The Christopher Chronicles Ch. 02

The beeping sound started so faint, but began to build in Christopher's ears. Rubbing the spot where Zita's hair had softly swept his skin, he realized he was alone in the bed. His eyes fluttered open and he instantly felt confused. He was staring at a white ceiling with a fire sprinkler jutting out on the corner. Jumping out of bed, he looked around to see he was in the hotel room he had been in before meeting the woman to help her with the door. THE WOMAN... THE TEXT, he screamed in his own head. He looked frantically on the bedside table, floor, tossing bedding onto the floor; but he couldn't find his phone.

BEEP BEEP BEEP

The sound startled Christopher. It was the same sound he had heard while he was sleeping and had assumed it was an alarm, but this sound was coming from outside. He looked out his window. Three police cars lined the curb across the street and they had sectioned off a part of what used to be the street with yellow tape. A loader was scooping dirt in to the back of a dump truck and as the loader backed up, the beeping sound bounced off the surrounding buildings. The scene was so strange that Christopher had to physically rub his eyes and look again. When he continued to see the same thing, he turned and ran to the bathroom, splashing cold water on his face. He looked up at the mirror. He looked like himself, what he had remembered he looked like anyway. But, he didn't feel like himself at all. Slowly, he made his way back to the window and peered down, sure that he would see a normal busy city street this time. There were two large pine trees butchered and laying on a city street in downtown Denver, and patches of grass and flowers in the ground as if they had been there for years. The current scoop of dirt in the loader revealed what looked like a wooden door. THE wooden door. The one with carvings and metal ribbon. Placing his hands on the air conditioning unit in front of the window to balance himself, he felt something rectangular. His phone. Quickly, he woke the screen and checked his text messages. There were the ones from his mother he had saved. A few from friends he received during his recent trip to Texas. He checked the deleted folder and it was empty. No message from the woman. As he stared at his phone in disbelief, it pinged with a new text.

HEY MAN, YOU MISSED THE MEETING. YOU OK?

The message was from Ron. Ron set up a meeting with a company in Denver hoping they would offer Christopher a position. Christopher really didn't want the position because he loved traveling and basically being his own boss. But, he wanted to take the meeting for Ron's sake. The flashing alarm clock on the bedside table said it was already 10:45am. He sent a text back to Ron with an apology and asked if he'd like to meet for lunch. Ron sent an address and a time to meet.

After a shower, and briefly writing down everything he remembered from his dream, Christopher left his hotel room to meet Ron for lunch. The pub Ron suggested looked more like a seedy strip club than a blue collar bar from the outside. The parking lot was packed with work trucks and motorcycles. He pushed the heavy metal door open, spray painted in stencil was the name of the pub, Rome's, in white. A long bar was the first thing he saw upon entering. Several bartenders were working behind it but one in particular caught his attention. A curvy tattooed woman with dark dreads stood behind the bar smiling at the man across from her while she mixed his drink. Her eyes were an aqua blue. They reminded him of someone, glistening like a diamond as they darted around to her customers. She wore tight blue jeans with tears all down both legs and under her left butt cheek and black bra with spikes. His eyes moved around the room to see each waitress was dressed similarly. Cute bottoms, either shorts or pants, and a bra.

He was escorted to a table by a woman he couldn't describe. He couldn't take his eyes off of the bartender. For a second, her eyes moved away from her customers and pierced his; his heart jumping in his chest, and stomach flipped as she did.

"I told you this would be a great place for lunch!" Ron slapped Christopher on the shoulder and took the chair across from him. Christopher smiled and nodded at Ron. The waitress appeared next to the table, setting menus in front of both men. Christopher almost choked on his own tongue when he looked up at her. She had beautiful red tendrils bouncing over full breasts. She was wearing a brown leather bra and matching pants. Her green eyes burned into his and he looked away slightly to see an intricate tattoo of a sword on her left shoulder. Flashes of his dream flooded his mind and he shook his head while the waitress giggled.

"What can I get you guys to drink?"

Ron stared at Christopher waiting for him to order.

"Two beers," he answered for Christopher. "Geez man, you act like you've never seen a woman before."

