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This Is Part 2 Of A Story About A Trip I Took To Hedonism. The First Part Is On Here Somewhere.

Our first night at Hedonism we had been exhausted from travel,
and had gone to bed early, tonight after a full day on the nude
beach and two pretty fulfilling tangles of the romantic type, we
weren't sure if we were ready for the evening or not. The nap
had helped - but the sun had drained us pretty good.

We dressed - simple shorts and tees and set off to the communal
area at the center of the resort. We hadn't made plans with our
new friends figuring we'd see them at dinner, and when we got to
the restaurant we looked around and they were nowhere to found.
After another filling but unremarkable meal we had a few
leisurely drinks under the stars.

There were some fun people and we made small talk, but by 9:30,
both John and I were nodding off again. We decided to again head
home figuring that we would acclimate and perhaps make a night of
it the next evening. We went back to the room and undressed, and
we were in bed and fast asleep before 10PM.

We were in danger of being fuddy-duddies, we knew. No one goes to
bed at 9:30 at Hedonism - at least to sleep. We narrowly
escaped that fate, as soon enough our friends were knocking on
the door and would not take no for an answer until we let them
in. (I let them in - John was still groggy on the bed wondering
what the hell was going on.)

"It's time for the naughty nightie party" Dan explained. "You'll
have to change - that probably won't be good enough." I looked
down at myself and realized I was in the same style of bed
clothing I had warn since I was 9 - a loose tee shirt over
panties - and the shirt in this case was none too long. (John
had tried to get me to wear something nicer to bed since our
marriage - but I had so far resisted.) John and I both asked
"Naughty nightie party???" There was just so much we were
unaware of.

I realized for the first time that I wasn't the only one in my
underwear. Dan was wearing and incredibly tight pair of black
silk underwear and an aqua-blue tee emblazoned with the words "I
had sex with Fred and Wilma."

Liz, who had crawled on the bed and was currently playing
peek-a-boo with John and his bed covers, was wearing a very thin
and see-thru baby-doll and matching black mesh underpants that
were so transparent that literally no part of her bottom, nor any
part of her shaved vagina, were left to the imagination as she
bent over my husband.

Both looked like they were perfectly suited for bedtime in *****
land.

John made a valiant attempt at trying to plead his way out of it,
but something about having this lovely young woman pulling at his
covers finally coaxed him into action. For my part, I found
myself once again embarrassed for being in the presence of
partial nudity with people I'd spent all day completely naked
with. Anything that would break the tension of having these two
waving their body parts around in my bedroom I was up for, so I
gave in and agreed.

Little did I know that this would be a case of out of the frying
pan and into the fire. We were in for the kind of party that
night of the kind they show on the movies but you never believed
anyone really went to. We put ourselves in their hands and we
were definitely inappropriately touched.

John emerged from bed in the tightie-whitey dad style underwear
that he always wore. Not unflattering since he kept himself fit,
but hardly in the same league as Dan's black man panties. He
had no pajamas of any kind with him naughty or otherwise. While I
had some nice panties and bras with me, I hadn't packed my
lingerie as I had dreaded the idea of some tin-badged immigration
cop going through my luggage on my trip in and out of the
country. Standing next to Liz I looked like a church lady, even
though I was wearing silk red panties. We pointed out our lack
of wardrobe and the couple grabbed our key and our hands and
dragged us across to their room in our undies.

Liz told Dan to see if he had any solution for John, and grabbed
some silky things and dragged me into the bathroom. While I was
being ******** down and refitted into a very low cut baby blue
spaghetti strapped silk top and matching tap pants, I heard John
and Dan ruffle around through the laundry and discuss and dismiss
various clothing items I couldn't see.

I thought I looked pretty stunning in my newly acquired night
clothing, but Liz pronounced it boring. She jerked down my pants
then her own and we quickly exchanged bottoms.

That her top matched my bottoms and vice-versa was an inspiration
to be sure. The effect was that of two lovely lesbians being a
bit careless after an amorous evening together. She handed me a
tube of obscenely pink lipstick and had me put it on, and
freshened up her similarly loud red painted lips with a triple
thick coat, then quickly bent down and kissed me heavily once on
my breast and again on my tummy, leaving a heavy lipstick marking
in both places.

I won't lie. It sent a bit of a shiver down my back.

