It happens every time. Send a few employees to a work conference in another city for 3 days, and all respectable behavior goes right out the window. Work trips like this always devolve into chaos. What started as occasional flirty banter back at the office, eventually culminates in drunken sex in a far away hotel room.

Day one of the conference there were suggestive notes written on the backs of meeting agendas, extra rounds of drinks at the networking cocktail hour, and messy dancing at the corporate sponsored party. A late night trip to the corner drugstore yielded a box of condoms, purchased with the best of intentions. They practiced “mostly” safe sex for round one, but then round two happened in the shower, where the hot steam clouded their judgement, and washed most of the evidence down the drain. Round three happened in the middle of the night, starting in bed, moved to the coffee table, and finishing up against the window. They fell back into bed still half drunk, letting their combined juices dry wherever they dribbled and pooled. The next morning round four happened up against the hotel room door just before they left. She put a panty liner in her underwear and embraced the squish during the morning meetings.

At lunch they joined their other colleagues and played it cool, not hinting at anything, thinking they had gotten all the crazy energy out of their system. Then dinner rolled around, wine was consumed, and that knowing look returned to their eyes. This time they ended up in her room with another bottle of wine, and thrashed it the same way they had done in his. Knowing it was their last night they skipped the pleasantries and jumped right into the dirty stuff. They tried every position they could think of, leaving their mark on almost every surface in the room, bouncing around like a pin ball machine, fucking and sucking, leaking and dripping.

The next morning he scrambled back to his room and packed everything up just in time to leave bags at the front desk and get to the closing event. As they listened to the speaker they kept glancing at each other with a look of “are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Desperate to connect one more time before heading to the airport, they discreetly slipped out to the hallway. The convention center bathrooms were too big and too risky, but they spotted a door marked “Janitorial Storage.” They snuck in and closed the door behind them.

Without hesitation she wrapped her arms around him and slobbered her mouth against his. While making out, he unfasten his pants and pushed them down. She was glad she had skipped the panties today. She spun around, flipped her skirt up in back, and leaned forward on the shelving of cleaning supplies. His hard-on found its target like it had so many times before, and he dove into her. Grabbing her hips he started that rhythmic motion she had responded to so well. He watched her ass jiggle with every thrust, knowing her tits were swaying like they had last night.

With her right hand on her clit, rubbing herself with intention, she managed to reach an orgasm just as he began grunting and pumping into her. The sexual ecstasy that flowed through them temporarily blanked out all other cares in the world. As they regained their senses she looked for something with which to wipe herself. The shelving held bottles of cleaners and tools, but no tissues or towels. Then she spotted the mop bucket.

As he slipped out of her, she stepped over and squatted. Blobs of his fluid dripped out of her, splashing down into the dirty water. She squeezed and pushed, expelling as much as she could. Then, out of habit, she began peeing, adding her strong stream to the murky brew, and frothing up some foam to the surface. He chuckled at her shameless relief. It was not the first time he had watched her pee.

There was a sweatshirt hanging on a hook on the back of the door. He wiped his cock dry and handed it to her. She used a sleave to wipe the remaining wetness from her crotch. When she was done she hung it back on the hook and the two of them left the closet. It was time to retrieve their bags, fly home, and return to their normal lives. The last remaining evidence of their frantic affair swirled on the surface of that gray soapy water.