Feeding on Christopher Ch. 01

This is my first attempt at a story on here... So be nice, and please comment!

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Christopher's eyes flutter, half closed, half open, flashing light stinging them. The pulsing beat of an electronic beat fills the room, soon echoed by his own racing heart. His t-shirt is a hint sweaty, as is he, bronzed skin gleaming in the multicolored lights. Pressure is along his hips and groin, outside his jeans, from the woman in front of him, rolling her hips against his own in time with the beat. He feels his hands moving, stroking along her sides, right at the patch of pale skin revealed from her shirt having worked up due to her grinding. His palms slide up and down, slowly stroking her skin. The only way to describe it, despite the pleasure of the physical, and sensual nature of it, is right.

Christopher's eyes move along the ample cleavage revealed down the tight fitting tank top the woman he is dancing with wears, barely able to glimpse the pale pink bead drawn tight from arousal at the tip. He feels her lips touching his neck, and the feel of her hands sliding up his back as she turns to press her front flush to his. Soft tight beads of flesh spear into him, pressed by soft orbs into his sweaty shirt. All he can see is her eyes now, soft, almost glowing, hypnotic even in the flashing lights.

Again that strange feeling, like this is what he is supposed to do. A surge of some nameless pleasure simply infuses him as his gaze drifts along hers, the orbs he gazes into are a brilliant blue, as bright as the sky. Her pale skinned hand lifts from his back, stroking sensually along his face, his breathing catching as that strange feeling returns.

Time for him seems to slip, begins to slip, a strange sliding sensation felt as the dancing continues, soon feeling soft lips tracing along his neck. Christopher's eyes drift closed, a soft groan leaving his lips, feeling her leg sliding along his groin. He can feel her leg stroking him, her balance incredible. Distantly, he can feel a wall pressing against his back, her weight supporting him, feeling oddly weak.

A hand cups his hair, guiding his lips to hers, soon feeling soft metallic taste, also the taste of the cherry flavored beverage she had been drinking at the bar before something drew him over to ask her to dance. The world flashes white before his eyes, then everything around him goes dark as her eyes draw his in, then seem to eclipse the world, which vanishes around him as he slumps forwards and into her arms.

Chris's head is splitting when he slowly begins to drift awake. His eyes crack open, feeling even the dull light from some distant room into this one splitting into his head, forcing his eyes to close once more. A chill brushes his chest before he feels it, feeling his shirt missing. Chris lets out a soft groan, rubbing his head as he sits up, feeling the blankets around his waist slide down. He is dressed only in his boxers, and a faintly sticky sensation coats his groin.

Soon enough, as his vision recovers, and his headache recedes a bit, he sees the woman from the bar. She is clad in a form fitting silken robe, her breasts straining the delicate fabric. Her eyes draw his own in, the blue making the world ease, his concerns, worries, vanish. His mouth feels overly dry as he manages to say "What... What happened? Where am I?"

She laughs, walking over to sit down next to him. Soft skin meets his scalp as her hand lifts upwards, brushing along his hair, brushing her hand along his cheek, like one might do to a dog, petting him. Her voice is soft "Your in my room above the club downstairs... You passed out on the dance floor... I took you up here for you to recover..."

Chris frowns slightly, his eyes moving along her face, feeling something wrong about her statement. Something about her tone, and they way her eyes capture his, seems to melt the concern away, a faint sensation of pressure in his mind occurring a moment before it vanishes. A few moments of trying to think of something to say ends in him nodding hesitantly towards the radiant beauty.

Her soft laughter again rings in his ears as he feels her hand gently taking his chin, guiding his strangely, to him, unresisting mouth in to kiss, leisurely, at her own pleasure, before pulling back. She says lightly "You said last night you were off today... Right?" in that voice like an angel, soft, melodic, ringing gently into his ears.

His voice cracks a bit, surprising him, as he answers "Yeah... I don't work until Monday... Its... Saturday morning now right?" he glances down for his watch, frowning upon seeing it missing. He glances around for one in the room around him, only just now starting to really see it. The style is older, but the furniture is still fine, mostly wood tones, with a pale cream for the paint on the walls. A wardrobe stands in the corner, it's rich cherry wood gleaming in the soft light from the lamp over head.

Chris frowns slightly at not seeing a window, but shrugs it off as he watches her simply staring at him, amusement in her eyes, a playful, almost mocking expression. Her reply comes soon enough as she says softly 'Indeed Christopher... I think your missing your watch... You should check the lost and found for the club..."

Christopher's eyes narrow a bit at that, saying softly "There is a lost and found there?" as the rather mysterious, and unnamed woman laughs. She says lightly "Of course..." before her soft lips meet his own again. Again that faint pressure is felt in his head, and when she next speaks, her words seem to pass right through him, unheard.

Chris can feel his eyes widening as he feels his hands sliding, unbidden, along her arms, her smile amused, mocking, and filled with some other expression he cant place. Her voice is soft as she says "You want something... Don't you my pet?" in an almost mocking tone.

His eyes go wide at the feel of something grasping his hardened shaft within the boxers he still wears, his gaze drifting down to his mostly undressed form, managing to say "Where are my clothes?" as his gaze centers onto her hand that is groping him. Her laughter is her reply as a powerful hand closes onto the back of his head, guiding his unable to resist lips back to hers again.

The woman's eyes capture his again, holding them as he feels himself growing strangely weak in her arms. Christopher's eyes flutter a moment as he slumps forwards, only to be carefully pushed back, and lain onto the bed. Her hand slips along his stiffening shaft, working up and down along the fabric covering it as her voice whispers "That's right Christopher, my Sweet... Just relax... Ill make it all better..."

As her words begin, her eyes move along his, another faint feeling of pressure occurring behind his temples. A pause ensues, his eyes shutting for a moment, then opening. A stirring of air runs over his groin, and his gaze flicks down, shock entering his eyes at the sudden disappearance of his boxers, and the hand that slides up and down his shaft.

To Be Continued...