Dont think about flying from Montego to Negril. Shuttle is an easy hour-fifteen. No problem.
Paid the cheaper price for prude side. Got free upgrade to nude just by asking. Avoid prude side. Nobody there. It's on life-support.
Room quality equivalent to a Comfort or Days Inn stateside. Good enough. If the room is clean and the bed comfortable, why worry about anything else? We didn't.
Staff is generally very nice. Only disagreeable one was Scumba, bartender nude pool. Don't bother trying to talk to him. You'll find more personality in a palm tree stump. At best he'll grunt at you and then serve you a bad drink.
The food isn't gourmet, but it's still pretty good, especially for a place like Hedo. You pedantic ingrates that complain about it should take your Park Avenue prissiness somewhere else.
Plenty of activities to enjoy. We liked the clothing-optional cruise to the caves. Take the trip to Rick's Cafe. Cliff divers aplenty. The Jamaican that dives off the 75 footer for tips is a nut, brave, but a nut. One day he'll land wrong and it'll be all over. The Jamaican kid wants money if you want to use his swing over the water. Told him I wasn't paying for it and he said ok. As soon as I swam to the other side, his sidekick was all over me for a donation. I gave the little reprobate a buck to shut him up. Made the 25 ft jump without incident. Later realized it was a stupid thing to do. One slip and you've got a problem, man. There are stories of tourists getting really messed up making those jumps and I can see why. They say the sunset at Rick's is awesome. Guess we'll have to wait till next time to find out. The one we saw was as colorful as a bowl of oatmeal without the fruit. But by God, we saw a beauty the next night from the pier back at Hedo.
One afternoon in the nude pool was a virtual orgy. Lesbian oral sex was the highlight. One enterprising young lady decided to demonstrate her banana eating technique, only being no banana in the vicinity, she had to settle for the rather sizeable led zeppelin of her boyfriend. The poor man was reduced to a sex object, but oddly enough, he didn't seem to mind. Jolly good sports, both of them.
Oh the wickedness in the hot tub, midnight at the oasis. Damn heathens getting it on with no regard for the sensitivities of the rest of us immoral bastards and lascivious tarts. We were shocked, shocked I say. So shocked that we felt compelled to indulge in the raw horrors ourselves. The next day we felt so guilty about our wanton misdeeds that we decided to wash off our sin by doing more of it. It worked. The guilt was completely alleviated as I lay on my back looking up into the starry Jamaican night, being ridden by my girlfriend. I felt a pleasurable sensation welling within me, was glad of it, didn't care who was watching, and realized that I, a former gentleman who was often welcomed into fine southern homes, had crossed over to The Dark Side.
And there I shall remain, thanks to the illuminating, emancipating powers of Hedonism 2. My wonderful woman and I agree, it was the finest vacation of our lives. We shall return.
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