"I've seen plenty, man. But that particular one I saw in a dream." Christopher rubbed his face aggressively.

"Dream girl," Ron laughed hard at the thought.

The waitress returned with two beers and Ron ordered food for both of them while Christopher stared at the name tag placed on the strap of her bra. Her name was Lilith. She winked at him and left them to their meal. Christopher no longer had much of an appetite. He slowly sipped his beer, slipping in and out of the conversation Ron was happily having with himself. Stories of job sites he'd visited, estimates he needed to give for work here or there, and every story had some hot mom or college age student just begging for his attention. Lilith's shift must have ended because she never returned to their table. She was replaced by a curvy blonde in short jean shorts and a colorful bra. She was bouncy and sweet but seemed very offended by Christopher's obvious disappointed reaction when she greeted them as their new waitress.

He waited until she came back to replace empty bottles with fresh new beer, and excused himself to the bathroom. Weaving through busy tables and busty wait staff down a long dim hallway, he found two doors that were clearly the bathrooms. Everything was so difficult to focus on, including the signs on the doors. His eyes reacted as if he had been out in the bright sun for hours and just walked inside an unlit area of a house. The music that had been almost too loud in the pub now sounded like a garbled echo. Christopher felt a little dizzy, but when he leaned back against the wall, he felt someone behind him. It was almost too dark to make out who it was, but he could smell dirt, a little sweat, and ...was that a wet dog smell? Lips were pressing against his and it was a kiss he knew very well. The lips had only met his once, but he remembered the way Zita tasted on his tongue. He couldn't forget how her moan filled his mouth and sent waves of arousal all the way down his stomach, into his groin. His hands wrapped around her body, sliding down her spine to her plump ass, and pulling her into him tightly. She moaned in his mouth and he felt as if he could scream from the rooftops and hop up and down at the same time. He felt like a child on Christmas.

A loud DING rang through the hallway, and in an instant, he was alone. The space was a little brighter, sound returned to a normal frequency, he could see everything and everyone clearly. But he was completely alone. Not just physically alone, but mentally as well. His heart ached and his body craved Zita. But she was just gone.

Christopher felt so disconnected to his surroundings. He could hear Ron babbling about something as they walked out of the pub. Something about setting up another meeting but it was the last thing on Christopher's mind. Wondering if Zita would wake up and be upset that he was gone almost made Christopher laugh out loud. The dream was so real that he was seeing parts of it in his waking life and wondering how a dream participant feels now that he's not there. Going so far as to imagine making out with this dream woman in a hallway of a pub. Even though he was trying to laugh at himself, he still felt a sick feeling in his stomach. A "homesick" feeling.

Arriving back to the hotel three hours later, he still felt off. A woman at the front desk was facing the computer away from the counter, her backside jiggling a little as she typed standing up. Her pencil skirt hugged her in all the right ways, and Christopher excepted her to turn around and be the woman he had helped the night before. Or had he helped anyone? When she turned to face him, he knew for certain it wasn't her. She looked nothing like the beautiful mystery woman that met him in the lobby. His stomach rolled and he thought he may vomit. Quickly he made his way to his room, fumbling with the card and finally getting it to scan. He heard the locks release and he opened the door. The sun poured into the window and he stood in the beam of light, soaking up the warmth. A calm washed over him and he started to feel sleepy. Removing his clothes and shoes, he crawled under the blankets and placed his phone on the charger and laid it on the nightstand.

A whirring sound woke him and it must have been much later because the room was dark. An uneasiness washed over him; a feeling of being in an unfamiliar place. The fan on the dresser at the end of the bed was the source of the whirring noise. Fan...there wasn't a fan in this room. There wasn't even a dresser at the foot of the bed. His focus was pulled to the small circular fan, with a metal cage surrounding the blades, and a white plastic circle in the middle of it with a name in silver. He couldn't make out the name but saw light flickering against the plastic. A reflection of people moving about the room, and light flashing bright against the plastic again. Christopher looked behind him but all that was there was a wall, and dark room. His eyes drop slowly to the plastic piece on the fan, staring now at the reflections...the lights...whatever it is. It seemed to pull him in and his body relaxed as he continued to stare into the circle. He felt his body being physically pulled now. In...in to the fan...in to the scene inside the plastic of the fan.