"Now you" she said.

I looked at her thin veil of a top and it was obvious that
lipstick would never stick to the thin lacey material, and
quickly pulled it up over my head and put a few similar lipstick
stains on one of her large breasts, then opened my mouth and
created a big "O" impression around a silver dollar sized nipple.


For once I think I surprised her, because she grabbed my head in
surprise and pushed it down and away from her chest. I was into
the spirit of this, and actually nipped her nipple as I was
pushed out of here bosom. Just to really mess with her head, I
also bent down and kissed her once more just north of her panty
line before I backed away laughing.

We looked stunning, and Liz pronounced us both suitably naughty.
Exiting the bathroom, John still had no clear alternative, though
he had managed to fit on a tee shirt of Dan's that had the word
"****" printed in a number of languages. Given that we were
without patience, both Liz and I simply dropped to our knees and
put lipstick stains on the front of John's undies. Once we have
a dozen or so impressions, Liz leaned over and put one squarely
on the rear check of Dan's black underwear as well.

I was having a great time playing dress-up - especially
considering just an hour before I had been sound asleep and had
been just a bit grumpy when the pair had invaded our hotel room.
I looked at my husband and saw a look on his face somewhere
between amusement and panic. It reminded me that I had lived a
pretty wild life in my past, but my husband had a much more
conservative upbringing and life experience. Part of me vowed to
make sure I kept his unease in check so that he had a good time
and didn't freak out. Another part of me said that this was
probably good for him and that he needed to lighten up a bit.
(In the end, it wouldn't matter. I had very little control of the
evening - or pretty much the rest of the trip - and we were both
swept away with the debauchery of things.)

John went across to our room and put on a pair of slippers that
he took with him everywhere - and for some reason I could tell
that this touch of home made him somehow more comfortable with
all of this. Dan slipped on his flip-flops and for Liz and me it
was a pair of pumps each. Then we were off to the party.

How to describe the part atmosphere that evening? It's
practically impossible so much went on, and after a while I was
so drunk I'm not sure I remember some of the bits and pieces
through the fog of tequila shots.

What I do remember is that when we got to the bar holding the
event, there were bouncers outside inspecting everyone and
turning away those that hadn't dressed for the occasion. (I was
actually surprised by this. Hedonism was an all-inclusive, but
you have to earn your way into this party.)

We were dressed more provocatively than most, but for good
measure when it was our turn for inspection Liz and I spun around
and gave them the full view of our meager costumes, each taking
the time to show both front and rear view while our husbands
stood by in amusement. There were good natured whistles and cat
calls of approval from others waiting in line behind us, a smile
of admiration from the rather large black men that were
inspecting our merchandise, and we were waved inside.

The bar itself was like something from a movie. Filled with
noise, flashing lights and moving bodies it was practically
impossible to focus on any one person or thing for a while. It
was the first time I had ever seen real lasers on a dance floor
(I was from Iowa after all) and they bounced off mirrors, liquor
bottles and anything else. We were quickly doing the same as the
bodies of those around us started moving to a new song, and we
were quickly sucked into the throng of dancing revelers.

John has always been more of a voyeur than a joiner in such
things, and quickly made his way toward the bar. He took a long
look at the throng of half-naked bodies and pronounced his need
for a drink. We were all soon shooting cheap tequila.

A heavy glass window behind the bar looked out into the pool.
The other side of the window was actually underwater in the pool,
and you could see swimmers like something from an Aquarium. On
frequent occasions swimmers male and female flocked to the window
and dropped their suit bottoms to moon the party crowd or worse.
One woman spread herself so far open and pushed her genitalia to
the glass with such force that someone joked she might get stuck
like a suction cup. The bartender - an older black man who
looked like Morgan Freedman left too long in the sun - sighed and
lamented that he wished he had got paid for all gynecologist work
he was subjected to.

We watched the crowd for a while, which was educational. We saw
a lot of faces that we hadn't seen that day on the beach. This
included what looked to be a whole house of sorority sisters in
Victoria Secrets store-bought lingerie and an accompanying herd
of unaccompanied males that the barkeeps referred to collectively
as "Vinnies." We had no idea that they let college kids into
Hedo - and when we asked later we were told that the management
rather discouraged it, but there was no strict policy and on
occasion a busload arrived at their gates. The crowd ranged from
young 20's to a few who might have been in their 60's, and
everyone was having a good time.

