It was Wednesday, day five out of seven at Hedo. Pardon the grossness of this statement, but I think it sums up our sentiment: it was time to shit or get off the pot.
Upon arrival at the resort, we were given a little itinerary of the events for the week. Most all-inclusives offer such a list of activities; Hedo is unique in that the activities included classes on blowjobs and sexual massage along with your standard beach yoga. We placed the itinerary card in a prominent spot on the long, shiny white dresser in our room, thinking…maybe.
We happened to be at Hedo during one of the “Tantric Hearts” weeks. At Hedo, there are several “groups” that schedule visits for each week, allowing you to book through them with a travel agent as an alternative to booking through the resort. Usually the groups offer some additional perks or at least a set group to hang with. The Tantric Hearts group is really more of an event to sign up for, but you didn’t have to be a part of their group to attend their events.
The events run by Tantric Hearts are really classes run by real-life couple Kim and Brad Walker. Apparently Kim is a former hypnotist and also has a science background; Brad is a former massage therapist. For many years now, they’ve been coming to Hedo several times a year and offering their classes for all guests. They also do workshops on Bliss Cruise line and make videos and have an email list. Their official title on most things online seems to be “International Tantra Sex Educators.”
We didn’t know if the classes would be boring, with lots of lecture and discussion, or over-the-top sexual…did you actually give a blowjob during the blowjob class?
Of course, we didn’t know all this at the time. We just knew what we knew from the little itinerary card. We didn’t know if the classes would be boring, with lots of lecture and discussion, or over-the-top sexual…did you actually give a blowjob during the blowjob class? Hedo offered sensual massages, which aren’t exactly a happy-ending scenario…but still, you’re naked (for the massage and the class). What, exactly, would be “required” of the students in the class?
The classes were offered every day, Sunday through Friday, at exactly 3:33pm. Typically, we’re neck-deep in the pool at that time, so we put the idea on the back burner for the first part of our week. But Kim and Brad are excellent at marketing, and they mingle with the regular guests to drum up excitement for their workshops. We saw them everywhere around the resort. He’s a standard looking guy, average height, with dark hair and a friendly face. He’s clearly the extrovert in their relationship. Kim has a great figure and hair that defies the Jamaican humidity. She’s the type whose exterior highlights her calm inner beauty. Kim and Brad are both older than us, maybe in their late forties? It’s hard to tell, because they’re the type of people whose good mental and physical health clearly keep them feeling and looking young. We noticed them each night at dinner, greeting other guests and always sitting with a group. There were always smiles on their faces and lots of laughter coming from their table.
That said, we tried to avoid them at first, not sure about the workshops and not wanting to get sucked into something that we weren’t comfortable with. But when Brad came up and introduced himself to us at the nude pool bar on Tuesday morning, good vibes ensued. He was affable and relatable, honest and open. He spoke highly and lovingly of his wife, and he was clearly passionate about their interesting career. Our interest in the workshops piqued.
We were still a little unclear about what might actually happen during the workshop. Public sex is allowed at Hedo, so there was no reason for us to think that it might not be allowed in the workshop. We’d be nude during the class, that we now knew for sure from our conversation with Brad, but that was par for the course at Hedo, too, and it was something that we’d become accustomed to since our arrival. Brad assured us that we would never have to do anything that we weren’t comfortable doing, and he also made the experience sound fun, valuable, and casual.
Jack and I talked; it’s what we do best, and it’s why we’re so good at sex. We are particularly exceptional at sexual communication; growing our sex lives together made us extremely open and wiling to take chances with one another. I expressed my concerns at doing sexual things in front of others; I fantasize about mild exhibitionism but am timid about an actual performance. Jack is an extrovert and wouldn’t mind showing off in front of others, sexually or otherwise, but was concerned about being placed in a weird situation. However, we had both felt comfortable with Brad, and Kim seemed nice, too. Jack is a great judge of people, and he gave them the green light. I was curious. He was curious. We came to Hedo to explore, we reasoned, so why not try something new and see what happens?
We came to Hedo to explore, we reasoned, so why not try something new and see what happens?
