Doing The Right Thing

The girls nodded.

Then Hannah popped up between them, the third friend hanging back wearily as if she was allergic to DJs.

"Oh hey, are you two trying to steal my DJ? He's a naughty boy! I don't care, though," Hannah said and burped.

The girls exchanged a look and then smiled.

"No, just saying goodbye, we are returning to our rooms now. Are you sure you're okay to stay here?"

Hannah looked at Brett and bit her lip like a child looking at a massive ice cream. She nodded.

"You aren't worried about your boyfriend? Or the fact you just met this guy?" the girl on the left said in Hannah's ear, but it was loud enough for Brett to hear.

It was good to see these girls looking out for their friend, even if it might cost him an anal fuck.

"My boyfriend says that I should let him have sex with other women, but then he says he's always too tired to do anything with me, and he told me to lose weight," she thundered, "so he can fuck off, I've been a good girl for a long time, so fuck him."

Brett and the girls exchanged a look.

"What?" Hannah asked.

"Nothing," Brett said, "but if you don't want to hang around or do anything, that's fine."

Hannah looked more hurt than anyone he'd ever seen, "you don't want me?"

"What? No, I didn't say that, but I think you've had a bit too much to drink, and it's late, and you don't have to sleep with me because of a row with your boyfriend."

Hannah's eyes filled with tears.

"It's not just a row, it's... he's a dick, a real dick, I've been so loyal, and what has it gotten me? Nothing."

"Hannah, we're going back, come with us." the girl on the right said.

Hannah looked at Brett like he'd betrayed her. It was a childish drunken look, but it was intense and heart-wrenching. Her body language changed, and she seemed to shrink in on herself.

"Fine, whatever, I get it," she said, "too big, too tall, too fat, story of my life."

Then she turned and started to walk away. The girls looked at Brett, shrugged, and then hurried after her.

Brett watched them leave. He couldn't believe how drastic the change in Hannah's body language was. She was now hunched as she walked, a shadow of her former self.

Brett sighed and tried to block out the disappointment. It was probably for the best; she was too drunk anyway. Maybe one day, there would be another giant girl in the club.

He couldn't get Hannah's devastated look out of his head. He felt really guilty.

He thought about her for the next hour of his shift; he was horny and frustrated. But he figured it had all started to go wrong with the champagne, which was Tony's fault.

"Hey Brett, there's this drunk girl out front on her own. She's in a mess, too drunk to come in the club, but she says she knows you. Wanna come up and get rid of her for me?"

Brett looked at the head doorman, Stefan, in confusion. He had no idea who would be outside waiting for him, drunk at this time of night.

"You sure they know me?"

"Well, she says she knows the DJ," Stefan said. "You are the DJ."

Stefan shrugged.

"Tony, cover for me," Brett called out and headed upstairs. Now that the peak had passed, the club was starting to thin out of customers.

No one was waiting in the doorway, but he could tell something had just happened by the way the three doormen were laughing.

"The Incredible Hulk is over there," one doorman pointed.

He looked over and saw someone who could only be Hannah throwing up into one of the large planters that lined the street.

"She was just going full Karen with us," the other doorman laughed.

"Hulk smash," the other said.

"Know her?" Stefan said next to him.

"Yeah," he said.

Brett crossed over the street and went over to her. She was in a state; her leggings were in place, but the bodysuit was unclasped at the bottom and was untucked and hanging over the back of her leggings. He could also tell even from behind that at least one of her tits was hanging out of her halter top.

She was so drunk she was swaying and had thrown up so much that her hair had stuck to her face. There was sick over her chin and over her halter top as well. He felt guilty for having given her the champagne.

He put his hand on her back and rubbed gently.

"Hey, you okay?"

She groaned.

"Fuck," she gasped, then looked up and saw him. She smiled a vast drunken smile.

"Hey, Mr handsome DJ," she said, slurring badly. "You want to do nasty things to my bottom that will hurt."

He blinked at her.

"Guess what?" She said in a stage whisper, "I'm going to let you do them."

He couldn't help but smile.

"Did I tell you I was a model? I don't remember if I did or not."

"Yes, you did," he said.

"Oh good," she said and threw up again, the sick hitting the pavement.

He held her hair back from her face and rubbed her back. When she finished, she was shivering.

He took off his suit jacket and put it around her. It was a tight fit, but he managed to button it up so that her tits were no longer on show.

"I can't wait to show you what I can do with my mouth," Hannah slurred.

