Doing The Right Thing

He smiled and walked into his apartment lobby, heading for the stairs. He looked back to see Hannah standing in the middle of the hall. He went back, took her arm, and gently eased her along.

"I'm sleepy," she slurred, "so very sleepy, I've had too much champagne. Have I had too much champagne? Did we have champagne? Did you have any? You can have some of mine if you want."

"Quiet, you'll wake your parents," he said.

"Why are my parents in a hotel?"

He sighed.

"You go up first. I can catch you and also look at your arse all the way up," he teased.

"Oh, it's too big. You'll make me feel too self-conscious. I am very shy, Mr DJ. Did I tell you that?"

Even as she spoke, she started ahead of him up the stairs. He gave her a head start, but his jacket was hanging down, so there wasn't much to see except her thick thighs.

"How's the view?" she said, and he looked up into her smiling face.

"My jacket is covering the interesting parts."

"Is this your jacket? I wondered where I got it. I think someone might have been sick on it."

"Come on, almost there," he said and helped her up the last few steps. "Shower first for you, young lady."

"But I'm tired," she said.

"Nope, you can't sleep until you are cleaned up."

"But I want to sleep," she whined.

He opened the door to his apartment, which opened into the lounge. There were three doors, one for the bathroom, kitchen, and bedroom, and a large window in one wall that overlooked the strip.

"This isn't my hotel room," she said in a confused voice.

"No, but we can clean you up here," he said, taking her into the bathroom.

He closed the door and locked it.

She looked around and frowned.

He slid off the jacket and let it fall to the floor. In the small enclosed bathroom, she seemed so much taller than him.

He turned on the shower and adjusted the temperature.

She was still looking around, confused, as he hooked his thumbs into the right waistband of her shiny leggings and started working them down.

It wasn't easy, they were tight and stuck to her thighs, but he managed to work them down over her ass.

To peel them down off her thighs, he had to crouch down in front of her, his face level with her pussy. He didn't avert his eyes as he pulled the fabric down and exposed her.

It had clearly been a couple of days since she shaved as her plump pussy lips were covered in light brown stubble, and he could smell her pussy, musky and sweaty.

Her leggings bunched around her knees; he looked up at her; she didn't seem to be aware that she was fully exposed to him and was just looking almost blankly down at him.

"Turn around," he said, and she did.

Her massive, round, dimpled ass was now in front of his face. The tail of the bodysuit still hanging down behind her. Though it looked so high up that he couldn't help thinking it must have been almost cutting her in half when it had been stretched between her legs.

Her buttocks were so full that there was no sign of her asshole or pussy, but he could smell them both, the sour sweaty scent of her asshole dominating the musky smell of her pussy.

Unable to resist himself, he gently spanked her ass once. It jiggled like jelly, and she giggled.

Then without asking, he used a hand to part her buttocks and expose her puckered brown asshole. It looked tight, but also her whole crack looked sweaty, red and sore. He had the sudden desire to press his tongue to it, to lick and suck her ass, to eat it like an animal.

"What are you doing?" she slurred, trying to look over her shoulder at him.

"I'm trying to get you undressed for the shower," he said, quickly resuming working her leggings down her calves. He removed her shoes and lifted one leg at a time until the tight leggings were finally in a large, shiny black puddle on the floor.

"Think you can take the top off without my help?" he asked.

"Of course," she said. Turn around, though. I don't want you to see me."

He turned his back and listened as she tried to remove the bodysuit. There was a lot of grunting and sighing but no success.

"I'm stuck," she said.

He turned back around to see Hannah's huge tits exposed with the body suit around under her armpits, the front fastening hanging lewdly between her cleavage. She looked sulky.

"Arms up," he said.

She lifted her arms above her head, and he quickly slid the bodysuit over her head; it joined the leggings on the floor.

Hannah was now completely naked, and she realised it. Her arms moved to try and cover her breasts and pussy.

He took her wrists and pulled her arms down; she resisted weakly.

Her breasts hung free, and he stood back and looked at her as she blushed.

"You look incredible, but shower time," he said.

He helped her into the shower, and she could stand on her own if she held onto the wall.

"This is so weird with you watching me," she said and turned her back on him.

He looked at her for a minute, picked up her filthy clothes and put them in the sink. Then he picked up his bottle of lube and put it on the side. He was quivering with anticipation; she was so incredibly sexy.

