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