A crisp ring or perhaps a song wakes him. Warm wind whips white sheer curtains softly away from two large windows. Bird are singing outside and he can hear the neighbor start up his lawn mower.

Mower? Neighbor? Where am...

His thought is interrupted by the crisp ring again. Definitely a ring, that he's sure of this time. From a very high tech phone perhaps? The smell of bacon makes his stomach growl followed by the smell of coffee and his head throbs as if remembering he needs caffeine just from the smell. Sitting up, he pushes the blankets off his body. He's wearing pjs. He never wears clothes to bed, but he clearly is in this place. His feet instinctually slip in to the pair of slippers sitting neatly by his bed.

Making his way down the hallway, he jumps when a female voice greets him.

"Good morning, Christopher." He looks around the room for the woman. Bacon is still sizzling on a white platter on the black marbled counter. A glass top seems to be fused with the marble. Next to the platter is a bowl of scrambled eggs, a plate of toast, and a serving plate and fork for one, and a full cup of coffee, still steaming. He pads to the coffee and takes a sip of what may be the best coffee he has ever tasted. Leaning his elbows down on the counter, he takes another sip.

Dream coffee is delicious, he thinks to himself.

A picture pops up on the counter, like a computer screen. It's a woman. She has sandy blonde hair and brown eyes. Blinking twice, she smiles and then says, "Good morning, Christopher," in the same voice he had heard when he first entered the kitchen.

"Um...good morning...ma'am."

The woman giggles. "There's no need for that, Sir. You know you can call me Alana."

"I'm sorry, Alana." The name felt familiar in his mouth. "Here's the thing. I think I may be dreaming again. I have been having some intense and very realistic dreams recently. I was in my hotel and next thing I know, I'm here. I don't even know who you are. Are you my wife?"

"Exactly Christopher. Your personal W.I.F.E. Wireless Intelligent Female Entity."

Alana smiled at him, unblinking.

"Well, I have no idea what that means, but this is one hell of a dream."

"Sir, your blood pressure is elevated. Would you like me to draw you a bath? Or would you like a massage?" she asked, sounding very concerned.

"How are you going to do any of those things? You're a computer, right?" Christopher was getting frustrated with this ...woman. He had just told her he was in a dream and she didn't seem to care one bit. Perhaps because computers can't really care about anyone or anything.

"Sir..." she sounded...hurt, almost as if she had heard his thoughts. Had he said it out loud but just thought he said it inside his head? Christopher instantly felt like an asshole and apologized.

"I'm not just a computer. I was created by you, for you. I'm your perfect match. I can do all the things I offered. I made you the breakfast that sits in front of you. Everything in this home runs on the same high tech smart functions you used to design me. I'm sorry you're stressed, and I'm sorry you had a bad dream. But please don't call me a computer," and with that last statement, she disappeared.

A little yellow bird popped in and out of the feeder hanging from the tree outside the large kitchen window. Christopher watched the little guy as he enjoyed his breakfast. Stuffing his mouth with the last piece of bacon, he picked up his empty plates and platters and placed them in the sink. The bottom of the sink flipped, taking the dirty dishes with it, and spun around again as perfectly polished stainless steel. He pushed at the bottom of the sink with his fingers, trying to find the seams, but it was just an empty sink. His tongue felt like sandpaper against his lips and he searched the sink for a faucet. What kind of sink doesn't have a faucet? A mechanical growling sounds came from behind a dark wood cabinet followed by a ping sound. The door opened and revealed a bottle of water.

This is the life, Christopher thought to himself. I think something and this place gives it to me.