It was now or never. We’d already missed Sunday’s “Drive You Wild With Desire: Erotic Hypnosis and Sensual Play,” Monday’s “Goddess Spot and Happy Clit Massage,” and Tuesday’s “Charm His Snake: Multiple Male O’s.” Thursday and Friday focused on stuff that sounded a little more boring to us — striptease and something about Kama Sutra “secrets,” plus we hated to spend any part of our last full day indoors at a workshop. On the agenda for Wednesday: “Gushing Goddess Playshop: Female Ejaculation.” Whelp. It sounded like a lot of the attention would be on the female half the relationship, so I braced myself.
By braced myself, I mean I smoked a significant amount of the local ganja and had a number of drinks. Jack joined me on my inebriated journey. We were not going into this experience sober…if college taught me one thing, it’s that sexual nerves can be calmed with plenty of substance abuse. To be fair, we did make the decision to attend while sober. We just needed some liquid and plant-based courage to make the journey.
I’d certainly ejaculated before. Pre-intercourse days, it was my main way of getting off in the back of Jack’s SUV. He would finger me like crazy and I would go nuts, soaking the blankets we kept in the back “for emergencies.” Once we started having actual intercourse, we engaged in fingering a bit less. I would say we really got out of the habit during my four pregnancies, and then we just never really picked it up again. It was nearly a decade old memory by the time we found ourselves stumbling to the Kama Sutra Palace at Hedo.
The “Palace” was really just a standard looking building set back by the tennis courts at the back of the resort. We entered first into a small lobby that led to a hallway of benches and lockers for personal belongings. Along the hall were some small rooms with massage tables, but empty at the time, and some spa-like bathrooms. The itinerary said to bring a pillow and a towel. Being on the nude side of the resort, clothing was not an option, so naturally we were naked. We left our sandals in a locker and proceeded into the big room.
We entered the main room. It resembled a gymnasium, but slightly smaller, with hardwood floors and without any windows. The lights were low and soft, accented with red, orange, and pink silks crisscrossed along the ceiling and walls. The air was scented and soft music was playing. But our eyes landed first and foremost on the ten full sized mattresses arranged in a semi-circle on the floor around a massage table draped in white sheets.
Kim and Brad were standing, smiling and naked, at the massage table in the front. They cordially welcomed everyone and directed us to get comfy on a mattress as we entered. We played it cool, like we attend tantric classes in the nude all the time, as we strolled over to the mattress to the right of our instructors. A few other couples were already waiting on their mattresses, some lounging and whispering jovially to each other and others sitting straight up in a crossed legged position, their stiff backs a testament to their nerves.
Each mattress was covered with a clean white sheet and a couple extra towels. A hand mirror, a small blank slip of paper, a pen, and a comment card were arranged together at the top corner of the mattresses. Jack sat so that I could spoon up into his body, my body exposed but his bits covered. I made eye contact with the woman next to me and we shared a nervous giggle. She reassuringly stated, “We took their class yesterday and it was amazing!” Across the room were “Ashley” and “Sam” — the couple that we’d first noticed on the plane ride down to Jamaica. We waved at each other with big nervous grins.
Nearly all ten mattresses were occupied by the time Kim started class. Meanwhile, Brad passed out a little jar of coconut oil to each couple. I exchanged a glance with Jack…so…we’re going to need lube? Oh boy.
Kim directed us to go around the room and introduce ourselves. We’d seen several of these couples around the resort already, but some were new to us. We were a diverse group, some couples married and others just dating, some older and some younger, some thin and fit and others overweight. Everyone seemed friendly and open, of course…I imagine it would be hard to attend a tantric class and be a snob about it. There was no room for judgement there.
There was also no room for backing out at this point. We’d made eye contact. We’d given our names. We’d even raised our hands when Kim asked who had actually ever experienced a squirting G-spot orgasm before. I had no idea exactly what I’d signed up for here, but I was pretty sure that I was now in deep enough that it would be more embarrassing for me to up and run than it would to stay. We were committed to finding our boundaries, and pushing them.
We were committed to finding our boundaries, and pushing them.
Kim and Brad were standing up at the front of the room, giving some of the run down on the session without really telling us what we’d be doing, precisely. They were smiling, friendly, fully nude teachers, trying to put us all at ease. Our first task was to write down “our intention” in attending the workshop on the small papers. We whispered with each other and quickly jotted down something like “exploring and enjoying each other.” Per her instructions, I folded the paper until it was a little ball. Kim’s gorgeous, perky breasts probably distracted Jack from everything coming out of her mouth, because he seemed surprised when all the other guys started standing up and following Brad out of the room. The women were instructed to stay.
