Hullo, Everyone!
Our Hedo adventure this year is just complete, and we would like to give you a little report. We had an absolutely grand time, maybe the most memorable vacay we’ve ever had.
We were part of the amazing and funtastic Travel Naked group, hosted by Kara and Eric of Exotic Travel Services in Colorado and Mish and Tim from Washington State. Wonderful people, all. We can recommend Exotic Travel for their planning — it was flawless and fully satisfying. Apart from the trip each June to Negril, they plan sexy vacations in Costa Rica and the Domincan Republic other times of the year.
Anyway, we got up at 2 am Saturday the 18th to make a 5:50 flight out of JFK in New York. Our reservations were with Air Jamaica, which has the most appealing schedule — we like how early we can get to MBJ and how late on the last day we can leave. When we got to the gate, however, we saw we would be boarding an aircraft bearing the name “North American.” It was a charter arranged by Air Jamaica, a rather old B-757, but it got us to Montego Bay uneventfully and on time. (Just so happens the Obama campaign rented a B-757 from North American in 2008. But we digress.) More about North American later.
Unlike our previous experiences, baggage claim and customs and immigration were swift. The relay in the SuperClubs lounge was brief, too. And we didn’t have to wait on the bus! The ride started soon after 9 o’clock, Jamaica time. There would be a lot of arrivals at MBJ later in the morning, so we were pretty lucky to get goin’ so soon.
On the bus we would meet Tony from Connecticut, a totally loveable single gent and fellow Hedonist. We sat just behind two young ladies who were going to Breezes. They were altogether happy to be getting away. While they chatted and gazed at the passing scenery, we became our usual daring can’t-wait-to-get-there frisky, with lots of petting. Maybe our fellow passengers sensed this and maybe they didn’t, but the five-way conversaish eventually turned all Hedo and very, verrrrrry sexy, and the ride was great good fun. Arrived at Hedo around 10:30. Nice!
Check-in at the resort is always a happy time, but we were told our GVP room wasn’t ready yet. Would we mind switching to an OVP? No, of course not! Ocean view — who could complain? This would be our first room (of three visits) on the prude side, but the location wasn’t that bad. And with the new c/o policy on the prude side, we were able to walk around naked all the while. To the nude side, from the prude side, we strutted. We felt soooo free, soooooo sexy, sooooooooo horny doing this! Yet — there were problems with the room. Are you ready? The biggest tree on the beach was right outside our window. ‘Twas a beeeeautiful specimen, but c’mon. We admire lush tropical foliage, esp. lush tropical trees enveloped by green-and-yellow split-leaf philodendrons. To have ocean view through ‘em, though, was for us phantom. If we looked between Leaf #2565 and Leaf #2566, we could see a tiny little sliver of Caribbean. That was it. Still, we knew we could get full ocean view by walking just down to the beach. Easy, Mon! Inside, the air conditioner had been taken apart, knobs and panels laid on a bed. The repairman took about ninety minutes to finish his work, and afterward, fortunately, the AC worked satisfactorily — if noisily — our whole stay. Pretty good. Not so the shower! When we first stepped in and turned the faucet handle, it came off in our hands! Reattaching it, loosely, we had trouble getting any water pressure or any warmth. This problem would persist, likely ‘cause our room was second-floor and the plumbing isn’t powerful enough to function efficiently up there. And oh, speaking of malfunctions — neither the room phone nor the TV remote worked during our stay. Patiently, politely, we called all of these matters to the attention of management, but you know the answer: “We’ll see what we can do about them.” The faucet handle was tightened the next day, but the other probs remained. Oh, well. We aren’t demanding types.
Heard there were air conditioning issues on the nude side. Glad we didn’t suffer them, but hey, we all deserve the comfort we pay for, and we empathize with our fellow Hedonists. Shouldn’t be anything wrong with air conditioning at a resort in the tropics, ever.