It was not a surprise when one couple began to have actual sex in
a corner of the dance floor. (She was wearing no underwear under
a short nightgown and it was just that kind of a crowd.) What
was a surprise was how fast bouncers surrounded them and removed
them from the party. They were back a short time later, but you
could tell they had been warned that there were some lines you
didn't cross in the bar area. When a later incident happened,
that couple was tossed out and we never saw them again that
evening.

The "no sex" rule didn't stop hands from diving into panties and
underwear or breasts from falling out or simply being freed from
tight bras or loose night gowns. Couples who had been given
their little wristbands left in pairs and came back minutes or
hours later, looking either freshly ****** or ****** up. One
middle aged woman disappeared three times over the course of the
evening with three different Vinnies.

Our little group danced and drank and played grab *** a lot, and
we drew appreciative glances from onlookers. Our lipstick stains
were in a color that glowed under the prevalent black lights, and
our mix and match panties and top look brought chuckles and
leers. John has never been much of a fast dancer person (he is
good with the slow stuff) and Dan wasn't enthusiastic either, so
Liz and I danced together.

The panties I was wearing -the ones that looked so positively
see-thru und obscene on Liz, were no less revealing on me - and
my blonde pubic hair tended to catch the black-light and glow.
Also glowing was the lipstick "o" that I had placed on Liz's
nipple and both of our lips matched glowing lipstick stains on
the others body. We must have looked like a lesbian couple fresh
from the **** of the century.

One of the sorority sisters - one who was noticeably less
provocatively dressed than the others and who looked a good 3
years younger - wondered up to us and started dancing beside us.
We were all about having fun with others so she became part of
our little dance team. As she started being more bold in her
dancing Liz and I played along and when a slow song came we
actually made a three way slow dance group. When the decibels of
music were momentarily low enough, she shouted about how pretty
we were, introduced herself and ask what we were doing later.
The music got louder again before we could respond.

We were all drinking heavily so eventually I made a trip to the
bathroom which was, I was actually glad to see, NOT being used by
multiple couples as a makeshift hookup operation. When I
returned Liz and the sorority girl has been joined by Dan and
John who were all on the dance floor in a big knot with 8 ounce
glasses of pure tequila and a 12 ounce glasses of orange juice.
We made "mix in your mouth" drinks as we danced the night away,
laughing like fools and living like there was no tomorrow.

Eventually, it became obvious my husband was wasted. He was
falling off his barstool, so Dan and Liz helped me carry him back
to the room.

John was a mess - worse than I had ever seen him - so we took him
to the room and deposited him in bed. He was passed out before
he hit the mattress. I took a minute to remove Dan's shirt from
his drunken frame before tucking him in for the night.

We played a few games with John, taking a few pictures of him in
such a sorry state. We got a great shot of him sleeping with a
rack on either ear, and another with Liz's hairless **** just
inches off his hairline. But I didn't know how much John would
enjoy that kind of shenanigans so we didn't go far.

I finally drew the line that we should let him sleep, so Dan
asked if I'd like to come over to their room for a goodnight
joint. An end-of-evening smoke to take the edge off sounded
good, so I grabbed a key, left a note and followed them out the
door.

Once we were safely in their room, Dan went to work rolling up a
joint and Liz and I retired to the bathroom to wash away some of
the accumulated sweat. I gave her Dan's shirt, and then realized
everything I was wearing belonged to them as well. I figured
what the hell and took it all off and handed it back lest I
forget later. I looked around for my tee and panties that I'd
worn over to their room but had no idea where they were.

Liz left her lingerie on, just kicking off the heels and we left
the bathroom to find that Dan had found a friend in our absence.
To this day I don't know which of the two did it, but our little
sorority girl had their room number and had found her way to
their room. She was sitting on the bed next to Dan preparing to
spark up.

The sorority girl - her name was Karen - did a double take when I
entered the room naked. I was amused to find that Dan had also
dropped everything as well, so we were 50% naked and 50% lingerie
as a group. Karen was having trouble figuring out where to focus
her eyes.

