Saturday morning, we had a lie-in and a slow, late breakfast. I also tried on my father's tuxedo. It was a bit tight in places, with my muscular physique. I could not do up the buttons on the jacket but decided to leave it open. We had to go to the shops for a dress shirt because my neck was thicker than my father's. At around 4 pm, Sophie told me to watch some sports while getting ready. A long soak in the bath, getting the razor out to shave her pussy and other bits.

I organised some nibbles, which Sophie ate in her dressing gown before we dressed. I had wondered what sort of clothes Sophie might wear, and I was a bit gobsmacked after I helped her into her dress. I now understood the need for the long topcoat. Not so much keeping her decent as keeping her warm. The dress had no arms, back, or sides and was as short as anything I had ever seen her wear.

The front was hourglass-shaped, wide enough to cover the front of her breasts but not most of the side and top. The middle narrowed to about six inches wide over her belly button before widening enough to reach her thighs. I could see there was a built-in bra to keep her breasts in the right place. It was made of golden shimmering material and had a gold strap from the top edges as a halter strap.

The back was of the same material and was a square around the size of a handkerchief. It started just below the cleft of her ass, covered only around half of it, and finished just around the decency line. It was connected on both sides by a golden strap matching the halter that roughly kept the front and back in place. There was no underwear, and I had to put some of her essential items, lipstick, compact, and phone, in my pockets.

As she walked, the dress swished and moved from side to side and up so that her barely covered pussy came into view. The whole thing had as much material as a small towel, and although it hid the essential parts, a hand could move it out of the way in seconds. She had on a pair of six-inch plus stilettos that she could barely walk in. They had a strap around the ankles to stop them from falling off. I felt so proud lifting her from the Uber into Georgios.

My black card was ready in my hand. It wasn't required because all those in tuxedos and long coats were ushered inside and down the stairs. I didn't envy Sophie descending on these shoes, but she managed it quickly enough. At the bottom was a curtain, and while she walked through, Sophie left her coat and joined in with the others already there in their flimsy dresses. I was a little surprised at how big the whole room looked.

A bar was on one side next to the toilets; otherwise, the entire space was open. There was a dance floor, but it was not in use. There were around a dozen tall, small tables and around thirty stools, mostly sat on by women with the same tall stilettos and not much else. When we got there, there were around sixty people all told, which eventually got to around a hundred. Sophie introduced me around. Paul's son was now expected by me, more so than my real name.

I was aware of how it worked from conversations this morning. The society, in which Dad was an officer, used the downstairs at Georgios from 7-9:30 on Saturday and Wednesday evenings. The idea was you all dressed up, had a few drinks and some canapes and made small talk whilst working out where to go later. About eight to ten parties were planned this evening, from twenty or more couples to five or six.

Anyone not getting an invite would try to hook up to go to a hotel room or somewhere else for sex. If she had been here with my father, Paul would have accepted the invite from the biggest party, another of the society officers. Since he wasn't here, I was not going to get invited by proxy, and that allowed us to go to one of the other parties. One that might be a bit more interesting. The difficulty was getting someone to take a chance on me.

Sophie said she had the trump card, Georgio's stretch limousine, which he had agreed she could borrow for a quick trip, there and back later on. I walked around with my mouth a little agape. All of the guys had tuxedos on, although there were a couple of guys in leather ones, which I gather meant something to do with BDSM. The women wore either long dresses with a slit to the waist or underwear posing as clothing.

When we had got all the way around, we bumped into Audrey, the girl who had felt up my cock on my first visit. She quickly dragged her husband over to meet us and tell us about the party they were going to. This was precisely what Sophie was looking for, and the two of them wandered off to get me an invite. I felt out of place once Sophie left since all the guys were at least ten years older than me.

However, I had better-shaped shoulders than all except a few with my rowing workouts. A few other younger guys with stunning partners, barely dressed, wandered over to say hello. I suppose I looked out of place, but the magic words of Paul's son seemed to do the trick; one of the women even asked the "like father, like son" question. I was pretty impressed with my father even though he wasn't here.