We were on the beach, with drinks, nude, legs spreading, getting hornier, in no time. How sweet a feelin’ that is, right? We slathered suntan lotion on, paying particular attention to those parts of the body that had seen too little sun, and got aroused. Awhile later, we would go snorkeling, a fave pastime for us. Since last year, when the Hedo snorkel boat was destroyed in a storm, Hedo has had to share a vessel with Breezes. So the departure time has changed from Noon to 2 pm. The sky is less sunny at 2, and the water isn’t as translucent, but the time change brought us some incredibly good luck: our snorkeling boat captain, a really cool dude who fancies himself “Jesus,” knew there’d be no other parties out at that hour. So he authorized us to snorkel nude! We were able to do just that each of our several swims, day after day! The fish spent as much time staring at us as we did at them. And have you ever tried foreplay in the sea? Have you ever led your partner through warm tropical waters with, um, a carefully-positioned, stimulating pull of your fingers? This was a truly amazing experience for us. Maggie and Bob and Jesse and many others snorkeled alongside. We don’t know who went naked or who got any bit horny. We were just delighting in our own opportunity: ’twas a longtime fantasy come true. Two excitements at once. One fellow did mention to L how much he enjoyed the view of her nudity out there. Which only heightened the thrill.
One day we motored to the small caves around the bend from Hedo, just at the edge of Bloody Bay. Seven or eight of us were maneuvering in a narrow passageway toward a cave when a big roar came alongside, and, to our alarm, a young Jamaican stud on a Ski-Doo was taking a bikini-clad MILF to the cave at like 30 mph, just past our masks and fins. This was scary, and the normally shy Maggie was sure to let the lad have a piece of her mind.
A highlight upon our return to terra firma that first afternoon was the arrival of Ann, the Travel Slut. What a gorgeous woman! Pretty and fun-loving and great to talk to.
Later Saturday we spent time at the nude pool and hot tub, enjoying drinks and good conversation. Jodi gave us beaded necklaces with our names. She and Thomas are a hot couple. Saturday night’s theme was Futuristic Fashionistas. L, in her shiny silver ultramini-dress and FMP’s with bright red toenails and somehow missing panties, looked positively ready for sex in 2021, 2031, 2041, and 2051.
We spent time late that evening in the Piano Bar, where Dion reigns. He was at his best. We sat with Jeff and Cindy, a lovely and really sexy couple celebrating their fourth anniversary. Cindy has beeeeeautiful eyes and was wearing a pair of heels that made us drool. Then we went to the hot tub. It was steamy there, in more ways than one. By 2 am, 25 hours without sleep, we were weary. And actually quarreled some. But back in our room we exchanged words of love and fell asleep in deep embrace. Isn’t it wonderful how Hedo keeps the passion going? How easily you can get along, even if you disagree ‘bout something?
The next day was beach and drinks and pool and drinks and beach and drinks and hot tub and drinks. It is fun to get really amorous in the hot tub late afternoon, in daylight, when everyone can see. Ooooooh! That evening was Schoolgirl Night. Lots of really, really tiny plaid skirts and half-bare asses runnin’ around! Alas, we didn’t have the right attire. Instead, L wore a slinky, strapless bright-red mini-dress with open sides — you couldn’t help noticing that she wasn’t wearing anything underneath. And her tall heels made her usually shapely legs look stunning. After dinner we returned to the Piano Bar, where a couple who we will call T & A (for that is exactly who and what they are!) did their erotic thing atop the piano. That was like, Wow. What a sexy pair. They would attract our attention every day thereafter. You hafta see the tattoo that T sports on her back! ‘Twill drive you batty! After a round of ping-pong, where L reigned, we proceeded to the Disco, where L danced with Bob, the handsome firefighter from Los Angeles. They grinded, erotically, and were very good together! Then it was on to the hot tub, and quite an experience that was. Around the perimeter, and in the middle, there was action of every kind. Next to us, a couple with no scruples engaged in spontaneous unprotected threesomes with two separate Wallys. When they’d had enough, they climbed out of the water and proceeded, surreptitiously and altogether disrespectfully, to place our clothes and shoes and someone else’s camera (!) in their bag and were quite ready to disappear. We caught the weasels, though. Their claim that everything was theirs was as foolish as their sexual conduct.
Speaking of Wallys, we discovered on two occasions that they — and Vinnies — don’t have to be boorish single males to give others the creeps. They can be boorish husbands or boyfriends who sneak out after their women have gone to bed. This doesn’t favor them socially the next day or two.