She was trying to wash herself, but her balance was unsteady.

He reached into the shower and put his hands on her hips to steady her.

"Oh, hi," she said.

He was momentarily distracted by how vast and soft her hips were.

"Thank you for being so nice to me," she slurred, "you are very nice."

"Ready to get out?" he said, reluctantly letting go of her and grabbing a large clean towel.

She turned around; the shower water was running down her shoulders, over her breasts and then falling down like a waterfall to her feet; it was hard to look away. When he did look up at her face, he saw her looking at him with a silly, drunken smile.

He held the towel up, and she stepped towards him. He wrapped the towel around her. It was a tighter fit than he expected, but he tucked it into itself so it stayed up.

"Bed now?" she asked as he reached past her to turn off the water.

He grabbed the bottle of lube and put it in his pocket.

"You are so fucking hot; I want you so badly," he moaned and kissed her neck; at the same time, he took her hand and put it on his trouser bulge.

"Is that for me?" she slurred, "you are big."

Her fingers explored for a moment and then pulled away.

"You are nice," she said, "but I have a boyfriend; I told you that, right?"

"Shhh, don't worry about him," he said and then kissed her.

Her mouth tasted like stale vomit, but he didn't care. She hesitated for a long moment and then slowly kissed him back, sloppily, her tongue long and sluggish.

"I'm very drunk," she said, pulling away, her words slurred and heavy.

"I know," he said and opened the towel to reveal her wet tits. They looked magnificent as he watched her flesh form goosebumps as the water evaporated off her skin.

"I don't feel well," she said; her face looked pale, and her eyes were unfocused.

He leaned forward and lifted one breast up with one hand and took the nipple into his mouth, and sucked; at the same time, he grabbed a handful of her other breast.

She moaned and moved her head as if confused.

"I have to sit down; I'm cold," she slurred, swaying slightly.

"Time for that anal sex we talked about earlier, do you remember?" he said in a whisper in her ear.

She nodded, her eyes still closed.

"Yeah," she mumbled, "I remember."

"Do you want to?"

"If you want to, I'm good. Sleepy, though. You are very handsome. I think I'm maybe too big for you. Do you think I am too big for you?"

"No," he said, "not at all. Come on."

He took her hand and led her out of the bathroom, back into the lounge and then into his bedroom. He wished he'd tidied it earlier, but he guessed Hannah was beyond caring.

"Where are you sleeping?" Hannah asked as she saw the large double bed. "Looks comfy."

"I'll find somewhere," he said, taking off her towel so that she was fully naked again. He eased her onto the bed and put the lube on the bedside table.

"I want to sleep now," Hannah slurred and yawned, "can I stay here?"

He smiled and took off his clothes quickly, dropping them in a pile.

"Good girl," he said and took her hand and placed it on his cock.

"So big, did you want me to suck you? I am so drunk, so very, very drunk, but I don't think my boyfriend would mind. He doesn't want me, do you want me?"

"Yes, I do," he said, his voice trembling with excitement.

"Okay," she said with a drunk smile.

He knelt next to her and guided her hand up and down his shaft. Her grip was clumsy, but he didn't care. He reached out and put his hand under her head and moved it so that her face was in front of his cock.

She opened her mouth and lowered it onto his tip.

She moved her head slightly up and down, but the motion was so gentle and so sloppy that he wasn't sure it was really a blowjob. Her hand around his base barely moved at all.

"That's good, just like that," he gasped. She didn't need to be good; it was just the sight of her doing this. Her huge powerful body in his bed sucking him was something he'd never forget.

She was making soft little slurping noises as she moved her head; her lips felt loose and wet, and her tongue felt slow.

"That's good," he gasped, "just keep going."

She opened her eyes and looked at him; she seemed surprised to see him.

"You aren't my boyfriend, are you?" she asked. "I don't think I should do this, I'm very confused."

She gave him a silly drunken smile and then shut her eyes again.

She tried to suck him, but her tongue was now so loose and wet that she just kept her mouth open, and dribble slid from her mouth onto the bed.

He moved his hand and stroked her hair and her cheek.

"You are amazing," he said.

Her grip on him was loose, and her breathing was now heavy. He realised she'd passed out and was asleep.

He moved his hips and fucked her mouth for a few moments. He knew it was wrong, but he needed it. He stopped and looked down at her body, savouring the view.

