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'M' is For: [Ch15] Salvation in Sin - Part 2
🕑 Added 2025-04-15 11:00:10 +0000 UTCLooking around, I could see what Sharon meant about the space. It wasn’t exactly on a level with Missy’s sweeping penthouse apartment with its floor-to-ceiling windows and stunning views, but it wasn’t trying to be, either. The space was an expansive suite, with a small little kitchenette and an open living room area replete with upholstered arm chairs, indulgent chaise lounges, and a low mahogany coffee table. The table itself looked like it bore the spoils of a recent raid on a pastry shop. There were small fruit tarts, lavishly decorated cakes, and a tiered cake stand that bore in all their multi-colored splendor a kaleidoscope of French macarons.
“I’m getting a sugar high just looking at that,” I said in a low voice to Sharon, and she snorted.
We left our jackets and personal belongings on a small settee that had been pulled out just for that purpose and wandered over to the guests that were already there. Whereas Missy had carefully curated her guests for their Instagrammable good looks, the crowd here was a different makeup altogether. I got to meet the German heiress friend-of-a-friend, who greeted me with a vague but warm friendliness. Her companions were other New York socialites, entrepreneurs, and minor members of the European nobility who had for all appearances jetted off to the US to have a good time and generally escape the responsibilities of home.
For whatever reason, one of them, a tall, wiry guy with a head full of dark curls, seemed to take a particular interest in me. After the first round of introductions were made, he approached me with that glint in his eyes that I was familiar with.
“Alexander at your service,” he said, extending an elegant hand toward me. His voice had the kind of precise enunciation that suggested despite his near-native proficiency, he perhaps had grown up speaking a different language altogether.
“Mallory.” We shook hands. “Let me guess: you’re a European noble here for the summer?”
He laughed, delighted. “You are direct, aren’t you?”
“I try to cut the bullshit where I can.” Generally I didn’t do such a great job in my personal life but hey, who was he to know that?
“I couldn’t help but notice you’ve got the most extraordinarily beautiful eyes I’ve seen.”
I smiled at Alexander, taking in the way his shirt clung becomingly to the lean angles of his body. “Thank you. I’ll forgive you the rote pick-up line in favor of the delivery.”
Alexander’s smile widened. “Excellent. Better and better.” He gestured toward the coffee table, laden with sweets. “Could I tempt you with a bite?”
“Hell yeah.” I turned and caught Sharon’s eye and she gave me a cheeky thumbs-up. Biting back a smile of my own, I allowed Alexander to escort me to the macarons.
There certainly wasn’t any of the dramatic showmanship that was so distinctive of Missy’s book club parties. One moment we were all sitting around sipping champagne enjoying the food, and the next, the velvet curtains were drawn to block out the light and people were shrugging out of shirts and dresses, exposing bare necks and shoulders and thighs.
Sharon was right; it was different in all the right ways. There was something nice about going to a party for a good old-fashioned fuck. Alexander scattered kisses and flowery praise down my neck and shoulder, and I rubbed his hardening groin with the palm of my hand. Feeling a more devilish side emerge, I persuaded him to put on a cock cage and told him if he was serious about wanting me, he’d better not touch the thing until the end of the night. And then I proceeded to spend the next two hours getting to know the others intimately, keenly aware of Alex’s eyes following me across the room.
Sharon and I tag-teamed to edge a blonde-haired cutie three times. She deep-throated his cock while I ground my dampening pussy into his face and teased his nipples. Only once we had him begging for release, literally with tears in his eyes, did we relent—but not before Sharon laughed in his face and made him drink champagne out of her mouth like some erotic mama bird regurgitating into a baby hatchling. There was something immensely gratifying about making him come on his knees, his hands braced against the edge of a cushion, while Sharon speared him with a strap-on dildo and I taunted him for his complete and utter sluttiness.
“I might have underestimated you,” a familiar voice said in a low whisper by my ear. I turned to see Alex, his lips red from kissing another girl, his dark curls charmingly disheveled. “You might be beautiful as a goddess, but you’re cruel to the men who would worship you.”
I smirked at him. This sweet-talking fuckboy knew all the right things to say. A year ago, I would have fled, all the warning bells going off in my head. But now I knew the game better now. It was good to be a little cruel every now and then. Even fun.
“Mortals should know better than to expect their love to be returned on their own terms. Still have your cock locked up like a good boy?” I asked sweetly.
With a groan, he stepped back to let me see. His cock strained against the metal of its enclosure, and even in the dimmed light, I could see it had flushed a deep and satisfying pink.
“Kiss me,” I commanded.