Monday was more of our Hedo routine, but we never tire of it. Especially the delight of massaging each other with suntan lotion, over and over, ‘cause we believe in protection from harmful rays. Or is it that darned arousal thing? We were able to buy some ganja — for $10, we got three huuuuge buds! We would enjoy all we wanted after dark. Meanwhile, time on the beach, time in the lagoon, time in the pool, was all fun fun fun. The conversation around the nude pool bar is never dull — we laughed throughout. Mish was offering dabs of silicone lube. We each took some and headed straight for the hot tub. Slick! Time to buy our own tube of the stuff! The theme that evening was Anything But Clothes Night and Glow Night. Mish wore antlers on her ample boobs — her “rack” — and a stuffed beaver you-know-where. Her man Tim wore Foghorn Leghorn at his groin. What a cock! We ourselves fashioned little vests and skirts from bubble wrap and wove glowsticks through ‘em. People thought we were really hot. As in awfully uncomfortable at 80°. Hahahaha! We did sweat a bit! There was to be a 9 o’clock beach party with a bonfire, but management cancelled it due to weather. Too bad — it was a perfectly clear night. We shed our bubbles but continued to glow pink and purple and blue and green and yellow deep into the evening, which drew lots of compliments. After frolicking in the hot tub, we went to the prude beach for some smokes. Do we need to tell you how much pleasure we felt afterward? We cried out in delight. Oh, ohh, ohhhhhhh! Must’ve made our entire building shake.
Fourth day, Tuesday, there was a nude catamaran voyage. We didn’t go, but we heard the snorkeling was superb. Not so superb was the failure of the boat’s engine out there. The crew tried sailing back, but they hoisted the mainsail upside down, and that wasn’t very good. The entire party had to wait for a tow. Got back to the pier two hours late. We, meanwhile, participated in a private photo shoot that Kara offered our group. Only one other couple took advantage. Kara positioned us at the pier, at one of the splash pools up top, on the adjoining mattress, and in the hammock in the middle of the jungle. She used our camera, and quite proficiently — we have some gorgeous lovey-dovey and rather sexy pictures to look at the rest of our lives.
There was a nasty thunderstorm every afternoon, with some dangerous lightning strikes nearby. We were a bit surprised how many people stayed in the water, unconcerned.
Tuesday evening marked the return of Winston, who had been in Los Angeles for promotions. He told us next morning at breakfast he’d had a splendid time, but felt some stress and was glad to be back in Negril.
The theme Tuesday evening was pajama/sexywear/lingerie. C wore diaphanous pink boxers, which revealed a little cock — very little, according to some — and L sported a hot pink halter dress that barely covered her tight little ass. With matching pink strappy heels. Wow! In this skimpy outfit she played ping-pong with the comely Jennifer while Brian and C swooned. L’s dress had this kinky tendency to ride up on stretching forehands and backhands, kinda exposing her pantylessness. What can you do? After ping-pong, and L’s amazing uninhibition, we laid out, rather immodestly, on the mattress just behind the stage. We weren’t doing anything, but several people walked by a few times for some reason. We think the term is “upskirt.”
Wednesday morning L wore a ridiculously sheer bikini top and tiny, see-through, gold-embossed Hedonism booty shorts to breakfast. Where has her modesty gone?
Later that day the Travel Naked group took over the prude pool. We were all nudie there. Last year we joined a prude pool takeover, and the nakedness was exciting. This year, with management’s relaxed policy about full nudity on the prude side, it wasn’t the same thrill. And we had some thunderclaps. ’Twas a pleasant diversion nonetheless, different from the usual. A gal and a guy tried to make it interesting: she was blowing his enormous cock at poolside, for everyone to see, but resort personnel told her she couldn’t do this kind of thing there. Same thing happened to us earlier, when we began to fool around a little, by ourselves, in the prude pool. A woman in a crisp Hedo uniform told us of our inappropriateness.
Wednesday evening was Fetish Night. There were a lot of highly erotic getups, esp. of the S and M variety. Tim won a competition on stage for best female costume — that’s right, best female costume. Winston appeared as the one-and-only Winstina — wig and makeup and short, slutty dress with stockings and heels — and did a really hot, really sexy grind on the stage, to everyone’s prurience and delight. L chose to wear a slinky little black thing that was mostly fence-net. Solid material covered her somewhat, but not entirely. If you peered just above her hemline, you could plainly see through some three inches of netting that she had, once again, forgotten panties. Add FMP’s and you have a pretty complete slutpackage. We went on to the hot tub for a divine MMF with a certain handsome friend. L, God bless her, loves multiple cocks. Good Sir, we will remember you fondly, and hope to meet again.