Once the guys were gone, Kim giggled and made a few jokes about Brad. “Oh, he’s going to go talk their ears off while we have some fun,” she gushed. An hour or so later, when the session was over, Jack confirmed that this was the case. Brad instructed them for about two minutes on how to get a woman off by caressing her G-spot, and then they chit-chatted while crammed in the small lobby all together — a bunch of nude dudes trying to share only a few couches and a cooler acting as a makeshift bench.
Kim stayed in the front of the room, directing our attention to an easel where she propped up a poster-sized visual of the female anatomy. She explained where the G-spot was located, and how many different types of orgasms women can actually have. The clit is important, obviously, and while today’s lesson was about the G-spot, it helps to get turned on clitorally first.
She spoke about female ejaculate, detailing how she confirmed that it wasn’t urine: she collected a sample from herself and took it to a lab to verify. Too many women, she said, are afraid to ejaculate because it feels like they’re urinating. In reality, while “squirting” does contain a small amount of diluted urine, female ejaculate is totally different. It doesn’t smell like urine at all, and it comes from a different place. Most women have the right equipment to make it happen, but it can take some know-how and practice.
Just when we were all zoning a bit from information overload, Kim walked over to a counter along the wall and put on some very spiritual, voodoo sounding music. She brought a candle to the middle of the room. The other women and I exchanged glances. What kind of ceremony was this? What did this have to do with anything? Kim urged us all up off our mattresses, gathering us in a circle around the candle with our little intention papers. We took turns burning our papers in the candle’s flame, followed by some hand holding and something akin to a prayer or meditation. Kim’s hypnotist background was showing, and I have to say, it was working.
And then Kim turned up the music, which had more of a beat now. “Let’s bring out our inner goddesses!” Kim exclaimed, moving her hips to the music and inviting us to do the same.
Now, I’m a small woman, so I can’t drink or smoke much all at once — if I do, I’ll either pass out or get sick or both. It works better for me to imbibe slowly and steadily, keeping a constant buzz when I’m in the mood to be a little drunk. And by this point, unfortunately, my liquid courage was starting to wane. Also unfortunately, I am not nearly as good at impromptu dancing when in any state of sober. But I’ll give myself credit — I took a deep breath, let the open-mindedness of marijuana and music overtake me, and decided to embrace whatever crazy opportunity this may be. I started dancing. So did everyone else.
Kim offered some instruction on what to do. We all took turns dancing with each woman, back to back, while facing another woman. It was silly, and there was a lot of giggling. We all felt pretty stupid, but of course that was exactly what Kim intended. With no guys watching us, we were free to just be silly. Our butts jiggled, our breasts swayed, and we danced to weird music, naked, on the precipice of something involving a hand mirror, coconut oil, and our G-spots.
The music began to fade out, and Kim wondered aloud about the guys. Everyone call out, “Oh, boyyyyyys!” she instructed. “Giggle loudly — that’ll get them in here quick!” She burst open the door and did a little booby shake directed towards the lobby. Brad led the men back into the room, and our tantric sex educators directed us back to our mattresses. Jack and I exchanged a look — what did you just do, and what exactly are we doing next?
There was more instruction, a brief repeat of the anatomy and how to stimulate the G-spot. Then, Kim climbed up on the massage table in the front of the room, rubbing her clit. Brad explained to the guys what he was doing as he put two fingers inside of Kim’s vagina. Her legs were apart, with her feet touching, a yoga pose known as “reclining goddess.” Within what seemed like mere moments, she moaned (as she explained to us earlier, that helps you orgasm) and squirted. From my vantage point on the floor, near her head more than her feet, I couldn’t quite see it, but I could hear it. And I could hear her.
Well, then. Suddenly things were getting interesting, and intense. Kim laughed, Brad smiled, and they demonstrated right there that it was possible to do this multiple times in a row. What was going to be my role in this class? Could I do that? Kim made it seem natural. One thing was leading to another…
The women were encouraged to sit in front of their husbands, the men acting as chairs for their ladies. With Jack behind me, I reclined and began to follow the directions, good student that I am. The other women did the same, curled into their men’s bodies, too.
