This is Ria, along with husband Jim, sharing more about our adventures as members of the GHH Club. Our journey to membership and the club itself is complicated, so you might want to read, or at least skim, 'What is the GHH Club? Ep. 01'
In a nutshell, we are six married couples that meet monthly in a dedicated wing of a very rich guy's estate. The big picture goal is adding sexual excitement to marriage. The method is acting out personal fantasies. The club's GHH stands for Go Home Hot, meaning that we can be bold and creative adventurers, but penetration intercourse is reserved for the spouse. This rule and a well-defined set of member understandings are part of club culture. The reason probably traces to the mindset of Roger (estate owner) and Gary (right-hand man) as incredibly successful dot com entrepreneurs.
When Episode 1 ends, we are three-month members who have gone home hot after every meeting, partly because the atmosphere is fun, friendly, and open to wearing sexy outfits and discussing sexual ideas. Alcohol is part of party relaxation, but club culture frowns on sloppy drunk or being out-of-control high on anything. Fantasies are acted out in eight rooms with theme props, and a double-sized room that is furnished in gymnastic mat green. A fantasy's originator recruits the cast, often the spouse and one or more members. Any non-participating spouse must be aware of and approve the role of the partner. And the originator can decide whether the fantasy is closed or open, meaning whether observers are welcome or not.
Like most early-stage members, Jim and I had enjoyed the party atmosphere and we realized we were among exceptional people who were selected because they were the kind of people that fit. But we hadn't felt ready to originate fantasies, so we went home hot because of observing the fantasy-play of our veterans. Episode 1 describes two of our favorites, one of which brings me to the start of this episode. Here's a shortened summary:
It was a 'production' fantasy, in GHH terms, meaning it told a story with costumes, props and in this case music. The originator was Christopher, our most studious looking guy, and Christopher watched from the spectator row, two seats down from Jim and me. I guess that makes it a cuckold fantasy -- which Jim and I aren't really into -- but I didn't care about that part, at all. Christopher's wife, Pamela, is a classically beautiful blonde with a body made for modern dancing. Her skirt was short, loose-fitting and worn-looking, with several vertical slits, making her look something like the ragamuffin characters in a poor-person's street dance. Her top was bra-like, and worn-looking to match the costume, but her panties were very modern, white and barely there.
Here's the fantasy's story: She has written and choreographed an original modern dance number and is previewing it for her dance instructor. The dance instructor is played by Douglas, the male half of GHH's only black couple, about 6'4", lean and muscular, awesome smile. He is dressed in black, a chest-hugging sports shirt and yoga pants. He sits in a chair near the mat, observing, taking notes, as she does the most amazing job I could even imagine of finding revealing, highly sexual positions. Her skirt provides no coverage at all. And she had created two moments in which the dance's story requires temporarily bare breasts.
Her instructor's expression gradually shifts from professionally studious to clearly engaged in his student's physical performance. She finishes the dance and looks toward him expectantly. He approaches her, congratulates her warmly, and says he has suggestions for improvement. He then works from behind her using his hands to adjust her body positions. His hands grow more aggressive, moving beyond any serious role in dance instruction. She is temporarily lost in the moment, almost dreamy-eyed, but realizes what is happening physically. She asks him to stop, but not firmly. He confesses, bluntly, that there is no chance he can stop. She has pushed him too far. She struggles, but hopelessly. through a long seduction scene that leaves her naked but for the skirt. He is on his knees, between her legs. She begs again for him to stop, "Please, no, my husband couldn't stand it if he could see..." but he ignores her, his head goes beween her legs. And the orgasm was clearly an OMG moment for Pamela, as both dance student and a GGH wife -- and it was very nearly an orgasmic moment for me!
At home that night, after some inspired sexual moves of our own, Jim and I talked about the extent of my turn-on. He asked me whether Douglas being black was a big factor. I dodged and said I would think about that, which I have. I am still not really sure of the role, but I know it has helped me visualize fantasy possibilities, and the beauty of Club GHH is that there's a chance they can come true.
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As Jim and I drove toward the GHH estate for the August meeting, I decided to dive straight into an idea that I knew wouldn't surprise him. "We need to talk about tonight... I want to approach Douglas about a fantasy."
As expected, Jim looked at me and smiled, "It's pretty obvious that you've been, what's the word...smitten."
"I know. It's crazy. But I can't get that dance out of my head."
This time he laughed at me, but gently. "I'm not complaining. You've been, let's just say, unusually warm to the touch ever since. Do you want a dance of your own?"
"I don't know yet. Probably not a dance. But I've got a crazy idea for tonight, I want to ask Douglas for an informal, just him and me, just for a little while."
Now he frowned his puzzlement. "I don't know what that means."
There was good reason for him to be confused. A GGH 'informal' is a short fantasy, sometimes just a few minutes long. Little or no preparation. Sometimes no audience, although the spouse is often involved. Some members liken it to live vs. imaginary masturbation. If the playroom is available and if the invited member's 'dance card is light' -- another GHH term -- an informal might happen right away, but more typical is after a drink or two.
I shook my head. "I'm just not ready for a 'formal' -- maybe still nervous, or maybe not confident yet. I don't know."
Jim nodded. "I get that. Cassie says it's not unusual for newbies. So what are you thinking about?" (Cassie and husband Parker were our sponsors for membership.)
In a few seconds, I blurted several hours of thought. "I want Douglas to be with me on a bed, and just talk to me about my possible formal fantasy... you know, let me ask questions, stuff like that."
There was a long pause while Jim took all that in. "Well, I am surprised by that. How did you come up with the idea?"
"It feels safe, but it also gets me excited to think about it." I smiled, at him, a smile that might have been a bit naughty. "In fact, it's getting me excited right now."
He drove for maybe a quarter mile and found a place to pull over. "Okay, panty check. Spread 'em."
I was wearing white string bikinis under a blue flowered sundress, I hiked up the dress and opened my thighs for him, anticipating in advance that I was going to fail; or maybe he would think I had passed, big time.
His hand went down the front of my panties and two fingers were in me instantly, probing. "Good grief, girl, get a room."
"I know. Crazy isn't it?"
He cleared his throat, his voice a little hoarse. "So what are you going to be wearing?"
He knew that GHH had an extensive 'costume department' but BYO was common as well, especially for informals. I purred my reply, my voice now a bit hoarse. "I brought a dress, a lot like this except white, but I also brought a little nightie, in case Douglas would like that better."
He shook his head, his grip tightening on the steering wheel. "Right now, this is driving me crazy, but in a good way, I guess. We said we wanted to add excitement." He cleared his throat again. "Will he be touching you?"
I had thought about that, of course, but still needed a deep breath. "Maybe a little. It would depend on... I don't know. Maybe. Would you be okay if he did?"
He exhaled audibly. "Well, here we are, right? This is the whole idea. So, yes, I'm okay with it."
"Do you want to be there with me?" I asked.
"Do you want me to be?"
"I'd rather not...I mean, it would seem awkward a little. But it's okay if..."