He shook his head and pulled her upright. She leaned on him and giggled.

"We need to get you inside until I finish djing."

He moved her towards the doorway to the club. Stefan stepped in front of him to stop him.

"She's not coming back in, not in that state."

"I'll just sit her in the corner of the DJ booth until I finish."

"It's not going to happen; the she-hulk stays out here," one of the doormen behind Stefan said.

The other laughed, but Stefan remained serious.

"Come on, man, I can't leave her out here," Brett said.

"She called me a cunt," the doorman, who laughed, said.

"You are," Hannah said in a slurred voice.

"Shhh, not now," Brett said.

The doorman, who had been called a cunt looked at Brett as if to say he was nuts.

"She's a vulnerable female who doesn't know where she is; she can't stay out here. I have her hotel address here," Brett said, pulling out the piece of paper he'd been given.

"Look at the state of her," Stefan said, "There's no way I can let her in! What happens if she goes to the toilet and passes out, then what?"

"She can sit at the back of the DJ booth, and then if she needs the toilet, I'll Take her to the disabled; I'll use my key."

"Why do you care so much?" Stefan asked, looking Hannah up and down and not looking impressed with what he saw. "She looks like she's eaten two of you."

"Maybe that's why she's puking so bad," one of the doorman said.

"That's not fucking funny," Brett said, angry.

"Relax, man, I'm just joking," the doorman said.

"Look, I know her, okay? And I can't just leave her out here in this state. What if she was your sister or daughter?"

"I'd never let my daughter go out dressed like that. She'd deserve what she got," Stefan said.

"Stefan, please. Can't you see she's in a mess? She's been messed with enough tonight already. Can you just bend the rules for once?"

"Fuck sake," Stefan said and stepped aside, "take her inside, but you owe me."

"Thank you," Brett said and guided Hannah inside.

The other two doormen looked at Brett like he was a mixture of the biggest asshole in the world and an idiot.

"You're going to catch something, you know that, don't you?" One of the doormen said.

Brett ignored him.

Hannah leaned on him heavily. She was taller than him by a good four inches, but he led her back downstairs and around the edge of the club until he had her safely hidden in the back of the DJ booth. He grabbed the empty champagne bucket and put it on the floor in front of her in case she threw up again.

Then he got a bottle of water from the bar and made her take it.

She sipped it.

"I really liked that finger in my ass," she slurred at him.

"Shhh," he said and went back to mixing.

"What the fuck happened to her," Tony asked.

"A bottle of lanson champagne," Brett replied with a frown.

Tony laughed.

After a few songs, he turned back to her, and she was fast asleep. Her head was leaning against the wall, and her mouth was open. Her tongue looked yellow from all the vomit, and from his angle, he could just see the edge of one of her nipples.

His cock stiffened as he looked at her, imagining what her ass would have felt like on his cock.

"Hey man, it's almost empty. I can finish up. If you want to get Sleeping Beauty back to her hotel?"

"Who said she's going back to her hotel?" Brett replied with a wink.

"What? Really? Are you gonna fuck her? She's huge! And In that state?"

Brett laughed.

"You really are a nasty bastard, aren't you?"

"Nah, I'm just fucking with you, she's hot, but she's too out of it."

Tony looked relieved.

"Good, I mean not that it would bother me, I just thought..."

"I know, it's cool."

He looked back at Hannah's tits again and his cock hardened again.

Brett packed up quickly, handed over to Tony, and went back to Hannah. She was still asleep on the booth floor.

He checked to see if Tony was playing the music and then unbuttoned the jacket he'd put on her. Making sure he was between Tony and Hannah in case he looked around. The vomit smell got stronger as he opened the jacket, and he figured he'd have to get the it dry-cleaned.

He forgot all about that when he saw that both of her huge round tits were hanging out.

His cock stiffened, and his eyes widened.

"Oh fucking hell," he said, "you are amazing."

He reached out and cupped the tit that looked the cleanest. It was huge and heavy, like a balloon full of sand. He pinched her nipple, and she moaned a little in her sleep. He rubbed his thumb over it, and it stiffened obediently.

He Checked over his shoulder to see Tony was still busy; seeing that he was, Brett moved his hand around the root of her tit, where it connected to her chest. The heavy flesh hung over his hand, but he closed up his hand hard, crushing her tit in hand. The tit changed shape, swelling up as if it were a pimple about to burst.

Hannah moaned and moved a little.