Thursday, alas, was our last half-day. We ate and drank as if to take Hedo back to New York with us. To our friends, we passed along our leftover weed. Sunbathing next to the nude pool L wore pink heels, ’cause she likes being totally naked with heels and wanted to finish the stay with a flourish. She also collected bottles of rum for winning the resort’s tennis tournament — she’s an accomplished player, but we won’t mention she was the only competitor — and for being runner-up in the ping-pong tournament — losing in a tight match to Ferrario, the totally handsome and sexy and talented EC, who gave her an especially close embrace at the conclusion.
The food all week was, as others have said, OK. Breakfast can be an omelet from Charlie and maybe a mimosa of your own mixing — there is Champagne in an ice bucket next to the juices — and you are quite good to go. (Helps if you are wearing something really sexy, like a see-through bikini or a sheer cover-up.) If you want to try the potatoes or sausages or bacon, you can. More calories. The steamed callaloo is a taste of amaranth, and good, not fattening. You can toast a bagel or some whole wheat bread or an English muffin. We recommend the lox, really tasty, almost to die for. The assortment of melons and pineapple and other fruity delights is a nice selection, too. Lunch up top is rather ordinary. We take our midday meal down at the nude grill, where we can enjoy jerk chicken or beef patties. Yummm. Funny, we don’t eat near this much in our usual life. All-inclusive can make you hungry when you really aren’t. And speaking of that, the chance to drink all day is not anything like the usual. We start at maybe 11 am and keep going ‘til we conk out at 2 am or 3. Of course, the bartenders are instructed to make drinks that are heavy on the non-alcoholic ingredients, with a little boozy afterthought, prob’ly to save money, but it has the effect of keeping us all slightly inebriated and horny and quite ready for more. The buffet in the evening is plentiful, but cannot be mistaken for gourmet. You can usually find something to satisfy, esp. if you accept the offers to fill your wine glasses, but don’t expect Michelin ***. Note: if a tray label says Steamed Bok Choi, it probably isn’t. More likely the greens growing behind the kitchen. We often went to the pasta station, where you can get your choice of nice noodles and your choice of seasonings. Twice, though, the preparation was hasty, and we were disappointed. We spent one evening at Martino’s — the former Pastafari’s — with Vickie and Walt. That was fabulous! The food was exceptional, but for the tiramisu, which, alas, was nothing like tiramisu as we know it. No mascarpone. Vickie and Walt were amazing dinner companions. She a smart and funny and absolutely gorgeous woman; he a smart and handsome and funny ex-Marine. We spent another evening at Munasan, a fine stir-fry with a tableful of charming people.
We had really, really fun conversaish all week with really, really smart and very sexy and incredibly fun Hedonists. Helen and Hugh, from Scotland, to start with. Hugh has dancing eyes and a personality to match. Helen is, well, as seductive as you could ever see in a woman. We could all adore them both. Ann (the one and only Travel Slut), we will remember your riant face, always. Debbie and Jesse: you are lovely. Maggie and Chris, you are delightful people! Nice bodies, too! Tony from New Haven, and Bob from Los Angeles: you are proof both that you can be a single male at Hedo and enjoy everyone else’s admiration. Your cocks are impressive! We hope you had a really erotic time. Boo and Lynn (or Doc, as he likes to be called), you were grrrrrreat fun to talk to. Boo, you look fabulous. Dawn and Fred, nice to talk! Greg and Christine, it was brief but rewarding. Jodi and Thomas: you are sooooo right for each other. We loved laughing with you. Trish and Austin, we only got to know you a little, but we are the happier for it. Jenn and Brian, ’twas fun passing the downpour with you at Kara’s and Eric’s beachfront hot tub, and then waaay enjoyable at the ping-pong table. Cindy and Jeff, what can we say? You are hot hot hot. Happy anniversary! Vickie and Walt, we celebrate your love. You deserve lifelong happiness. Sylvia and McKoy, you are a lovely pair. Syl, keep McK smilin’. Our greatest appreciation is for Mish and Tim, our warm and funny and totally imaginative hosts, along with Kara and Eric, whose love for each other is gorrrrrgeous and whose attention to the group is nonpareil. Thank you! We are grateful to all the great people we met. You all know our situation is pretty hairy, and for accepting that, we thank you.
