excitement
from the first time
taken for my fantasy,
as I play to orgasm
seeing your delightful
hardness springing
till you moan, all else
forgotten in ecstasy.
 
Brother
let us meet
like men
on the finest
of fields:
here in the center
of Her,
swords drawn
eye to eye,
in this heated
battle,
grinning
as the valleys
we stand astride
flood
with our
exertions.
 
give me both of you
your tired sex life, the ways
you've lost your heat
and I'll make you rely
on each other
and bring it back to you.

I will become the common enemy
your marriage needs

I'll bind your love back up
with more than ropes
you'll have to lean
literally
pressed face to face
and suffering

I'll keep your wife
at the edge
shaking against you
and begging for it
I'll make her say your name
when she begs

I'll take your husband
down to his bones
and grind his surrender
till he knows his strength
and remembers how
the inside of his flesh
feels, touched
I'll take his power
to a peak
and then force feed it
to you.

you won't know who I am
but you'll remember
each other
and that's the point.

Not that it isn't
selfish of me
to want to torture
your complacency
and shake your
ingratitude
for what you have
and what you could
in a heartbeat
lose.

this is the lash
whatever the meat
of the moment
you must remember
all you have
is each other
and now.
I'll beat it in
to you
if I must.
 
WickedEve said:
My poem A Hot Sex Scene is about an orgy. I guess it could be straight, bi, or both. It was written in 2004 after a very vivid dream.


We have forgotten last rain--
wetness shunned beneath graves,
roadsides, while we walk breezeless dry.

I ask the strangers to turn out our sun,
but they smell of gasoline and sex,
fueling us with their want
as we lead them to the place:

cracked floors, bare and spread
from wall to window,
with straight backs,
no cushion or plush for pushing,
only wood--soon sweat,
skin and cling.

We watch the heat waving
between chairs, cocks,
and six penetrables.

Count them: three, four, five, sex.

Brown With Wide Smile,
shaved from toes to beneath arms,
trembles to Deep Sleek.

Someone whispers, Deep Sleek
from outside the window
where noon builds bonfires on our backs.

Wild Cry burns shadows out of the corner
till the place is solar.

Wild Cry is a palm presser,
bent and touching boards,
her one, two, three,
the only shade for him and him

and him, stroking far into the heat,
groaning ultraviolet, Fuck!

~

We are beckoned, sol blinded,
fire stirred and kissing the sun.

No pines? I've had dreams about pines, some of them not good. At least you would have had shade, solar butt.
 
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