"You are fucking perfect," he gasped and let go.

Her tit flopped back into place. Reluctantly he used one hand to pull out the halter top and the other to slide each tit back into place.

She moaned and moved slightly.

He closed up the jacket.

"Wake up, Hannah, time to go," he said, tapping her cheek gently.

She didn't respond.

"Come on," he said a little louder and a little firmer, this time shaking her shoulders.

She opened her eyes, but they were unfocused.

"Huh?" She said.

Then her eyes focused, and she recognised him.

"Hey, Mr Dj, you are real. I thought you might be a dream," she giggled.

Then, she ran her tongue around her mouth.

"Oh, I don't feel so good."

"I'm real," he said, "can you walk?"

"Uh, maybe, where are we going?" she asked.

He stood her up, and she almost toppled over, but he caught her.

"My place to get you cleaned up," he said. It was a lie, but she nodded and smiled.

"I'm very tired," she said.

He took her arm and walked her towards the door out of the DJ booth.

"Wait," she said and bent down to the champagne bucket.

"It's empty," she said.

He laughed, "Well done. You drank the whole thing. Now, let's get you somewhere you can sleep."

"I can't wait," she said and tried to kiss him.

She was sloppy and drunk, her tongue was slimy with vomit, and she stunk of sick. He pushed her off gently.

"Let's get you cleaned up first," he said and guided her out of the club.

It was only Stefan outside the club now. He looked at Brett with pity.

"No taxi is gonna take her in that state," he said.

"I'll walk her back," Brett said.

Stefan frowned.

"Need a hand?"

"Nah, her hotel isn't far," Brett said.

Stefan nodded, "Just be careful. Make sure you hand her over to her friends. You don't want to get accused of anything."

Brett nodded and set off with Hannah.

The walk to her hotel would take ten minutes, and they set off in that direction. But when they got to the end of the street, he turned left and left again, so they were walking in the opposite direction on a street parallel to the one the club was on. Towards his apartment.

They walked for about a minute, and then she started to stumble.

"Can't," she slurred, "too tired."

"Just another minute," he said. "Not far now."

She shook her head and stopped.

"Okay, we can stop here," he said.

It was a long side street, mostly residential, with some small shops. No one was around.

"Where are we, Mr Dj?" Hannah asked, looking around.

"On the way home," he said.

"Oh, okay," she said, leaning against the wall. "did I tell you I am a model?"

"You did, yeah. Do you do any underwear modelling?"

She grinned and wagged her finger at him. "Naughty boy, maybe I have. Maybe I did photos in sexy costumes too."

He laughed, "Really?"

She nodded.

"Are there photos on the internet?"

She shrugged, "I have some on my purpleport. Check it out."

"Do you ever wear heels?" He asked.

She shook her head, "Nope, too tall in heels, don't like it."

He nodded.

"I think you'd look great in them, your legs and ass would look incredible."

She smiled and bit her lip. "Really?"

"Yeah," he said.

"You are sweet, I like you."

"How long are you staying here?" he asked.

"Only two more days, then home; oh shit, I forgot to text my boyfriend; he will be so pissed at me, he will hate me; he hates me already, I think."

"It's too late to text him now," Brett said. He'll be asleep. Text him in the morning."

"Right, yes. Good idea."

She leaned back against the wall and sighed.

"Is it far?"

"Not far; you said earlier your boyfriend is always too tired to have sex with you. Are you boring in bed or something?"

"Did I say that?"

"You did."

"Well, he does think that says I'm too lazy, but he just doesn't get it."

"Get what?"

"How self-conscious I feel sometimes, you know. I kind of need a lot of reassurance and stuff," she said, then seemed to lose her train of thought.

"I'm very tired. Is it far? Why did we stop?"

"Not far, come on," he said.

They made it another minute before Hannah stumbled again.

"Wait," she said and sat on the pavement.

"I don't feel so good."

He sat beside her..

"You are very handsome," she slurred.

"And your tits are magnificent," he said.

"You haven't seen them. Yet." She giggled.

"I like the sounds of the yet."

She bit her lip.

"Why do you like me? You are cute; you could have gotten with the other models if you wanted. They all said you were cute, but I was the one who got you. Why are you single? Are you single?"

"That was a lot of questions, but yes, I am single."

Hannah bit her lip, "I have a boyfriend."

"So you've said he doesn't sound very nice."

"He doesn't want me to do modelling, he says I'll look silly, he doesn't understand it's what I've always wanted. So much."