The girl was in her mid-twenties and wearing a black leather mini skirt barely four inches deep that struggled to hide both pussy and clit. She also wore a sheer top to her neck and wrists. It showed off her perky breasts that had a piece of gold chain attached to both nipples. I so wanted to reach out and grab them but forced my eyes upwards. I knew he had fucked her, the way she stared at my crotch. 

As I moved around the room I realised that although everyone was here for sex, there wasn't the same intense focus as you would have in the pub before couples might pair off. The vibe was that you knew you would have sex, but there was an element of lucky dip about it. I could see why Dad was uncomfortable with Sophie dancing with a guy and then having sex as they might get attached. Swapping meant the attachment would need to work both ways, which was unlikely.

Shortly afterwards, Sophie and Audrey re-joined me and the others in the group and informed me that we were potentially in for the same party that Audrey was at; there was a little thing to sort out, which Sophie told me was not a problem. We wandered around the room, chatting with couples, making small talk, and sharing stories. It was pretty apparent to me that nearly all of the couples we talked to, Sophie, had fucked the husband and played around with the wife.

They had that easy shared experience that I recognised from how I spoke to ex-girlfriends. She was having a great time, but it was incredibly dull for me because the conversation only had three stages. Firstly, I was Paul's son. Secondly, I was fucking Sophie, and thirdly did I have the same size cock as my father. Sophie mostly gave out the three yeses, and I nodded and tried to remember their names. I also tried to check out the wife's assets without being obvious.

I realised after a while that the wife liked it more if I was a bit more evident, because a young guy checking out someone much older was quite a compliment. It wasn't difficult because they wore as little as possible and only a thong for underwear at best. I decided to be attentive to Sophie, desperate to fit in. I smiled, nodded, and ensured any words I said repeated the couple's names so they knew I was paying attention.

Two hours passed, and most people were looking to move on to the real fun of the evening, like being in the pub before going on to the club. I was introduced to Wendy and Tony, whose party we wanted to attend. They were two pretty nondescript people in their early thirties, although Wendy had a figure that screamed working out. She wore a mostly see-through gauze dress with black cloth covering the four essential parts.

She also had two zippers that were front and back, opening up at both ends. The front top was open to her navel, tits spilling out but not exposed. At the back, the bottom was unzipped to the bottom of her back, totally exposing her ass crack and a jewelled butt plug was visible. Crazy and horny and Sophie whispered in my ear that I would be fucking her ass before the night was out. As I said, crazy. Suddenly, we were going in a stretch limo, no less.

This was our entry fee, the limo there and back. It seemed Georgio's cousin owned a limo company, and Dad had a small share. Enough to jump the queue for what turned out to be a short trip. As we all piled inside, seven couples, there were around a dozen seats in a circle, and Sophie told me my starring role was about to start. I was to lick off the hostess, Wendy, and ensure she came before we arrived.

She whispered the move and what to follow if that wasn't working. As we got in the limo, Wendy unzipped the bottom of the dress to just under her breasts and sat down, naked from the waist down. Primed by Sophie, I wasted no time and ducked under her legs, dropping them on my shoulders. I went to town on her, fingers finding her g-spot almost straight away. My tongue rimmed her clit and then made little stabbing moves.

It wasn't long before I could feel the tell-tale signs of nectar on my fingers and then a little gasp of breath. Wendy's first quiver followed shortly afterwards, and then we proceeded to orgasm number one. Sophie had trained me well in the complex and fast first orgasm number nine. We were only just on our way when Wendy gave a deep moan and called out to Sophie that I was fucking excellent.

Given such precise instructions from my mentor, orgasm numbers two and three were not far after the first and just as she was in the throes of bliss for the third time, we arrived at our destination. I found out afterwards that I was being given an audition. We would return to the limo if Wendy hadn't been happy when we got to her house. I was glad I didn't know, as I might have flopped, but Sophie had enough confidence in me to let me do my stuff. She was right to do so.