He moaned and moved position, moving down the bed and opening her legs. Her pussy was right in front of his face.

He moaned again and lowered his head, and licked the length of her tightly sealed slit. The stubble caught on his tongue, but the salty taste was exhilarating.

He ran his tongue around her fat pink labia and then pushed the tip inside her. He pushed it deeper and felt her thick, salty taste fill his tongue.

She let out a long sigh, and her hips shifted slightly, opening wider.

Then he moved his tongue up to where he hoped to find her clit.

It took him a moment to find it; when he did, it was small and soft.

He sucked it and rubbed his tongue against it, and she sighed and moaned softly. He looked up, and her features looked confused and in some mental discomfort.

He moaned and kissed her again, this time sliding a finger inside her pussy. She wasn't as tight as he was expecting, but he thought she'd probably still feel good.

His cock was leaking precum, and he wanted her asshole so badly.

He gently reached for the bottle of lube and then took her hips and used them to roll her over onto her side. She groaned but didn't seem to wake up.

He put a pillow under her hips, raising her ass and exposing it to him.

"Oh god," he moaned and knelt behind her as he looked at her massive ass, the cheeks now parted by her position. He squirted a load of the lube onto his two fingers, and he leaned in and gently pressed it against her asshole. She shifted for a moment, probably at the sudden cold.

Then he began working it in around her tightly sealed hole. He moved his fingers in circles and worked the lube around, his fingers gently increasing pressure as they worked around her.

She moaned, and her face twitched, but she didn't stir.

Thinking he had enough for now on her, he leaned back and coated his tip in the slippery lube.

He was so hard it hurt, and his balls were aching for release.

He moved his body alongside hers.

He pressed his tip against her hole and gently pushed his hips forward.

The lube seemed to help, and her ass started to slowly give in to his pressure. More than anything else, he wanted to be inside her asshole. He pressed harder.

Hannah's face was turned to the side. Her eyes were closed, and her breathing was still slow and heavy. She looked so peaceful and trusting.

"Fuck, I can't do this," he said out loud.

But then, her ass gave way, and his tip popped inside her, the feeling was incredible, and he knew it was already too late.

Hannah's expression turned to pain, and he recoiled in disgust with himself.

She moved, and her ass relaxed again, and he was suddenly an inch inside her.

"Fuck," he moaned. Her ass was his for the taking, and she'd never know.

This was wrong, and he knew it. Yet it felt so good, incredible, and the view was just as good. This was everything he'd wanted. This is why he'd walked her home, this was it, this was the prize.

"Fuck," he said in frustration and pulled out of her asshole.

Her ass closed up tightly again.

He couldn't do it.

He wanted it, but he couldn't do it.

"FUCK," he said, and he stood up.

"You fucking tease," he said and slapped her ass, it jiggled like jelly.

He stepped back and pulled the covers over her, then turned his back on her.

He went to the bathroom and saw her filthy clothes. He checked the labels and saw they were hand-wash only. He quickly washed them in the sink, then hung them over the heated towel rail to dry.

He checked on her quickly. She was heavily asleep. He closed the door to the room and lay on the sofa, hoping his frustration would subside enough for him to sleep.

***

"Hello, is anyone there? Where am I?" came Hannah's voice from the bedroom, "Hello, I don't know how I got here, but can I have my clothes, please. Hello, are you in there? Oh shit, my head is killing me."

He sat up. His back was in pieces from the coach. He heard Hannah calling him from his room.

"I'll be right in," he called.

He picked up a glass of water and a couple of paracetamol.

He opened the door and saw her sitting on the side of the bed.

Her hair was messy, her make-up smeared, and her face was a picture of misery.

She was covered in the duvet.

He was disappointed she'd found the courage to cover herself.

"Morning," he said cheerfully.

"Mr DJ?" she said with surprise, then a friendly smile which faded quickly.

She groaned and put her hand on her head.

"I'm gonna die; why is the sun so bright? Oh, my head."

"Here, have these," he said, holding the pills.

"Oh, thank you. Sorry if I stole your bed, I don't know what happened, did we have sex? I can't remember."

He smiled.

"Kind of," he said. "We did a few bits."

She blushed and put a hand to her mouth.

"Fuck, that's bad, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that, did we use protection?"