We regret not meeting the others in our group — our bad — and more keenly, not meeting the friends we made here on the forum — our real bad. Would’ve liked to get together with you. So, soooo, sooooooo sorry. Please keep in touch. We will have more chances, we hope. Would love to meet you and spend time with you.
Remember that we flew JFK-MBJ on Saturday the 18th on North American Airways, the charter that Air Jamaica hired? There is an end to this story, an intriguing one. After the rather dreary 2 p.m. bus ride from Hedo to MBJ, during which we had to keep propping each other up — for DIF was rapidly setting in — we checked our luggage and began the wait for boarding at MBJ at Gate 5. Departure was set for 6:10 pm, which would get us into New York around 11. Again, it appeared, we would be flying on an aging North American plane. 7 o’clock came. We still awaited boarding. 8 o’clock. Air Jamaica personnel told us the aircraft had mechanical problems. This started a stampede in the concourse. Angry and unbelievably loud Jamaican passengers began demanding water, food, ambulances, and refunds. Police arrived to quell the riot. 9 o’clock came. 10 o’clock. Flight attendants began offloading the plane’s galleys through the runway so the delirious crowd at the gate could have something to drink and eat. There was a feeding frenzy. Too, passengers descended on the Air Jamaica staff to learn of options. Who would want to fly on a plane like this even after it’s fixed? At 11, finally, Air Jamaica cancelled the flight. We were to be taken to a nearby hotel, to get a couple of hours of sleep and to try again to fly in the morning. We were relieved. We would be missing work on Friday, but wanted to return safely.
Turns out the signal lights on the aircraft were not functioning. The FAA says this is a condition not acceptable at night, but curiously, would be acceptable for daytime flight the next day.
Sometime after 11 p.m., we had to reclaim our baggage. Problem was, all the baggage handlers had gone home for the night. No one knew how to offload the plane, or operate the tractor, or start the conveyor. Reclaiming, then, took waaaay longer than it should have. Worse, customs authorities made us pass through immigration again, even though we’d not left the country. There was but one agent for like 200 passengers. Oy oy oy! Approaching 1 am, finally, we boarded several rickety buses for the ten mile ride to the all-inclusive Hilton Rose Hall Resort & Spa. Wow! What a place! After check-in, we reported to our room, a beaut on the sixth floor overlooking the complex and the dark, mysterious but compelling surf just beyond. We went downstairs for an all-inclusive late-night buffet, which we took on the grand patio with all-inclusive coconut rum and pineapple juice. The quality of the food was amazing. The setting was lovely. We walked down to the Olympic-sized pool and the beach. We walked past the lazy river, past a lazy security guard, to two gorgeously situated hot tubs. No one around, no one at all. We were tempted to rip off each other’s demure-resort clothes and go for it, but we knew we weren’t at Hedo anymore and had to cool our buns. Moreover, we were drop-dead exhausted. Still, we went back to the room around 2 and had some of our greatest, end-of-trip, DIF-defying passion. Wow, was that ever hot!
We knew we would have to be up at 6 for the return to the airport. Arrrrgh! Our alarm didn’t happen, nor did the wake-up call from downstairs. We awoke at 6:25 to the shafts of daylight next to the curtains, and to the sight of more alert people boarding buses way down in the hotel drive. We managed to get it together for the last bus, and returned to MBJ for more checking in, and more waiting, and more anxiety. Took off in that imperfect North American B-757 at 10, got back to New York at about 3.
But you know what? We aren’t complainin’. Returned safely, after all that, and fully, totally, altogether happy. Especially since we did something’ on the return flight we’ve never, ever done before: discreet but intense HJ’s, one on behalf of the other, that were greatly satisfying and perfectly reminiscent of a wild and erotic several days at Hedonism. Last-chance DIF-postponement, and unforgettable. Our entire trip was altogether memorable, second-to-none.
Thanks for reading this long-winded thing. Regards to everyone! Many happy returns. Hope to see you, one and all, soon.
Lacey and Cliff
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Hedo 2 6-16-25 2017with The Hedo Rockers ! 
Originally Posted by keystone
RE: Our Lovely Trip, June 18-23
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