"Is that so you'll feel accepted? If you are a model, then you must be pretty and can't be bullied anymore. Perhaps it will erase all the bullying you got for being tall and big when you were younger."

She frowned at him.

"How do you know I was bullied?"

"Was it bad?"

She nodded and looked down.

"Ready to walk again?" he asked.

"I don't know," she said.

He got to his feet and stood in front of her.

"I'll help you."

"Okay," she said and put her hands out.

He held them, and she started to get to her feet.

"You are very strong," she said.

He didn't respond.

"I am not a fat cow, not like everyone says," she said as she got to her feet.

She bit her lip and leaned against him.

"I am tired. Can I sit down?"

"We haven't gone anywhere yet."

"When I was young, I dreamed of being a model because then I could be famous and pretty, and all the bullies would stop, you know? And no one would call me names. No one would say I was a giant or a freak. And my boyfriend would love me, and we would get married and have kids and live happily ever after. That's all I want: someone to love me. But I have a boyfriend, and he doesn't want to love me."

She sniffed, and tears rolled down her cheeks.

"My tits are too saggy, and I've never got my tummy flat, no matter how much I've starved myself."

"Come on, let's keep going, and anyway I think you are hot how you are. Even covered in sick."

"Have I been sick?"

He laughed.

"Yes, quite a lot."

"Oh," she said.

He helped move her along, taking more of her weight on his shoulder.

"I wonder what I drank?" she slurred.

He didn't respond.

They walked on.

She tripped a couple of times, but each time he steadied her.

As they walked, he undid her jacket and moved the hand that was holding her side up so that it was just underneath her tit. He gently edged the finger inside the halter bodysuit so that her breast ended up hanging slightly over his hand. Her tit was hot, sweaty and heavy. It was the most erotic thing he'd ever felt.

She didn't seem to notice.

She was leaning on him and mumbling about something, but he couldn't understand what she was saying.

When they were halfway down the street, she suddenly stopped and pulled away from him.

"Oh god," she said. "I'm gonna..."

She staggered over to a nearby car and threw up on the front tyre. She stayed on her feet with her colossal ass facing him, the back of the bodysuit still hanging down behind her like a little tail.

He moved in and ran a hand over her ass and then over her back before holding back her hair.

She threw up a few more times, mostly water, and he rubbed her back.

"Someone has been sick here," she said, then giggled.

"You," he said.

"What? No, no, I was fine, I am fine," she said and stood up straight. She looked at him and smiled as if seeing him for the first time in years.

"Hello," she said.

"Hello, let's go."

She bit her lip and nodded, her eyes unfocused. "Do you just like me 'cause you think you can fuck me?" she slurred.

"No, no, not just that, you are hot. Come on."

He took her arm and walked her slowly to the end of the street.

"You are really sweet," she slurred.

She tripped and fell forward, but he caught her.

She giggled.

"Sorry."

He didn't respond, just helped her stand up.

"This is fun. Is this our first date?"

He didn't reply; he just kept walking. She was getting heavier and slower, and he wondered if this was really worth all this effort.

"I've never had a DJ on a date before. Are you hoping to get lucky and do bad things to me? Naughty, naughty, Mr DJ."

"Something like that."

"I'd let you too; you could do bad, bad things to me. But I have a boyfriend, you know?"

"Yeah, I know," he said with a sigh, moving the hand under her breast slightly higher so that more of her sweaty flesh was on his hand.

"Is my hotel far?" she asked. "I have a model shoot in the morning. I bet you didn't know I was a model, did you? But I am. I am a proper paid model. Can we stop for a bit? I want to lie down."

"In a moment, we are almost there," he lied.

"Good," she said and leaned heavily against him, "I'm so tired. I don't think you can fuck me, though; sorry, not tonight. I don't feel good. Another night, though, if you like."

He smiled and nodded, then guided her left at the next turning, finally into the street where he lived.

It was a short street with only about ten houses, and he lived in the middle house. It had a tiny yard that backed onto a small patch of grass which led onto a small wood.

He walked her to his front door and opened it.

"Welcome to my hotel," she said with a drunken slur and a wave of her arm. "I should invite you in for coffee, but you need to be quiet; you can't wake up my mum and dad. They have work in the morning. Shhhh, we have to be quiet. If they see us together, they will get the wrong idea; they will think we are having sex, and we are not. Well, not now, anyway. Maybe another night if we are lucky."