"We didn't really need to, I was just in your mouth and ass for a bit, but I didn't cum and you passed out."

"In my bottom? Oh wow. I'm so embarrassed. I hope you aren't mad at me. Did I tell you I had a boyfriend?"

She looked really guilty.

"Many times," he said with a laugh.

"I don't remember anything after leaving the club with my friends," she said, closing her eyes and leaning back on the bed. "What happened?"

"You came back, yelled at the doormen, I got you in, and you sat til I finished, and then I brought you here. You threw up a few times, so I had to give you a shower."

Hannah put her head in her hands, "god, this is so embarrassing, I'm never drinking again."

He laughed.

"Don't worry about it, I had a lot of fun."

"I'm so sorry. I can't believe we did stuff, and I can't remember it. Oh my god. What time is it? I'm late. My shoot starts at nine, and I haven't had breakfast."

"It's 7.15. And the girls said your shoot was at eleven."

"Is it? Fuck, I'm always getting my times wrong. She bit her lip and looked at him. "Would you maybe want to get a drink or hang out later or something? You don't have to. I understand if you don't want to. If this was just a drunk thing, then that's cool and stuff, and we can just go our separate ways and forget about it. But, like, if you do want to, you know, that would be nice. It's just you seem nice and not a serial killer; I mean, I was pretty out of it, and you took care of me, so...yeah."

"I'd love to."

She grinned, and he thought she looked beautiful.

"Really?"

"Yes, really."

"You aren't just saying that? Are you just being polite? Cause I know I am kind of not everyone's thing."

"No, not at all, you are a fucking goddess," he said.

Then he stepped in, sat on the bed and kissed her. She hesitated for a moment and then kissed him back.

He put his hands under the covers and took a handful of tit.

She moaned and then pulled away.

"My breath must be terrifying," she said, sounding flustered. I need a shower. Do you have a toothbrush I can use?"

"There is a new one in the cupboard above the sink."

"Thanks, I'll just, yeah, shower."

He nodded and got up.

"Do you have a shirt or t-shirt or something? Something long?" She asked.

He looked at her and smiled.

"Sure, wait there."

"I'm not going anywhere," she called after him.

He went into his room and grabbed the first t-shirt he found, it was a grey Metallica one. It wouldn't be big enough for her, but he picked it up anyway.

He returned to her and gave her the t-shirt; she took it and then circled her fingers to ask him to turn around.

"Sorry," she said. "I'm just so self-conscious and like the whole naked thing. Sorry, I know you saw me last night and that we did stuff, but that was a drunken accident, and I don't remember, so now, I'm just a bit..."

"Shy," he offered, turning around.

"Yeah, and like, you are super hot and cute, and I'm just me, so I'm sorry, and thank you for being so sweet about it. Fuck, my head hurts. I am never drinking again."

He heard the covers drop down and then her pull on the T-shirt. It sounded like an effort.

"Er, do you, like, maybe have a bigger one? Or shorts? Or joggers? Joggers would work."

He smiled and turned to look at her. She was crammed into the t-shirt, her tits almost flattened by the fabric, which stretched over her torso like a second skin; there was a vast swath of her belly visible.

"You are fucking stunning," he said, mesmerised for a moment, then remembering her question, "let me get you something."

He got her some sweatpants. They were an old pair of grey jogging bottoms. He didn't remember where they were from, but they had a drawstring, so he guessed they might work.

He gave them to her, and again, she asked him to turn around. He did.

"I'm going to put your clothes out on the balcony while you shower; they should dry quickly enough."

"They got wet?"

"I washed them, don't worry. I read the label, hand wash only."

She let out a nervous little giggle.

"Okay, thanks, you really didn't need to do that. You are so nice. Most people would have left me to drown in my own vomit."

"Ha, no way, you are way too hot for that. Plus, obviously, I wanted to do bad things to you."

She giggled again and blushed.

"Where on earth did I find you? A girl could get used to this sort of attention."

He smiled and went to the balcony. He took her mostly dry clothes and laid them on the plastic table and chair on the balcony.

When he returned, she was in the shower, and he could hear her singing.

More than anything in the world, he regretted not having pushed deeper when he was in her ass; she'd have never known, and her tightness, her heat. The feeling of power of her lying so helpless with him inside her.

He wanted her, had her, and hadn't finished what he'd started.