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When I tell people I'm going to a naked resort in Jamaica, they respond as though I've just revealed my salary or the details of my last menstruation. It's a long blink or a visible shift backward in their seat. Several ask, after a pause, "Are you a naked person?
I don't know. What's a naked person? A naked person probably owns more be than I do, just beaded necklaces every day. A naked person probably sleeps with sex club jamaica under her pillow to ward off negative stuff and leaves candles burning and pees with the door open. I think I'm naked the appropriate amount. I'm naked in locker rooms and in front of my friends when we're getting dressed and in front of sexy friends when we're not.
A naked person?
A jamaican sex resort, through tripadvisor's eyes
It's relative. But I decide to go to Hedonism II in Negril, Jamaica—a clothing-optional resort that bills itself as "the world's most iconic adult playground"—because they invite me and I'm devoted to having experiences. I'm a professional experience-haver. At the front desk, the receptionist gets me a Red Stripe beer and asks if it's my first time to "Hedo," as everyone calls it. First time to Sex club jamaica So this is where I am.
Fall in lust again
There are two sides to the resort: the prude side where you can be naked and the nude side where you must be naked—a policy put in place to stop fully dressed creeps from coming over just to stare. My room is on the nude end, with a little deck that lets out onto the sand and the Caribbean sea, which means that my view will sex club jamaica the unadorned masses. A mirror on the ceiling captures me sleeping alone. When I roll over in the morning, I'm greeted by two flaccid dicks and the dawn.
My next-door neighbors, who are gay men or maybe just naked man friends, are strolling the beach together outside my sliding-glass door. I go to yoga clothed and breakfast also clothed; it's a health violation otherwise.
Inside a two-day sex party at a nudist resort
In the omelet line I meet the guy I sat next to in yoga. I nod and devote my entire gaze to the eggs. I'm not ready to make friends yet. What kind of people even come here? Like a wuss, I start the vacation proper by sex club jamaica in a hammock on the prude side. But then it starts to rain, so I rush back toward my room—at the same time everyone else on the nude side also dashes for cover.
Forty to 50 middle-aged naked people are running to the beach bar for shelter. I stand on my deck watching the rain and their 80 to butt cheeks all in a row as they cram sex club jamaica the bar, chatting and laughing and probably casually touching their genitals to each other's thigh areas. It's around then that I start making some fresh observations about the human form.
Men naturally have more muscular butts; their default is toned, even as they get older, which is so unfair.
Most women just look like their torsos were sliced toward the bottom. We also all have the same roll of fat below our belly buttons, provided by God and Darwin sex club jamaica protect the uterus, and it casts a shadow over our crotch. For all the mental and financial and cultural effort put into maintaining the pubic-hair trend du jour, you can't even really see what women are doing down there unless you're at close range. Nature put in a portico. When the rain blows over, I decide to wade into the proverbial waters of my own nakedness. I start by just hanging out on my patio topless with a bikini bottom on, which is easy.
Topless is basically my preferred state of affairs already. Then I inch out further, past my deck, so I'm sitting on a lounge chair in just bottoms and a large, floppy, necessary-not-just-for-privacy-but-for-sun-protection hat.
I am armed also with my favorite kind of book, a hefty novel about college kids coming of age. After sitting still for around four minutes, I rip off my bikini bottoms quickly, like I'm about to pee behind a tree. No one so much as shifts their gaze.
I'm naked in public by myself. There are beach breezes alighting on areas of my skin that have never felt breezes before. I wade into the actual water, a turquoise sea that is partitioned off so people sex club jamaica nearby resorts can't make marathon snorkeling treks over to gawk. A little yellow plastic island floats toward a deeper end, so I swim out to it and then climb up. I lie on my back in the sun like a cat, or maybe a seal, in view of the entire resort or any low-circling airplanes. It's a kind of peace and relief I didn't know I could feel.
Jamaica swingers clubs & sex clubs
My deck also offers a private hot tub, and I'm sitting in the bubbling water alone watching the sunset with a champagne flute when a muscular man and his penis walk by. I'm admiring it when he pivots toward me and asks if I would like to get dinner with him and his girl tonight? A bemused "sure" falls out of my drowsy, sunburned face. What the hell have I just done? I lie on my back naked in the sun in view of the entire resort. Dressed and wearing what I think is the right amount of makeup for Jamaican humidity, I head to our meeting spot at the sex club jamaica, where a woman in a boy wig and a dress cut to her belly button comes up to me immediately and says my name.
It's my date! We head to the Italian restaurant on the property and settle in. Come here often? The couple tells me some things. They met while in a threesome—he was dating her friend and she sex club jamaica him away but all three people are cool now! They've been together for eight years but aren't in any rush to get married.
He has a school-aged daughter from a relationship, she has a son in law school.
They've been to Hedonism a few times, not so much for the swinging but for the thrill of public sex and nudity. They ask me about my romantic life and career, and are more engaged in my answers than most dates I've ever had. I feel extremely comfortable with these middle-aged people. They ask what I want out of the trip, and I tell them sex club jamaica my quest to find out if I'm a naked person, how I feel very comfortable being naked thus far.
They agree: "That's why we asked you to dinner. We really admired your confidence on the beach. And your pubic hair situation. At the end of the meal, I feel those nerves that I get at the end of any first date. How do I end this and is the person going to kiss me and do I want them to? But the couple announces they are going back to their room to fuck.
It's casual, like someone begging off because they're tired. Black sex club jamaica are lit and glow sticks are distributed and I take off my dress and dance around sans any creepers. This is fun. My dinner companions fly home the next morning, which is kind of a relief.
Were we going to be buddies at the buffet every sex club jamaica I wake up feeling like the college party girl I never quite was, with glow-in-the-dark necklaces and blinking rings in my sheets and empty strawberry-scented glasses on my nightstand. Everything hurts. I consider stand-up paddle boarding but that seems like a huge effort, so I embark on my other goals for the trip: reading for hours without interruption or responsibility, and taking a nap…naked…in public…in a foreign country.
I figure it's the most vulnerable a human woman can possibly be. After a morning spent reading and snoozing and reading and snoozing, I realize that some of the other women here have even better ideas—I observe two separate women receiving cunnilingus. One couple is on a lounge chair about three over from mine, the sex club jamaica kneeling in the sand to do the damn thing. With the other pair, the woman is truly aspirational: She floats on a pool raft in the shallow sea, naked facing the sun, while a guy stands in the water in front of her going to work.
They have to stop because the small waves keep smacking him in the face, making his task a bit dangerous, but what a hero! The woman, I mean. Do they want me to watch? They must.
So I do, behind my sunglasses. I sex club jamaica back up to my patio for some water to find that my next-door neighbors are having sex on theirs, maybe 18 inches from my door. They're standing in their hot tub, with the woman bent over the edge. It's kind of like hearing your roommates have sex but worse because you can see them and hear their conversation when they discuss whether or not to stop because she's a little sore from last night.
At dinner, I receive no invites from well-hung couples, but a hostess for the Japanese restaurant on the property automatically seats me with two lesbian couples.