As for my own eyes, I was actually getting my first good look at
Karen outside the bar. Small of frame and almost boyish in
build, she looked rather awkward in a baby doll nightgown that
would have looked at home on a 4 year old. It was not the least
bit sexy and my guess was that had she not been with the group of
sorority sisters she would have been denied entry to the bar.
It was only when she stood in the light that the threadbare
quality of her nightie became apparent along with the rip - which
looked accidental - that made it clear there were either no
underwear underneath that made the clothing provocative at all.

We had all been drinking and we were all naked or nearly, and
adding a layer of pot on top seemed to simultaneously mellow us
out and kick us into another gear at the same time. I made a
place for myself on a chair while the three of them sat back on
the bed using the backboard as a backrest, Dan in the center with
a girl on either side.

There was discussion of going into the hot tub, but it was close
to 4 in the morning and while that shouldn't have been a factor,
it tabled the plan. We talked about calling it a night, but
neither Karen nor I stood up to leave, both of us in a bit of a
daze and slumped into our position.

I don't know what was happening when I realized that Liz had Dan
in her hand and was playing with his **** and that Dan had his
arm around Karen and was feeling her small breast through the
soft flannel material, but as Dan became erect it quickly became
obvious where this evening was heading.

At some point, Karen actually lowered herself down and took Dan
in her mouth - a surprise since I'd have bet my money that her
attraction was either Liz or I (or both.) While the two of them
moved to a more comfortable position I found myself a bit freaked
and almost unconsciously quietly stood up to leave. Liz followed
me to the door and walked behind me reaching around me to hold me
from behind in a kind of hug. She asked me not to leave and with
a kiss on the back of my neck let me know that perhaps pairing
off was the plan
rather than a Dan sandwich.

I wanted to leave and I didn't. I didn't want to seem like a
prude, didn't feel comfortable playing voyeur, but wasn't sure I
was ready for the grande finale Liz had planned. She spun me
around and the next kiss she planted was on the lips, and we held
it for longer than I had planned. When I opened my eyes I saw
that both Dan and Karen were watching from the bed - she having
moved from sucking his **** to sitting on it during the small
time that Liz and I had been indisposed.

It was an amazing image that one. One I can still remember
vividly to this day. Karen was small and Dan was big - and I
could plainly see her open sex impaled on him as perhaps 3 inches
of him still was not inside her although she appeared to be on
him with her full weight. Liz began to pull me to the bed, which
again brought up the idea that this might be all about Dan which
I didn't think John would appreciate at all.

I pulled myself away, telling them that I was just too tired
though my voice probably said I was too scared. In truth I
feared John's reaction more than anything else.

I left the condo and made my way naked across the manicured lawn
to my own. Crawling in bed with my thoroughly passed out husband
I felt confused and intoxicated. For the first time in a long
time I *********** out of frustration rather than for recreation
and fell asleep sometime that couldn't have been much before
dawn.

We woke up around noon. John first, making his way to the
bathroom where the sound alone told me that his stomach was
having a bad morning. He made his way back to bed looking green
and in misery.

Though I didn't throw up, I didn't feel much better. We were
both hung over and badly dehydrated.

John was just in horrible pain, but wouldn't take any aspirin as
he feared the water from the taps. We'd drank every liquid in the
room the night before, so I slipped on some shorts and tee and
made my way to the small stand that was near our room and across
from the nude beach. I got bottled water and some crackers,
scanning the beach to see if Dan and Liz were there, though
neither was to be found.

When I came back, there was an envelope stuck in the door jam
with a note inside from the couple. They explained that they had
enjoyed our company, hoped we had survived the evening, and
apologized but really had never been much for long goodbyes.

I noticed that there was no address, phone number, email address
or any other invitation to contact them later, and I took it
personally for a bit as I believed my actions the night before
had insulted them. Through the perspective of time, though, I've
realized they just probably wanted to let what happened in
Jamaica stay there.
TwylaMarie TwylaMarie 41-45, F 7 Responses Sep 19, 2012

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One word. Wow.

sounds like fun. I have always wanted to go to Hedonism but wife isn't that open, even to observing.

Been there done that, hedonism 1994 , had a great time with a cpl of gals from chicago.

This was truly an awesome story!
Thanks, Shane

when's your next trip? Don't let Dan get wasted next time.

It's been a while. I'm going to have to start doing this again.

More great memories and writing from Twyla! Thanks