He twisted the cap on the bottle and took a long swig. Just like the coffee, this was the most delicious water he had ever had. The perfect temperature too. He laughed at the thoughts in his head, and couldn't help but think if food and drink was so perfect here, what would sex be like? A crashing sound made him jump and he looked around the kitchen, half expecting a naked goddess to greet him on her knees. There was no naked goddess. Just a cat jumping the fence in the backyard. With shaking hands, he pulled the handle of the sliding glass door. It slid with such ease, he thought he was going to break it. Confused, he closed it, and then opened it again. When the door was closed, the bright sun poured in, warming his skin. He could hear the birds singing outside and see butterflies flitting about. When he opened the door, a bitter cold breeze creeped over his skin like a growing cloud of poison or an evil spirit. It made him feel sick to his stomach. Also, there wasn't a yard. No grass, or trees. Not a single bird. Just...nothing. Dark grey nothing. He stared into the nothing and felt his body begin to panic. His heart raced as if something was coming after him, but he couldn't see anything. Jumping back, the door closed itself and the sickening feeling was replaced with warm sun and singing birds. Panting, Christopher leaned back against the counter and poured a little water from the bottle into his hands and splashed it against his face. He didn't want to be in this place anymore. He just wanted to wake up, so he tried slapping himself in the face a few times. All that was left from that attempt was stinging skin.

Maybe if I go to sleep. Before, I went to sleep and I woke up back in my hotel room. That's what I will do, he thought. Before he even finished the thought in his head, the view out of the windows changed. Darkness came with the sound of an owl hooting. Bright stars sparkled in the sky and a cool breeze that had an earthy scent of petrichor, as if it had just sprinkled lightly and then cleared up and he moved sleepily down the hallway to the bedroom he had slept in that morning.

Two women were on the bed. Both on their knees, their bodies facing one another but eyes on Christopher and his erection reacted before his brain could. Both of the women were curvy brunettes. One wore a sleek high ponytail and a leather collar with a large hoop in the front. She sat back on her heels with her breasts pushed out and her hands palm side up on her thighs. Her chocolate eyes glistened as she looked him up and down, and licked her lips greedily. The other wore a bun secured at the nape of her neck, thigh highs with attached garter straps, short sleeved button up top that fit tightly over her round breasts, and a short skirt pulled up over her tight ass. Her hands were on the bed as she sat on her knees, and her exposed ass was pushed out for his viewing pleasure, almost cat-like. Christopher imagined what they would look like engaged in a kiss, and as soon as his thoughts turned into images in his head, they began to act out what he'd thought.

Pony, as he was referring to her in his mind, gently licked the bottom lip of Buns and their tongues began to dance with one another, glistening in the dim light of the room. Christoper's cock throbbed against his pj pants, making them uncomfortably tight. Buns wrapped her hand three times around Pony's ponytail, jerked it back, and kissed her neck, and Pony moaned deliciously. Christopher hadn't even been aware that he pulled his pj pants down a bit and began stroking himself. As he noticed, so did the two women. They stood from the bed and dropped to their knees almost in unison, crawling like two hungry female lions toward him. His mind went blank seeing them coming toward him. An almost nervous feeling filled his head, and they stopped crawling, rearing back on to their calves and looking up at him, sweetly. He watched them for a moment, and they watched him back. Images of Pony licking his cock with that beautiful pink tongue while Buns wrapped her hair around her hand again made most of the nervousness wash away. It also caused the women to react to his needs. Pony pulled his pj pants down a little more and licked him from his balls all the way up his shaft, flicking her tongue over his head. He moaned loudly and pulled Buns close to kiss him, her hand still wrapped awkwardly around Pony's ponytail.

The kiss was phenomenal though, and Christopher almost forgot his name. A whole scene played out in his head in seconds and before he could take a breath, Pony had his erect member deep in her throat. Buns moved under Pony, and licked her pussy. The smell of sex filled the room along with moans of pleasure from the two women. When Christopher felt like he was about to cum, Pony stopped sucking him and moved to the bed, lying on her back. Her beautiful breasts jutted perfectly upward. Buns stood and kissed Christopher deeply, allowing him to taste Pony's juices. They tasted sweet, but almost fake. Like when someone mixed scents together to smell like banana but it never really smells like actual fresh banana. Buns crawled over Pony's body, and straddled her face. Christopher noticed that the women seemed almost robotic in their behavior. They didn't put their hands on one another, never rubbed the skin of the other woman they were engaged with. Pony's hands moved to Buns ass and massaged into her skin and Buns played with Pony's hair as she rode her face, moaning loudly. Were they doing that before or did they start touching because he had thought about it? His mind raced with questions but the sounds were so distracting that his cock began to throb uncontrollably.