I glanced around one more time, noting that everyone was consenting, with a loving partner, a bit nervous but also intrigued by Kim’s performance. If she could do that…well…it looked like she quite enjoyed it. Leaning into my husband’s body, I was reminded of birthing class, and then of giving birth. I had given birth four times to a room full of strangers, and it was joyous. It was natural. I wasn’t going to see these people ever again, and the room was filled with an aura of acceptance and a titillating sexual tension. We were in this together, and it wasn’t as unnatural as it surely sounds from an outsider’s perspective.
It was time to focus. I shut out the rest of the room and let Kim’s voice guide me through the rest of class. I allowed my body and my sexual energy to overtake me, and I pushed my thinking mind aside. I was safe. I was sensual, all feeling.
I allowed my body and my sexual energy to overtake me, and I pushed my thinking mind aside. I was safe. I was sensual, all feeling.
I took hold of the hand mirror and held it between my legs. Jack had a great view, too, and honestly it had been awhile since I really looked at my labia and its insides this closely. They looked…well, like mine. A part of me, albeit one that I don’t get a daily visual on. Jack’s seen it a million times, but he held me and whispered to me while we explored.
I put some coconut oil on my fingers and pulled my labia apart, examining inside. I put one finger into my vagina, crooking my finger to feel for the fleshy bump on the inside. I caressed it gently. I put in another finger. I followed all the instructions. I let Jack gently rub my clit while I pressed on the spot, massaging. Kim described the feeling — when you start to feel really good, on the verge of something — relax your muscles, but push like you’re going to push out some pee. I closed my eyes, relaxed, and pushed. I felt the warm moisture ooze between my legs.
I had done it. I was an amazing student, and now I was hungry for more. Peeking around the room, I wasn’t the only one. Kim and Brad offered a few reassuring words here and a few tips there as they walked around the room, monitoring their students’ progress, just as I do when I’m teaching my own students at home. I teach quite a different subject, though.
I laid back on the mattress, letting Jack rest alongside me, his body a shield to the rest of the room. His hand moved from my clit to inside my vagina, his fingers now the ones stroking that special spot. I let a quiet moan escape as I orgasmed again, liquid gushing. We’d done this before, but it had been some time. Jack couldn’t have looked any more proud. We quietly whispered and giggled with our heads close together on the mattress. I was spent, for now.
We let our eyes gently wander around the room. There were several couples just holding each other, whispering, kissing, watching. Others were still in the midst of their own exploration. We all waited patiently. With my breathing returning to normal, I began to hear the sounds in the room again. The quiet, spiritual music was accented with the sounds of low moaning from a few of the women who were still finishing their work.
Ashley was up on her knees, her boyfriend behind her, steadying her as she leaned forward, one hand steadying herself on the mattress while the other hand worked between her legs. Her moans grew louder and frantic as she orgasmed, minutes passing, her breathing turning to panting until she finished, falling back in her lover’s arms. She laughed, glancing around the room, a little sheepish yet proud, too. “I’ve never done that before! Wow!” she announced, and we all smiled and laughed with her. Kim beamed from her perch on the massage table.
Brad officially ended class, and we all rushed towards the bathrooms to clean up. The ladies room was abuzz with excitement. One woman couldn’t do it there, but was eager to go back to her room and give it a try in private. Another woman had a medical condition that made it difficult to orgasm that way, but she’d had fun nonetheless. Several women were eager to attend another class with Kim and Brad, and their conversation centered around tomorrow’s topic.
Those of us that had orgasmed were flushed, happy, and feeling a little amazed at our experience. There was an aura of camaraderie, relief, and excitement in the air. Sex was not just normalized in the environment of the workshop, it was educational and it was celebrated. It had been beautiful and uplifting, whether or not orgasm was reached. It had been quite the tantric experience for all of us, sensual and unexpected.
Me? I was astonished that I’d actually gone through with all that I had — I’d orgasmed in public! I hadn’t done anything like that since college. I’d also had an amazing orgasm, different than my typical day-to-day orgasms. I craved more. I was feeling bold, confident, and sexy. I was empowered.
Jack felt the same. As we burst out the doors of the palace into the hot Jamaican sun, we looked at each other in awe. “Back to the room?” Jack asked, hopefully, longingly. Oh yes.
He fingered me for about two more hours. I must have had thirty orgasms that day (yes, thirty), and Jack’s forearm throbbed by the time we were done. We were fueled by new techniques (relax and then push!) and the insanely arousing act of public sex (his fantasy, nearly fulfilled). The class was over, but this was the beginning of something big.