Swiftly, he obeyed, leaning down to meet his lips with mine. I grabbed the ends of his loosened tie, which hung around his bare neck, and pulled him close. I nibbled his bottom lip and savored the taste of his mouth. It was a mix of sugar and brandy and the aftertaste of a clove cigarette.
Satisfied that he had met my terms, I led him around the back of the sofa where he’d been standing and pushed him down into a sitting position. He obeyed, his eyes glazed with desire, his lips pulled to the side into a crooked self-aware grin. I carefully removed the cock cage and set it safely aside. Kissing him, I put my hands on him and began to stroke.
It didn’t take Alex long to reach his climax. He came almost violently, jerking against the sofa cushions and throwing back his head as his fingers dug into the plush fabric. I pulled back a little to watch his cum shoot out over his abdomen, spattering in wet sticky droplets onto his pale skin. Slowly, I swirled my fingers into the fluid, rubbing it into his skin. He moaned beneath me.
“Lick my fingers,” I said in a low voice, bringing the tips of my fingers to his mouth. His eyes lifted to meet mine, dazzled. His cheeks were stained with a flush. Obediently, he brought his lips to my fingers and began to lick and suck. With my free hand, I wound my fingers into his curls to hold his head steady. “Good boy.”
When he was done, I released him, and he fell back into the cushions.
“That,” he said breathlessly, “was incredible.”
Soon after, Mark invited me to join their and Cleo’s little gangbang. Sharon rejoined us halfway through and laughed at the tangle of limbs and dildos we had become on the carpet. Cleo’s vision was definitely more ambitious than the usual party fare, but I was game, and we laughed off the fumbling and occasional clumsiness that her positions required.
When the night had worn on into the early hours of the morning, Sharon and I shared a cab ride back, keen to get into some comfortable clothes and catch some sleep in our own beds.
“Starting to feel my years,” I joked to Sharon, who mock-glared at me.
“Don’t even start,” she said. “You’re not allowed to make those kinds of jokes for at least another ten years.” She sat back, turning slightly inward to face me across the backseat. Her eyes gleamed in the dim light of the cab. “So what did you think? Worth the little trek?”
“It was a nice break,” I admitted. “Thanks for inviting me out.”
“Anytime, hun.”
The cab dropped me off first. I got out of the car and waved goodbye to Sharon through the window. By the time I’d managed to shower and fumble my way into my PJs, I was completely wiped. I fell asleep almost as soon as I hit the sheets.
❖❖❖
That wasn’t the last time I saw Sharon. In the months that followed, I joined her for several more weekends. We went back to The Double Windsor and later also tried out a warehouse in Bushwick. Living in the same neighborhood made traveling together convenient. It felt novel to no longer be the only one commuting in from another borough. If anything, Edward, who joined us for the event in Bushwick, was now the outsider from Manhattan.
I continued to see Missy and the others at barre and afterward, but in that time, I only made it to one book club event. I half-expected Missy to drop me from her invite list, but she didn’t. Sure as clockwork, every Wednesday night I’d get another message over Signal confirming the time and date of the next event. I wondered if one of my friends was secretly pulling strings to keep me in good standing.
However, it was only a matter of time before I had to make a very important decision. As spring came around, thawing out the frosty grip of winter, the biggest event of the year lurked just around the corner: Missy’s birthday.
Mal, you HAVE to come to Missy’s birthday party, Kiara texted me. Missy goes all out. You can’t miss it!!!
Missy’s annual birthday bash was infamous. All throughout the book club circuit, the people she’d invited the last couple of years spoke of it in tones of hushed reverence. Despite my general reservations, I wasn’t above my fair share of curiosity. The descriptions of the dazzling lights and glittering body art painted quite the mental image, and I enjoyed a good spectacle as much as anyone else. Whatever one might say about Missy, I had to admit the woman knew how to put on a good show.
Alex, the fancy gentleman I’d met my first time out at The Double Windsor, had also been hinting heavily to me that he wanted to attend one of Missy’s book clubs with me. I personally suspected it had more to do with his thrill-seeking instincts than anything to do with me personally, but I finally caved and asked Missy if we could go.
Having not spoken directly to Missy in so long, I was a little surprised at how quickly she responded to my message. Less than a couple minutes after texting her, her reply buzzed back to my phone.
Abso-fucking-lutely, girl. Any friend of yours is welcome! I’m DELIGHTED you’ll be coming. Heart emoji, heart emoji. Make sure to bring a mask!
Great, will do! I typed back, along with a smattering of hearts of my own. See you there.
I pocketed my phone, smiling wryly. If some part of me had been secretly trying to avoid Missy and her boyfriend, well, it looked like I had finally run out of excuses.
