Came on my Coworker’s Face at a Convention: Part 4 [MF]

*These TL;DRs are getting long! To catch up:*
[Part 1](https://www.reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/7bibiw/came_on_my_coworkers_face_at_a_convention/)
[Part 2](https://www.reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/7bm2mw/came_on_my_coworkers_face_at_a_convention_part_2/)
[Part 3](https://www.reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/7cweon/came_on_my_coworkers_face_at_a_convention_part_3/)

**Part 4**

The hotel bar was one of those big, open-atrium style spots that only get built in brand new hotels. A giant, diamond-shaped bar occupied the center with tables and chairs strewn seemingly at random around the rest of the room and a line of more private booths along the far wall. While a few of the C-levels had begged off when we got back to the hotel from dinner, there were still five or six of us who rolled into the bar together after our fancy dinner. The sales guy who made us do retsina shots had forced a couple more shots on the group before we left the restaurant and I was definitely feeling them by the time we got back.

If you’ve ever been to one of these big corporate conventions, the hotel bars are frequently packed with attendees until closing time. Almost everyone there is still rocking a name badge over their suit coat, polo shirt or startup tee. Additionally, with the amount of young folks of both genders who spent every night “networking” (aka drinking) at this convention, I would have to imagine that Samantha and I were not the only ones having a hell of a lot of fun.

Samantha was sitting at one of the booths with a couple of our sales reps. I spotted her across the room before she saw me. I know I’ve described her a few times before but indulge me one more. She was laughing at a story someone at her table had told, her shoulder-length, red hair dancing. She had taken off the blazer she was wearing in the photos she had sent me earlier that night and was just wearing the sheer, black blouse with a couple of the top buttons undone. Despite this, her breasts were straining the structural integrity of the remaining buttons. Now that we were off the clock (or as off the clock as convention production teams ever get) she had rolled up the sleeves of the blouse, showing off the lower half of a colorful full-sleeve tattoo that covered her entire left arm. Her legs were crossed beneath the bar table, the black pencil skirt riding ever so slightly above the knee. One of her heels dangled from an idly bouncing foot as she launched into a story of her own, keeping the young sales reps in stitches. I followed the bouncing foot up her leg, remembering that she was still probably not wearing anything under that skirt.

“What’s up, gang?” the sales guy who had been feeding me shots all night said as we approached the table. Everyone let up a small cheer as this guy was particularly well-liked and also had the company card. Our semi-drunken party merged with theirs and we somehow managed to squeeze into the booth together. Samantha shot me a dusky look as I sidled in across the table from her.

There were jokes, there were shots, the night was starting to turn into a blur. At one point one of the higher ups was talking to Samantha and said, “Seems like analbeaver is really cracking the whip on you guys, huh?” to which Samantha replied, “Oh yeah, he rides us hard, but it’s worth it.”

I’ve never come closer to doing an actual spit-take in my entire life.

The impromptu party raged on. Around midnight I had reached (or if I’m being honest, probably surpassed) the amount of drinks I could have without feeling like absolute death in the morning. I begged off and, in a moment of brazen drunkenness, told Samantha she should probably be heading to bed, too, as we had an early morning. She glared at me in mock protest and said, “Well boys, do as the boss-man says, I guess…”

We said our goodbyes and swerved our way to the elevators. There were still so many people from work wandering the halls that we didn’t dare touch, much less look at eachother. Despite that, the sexual tension between us was palpable. We, unfortunately, ended up in an elevator with several other people so Samantha and I had a very strange, drunken conversation about things we needed to prep for the final day of the convention.

The moment the elevator doors closed after we had reached our floor, Samantha reached out and grabbed my semi-hard cock through my pants, giving me a sultry, knowing look. Her room was closer than mine and by the time we got through the door, the drunken, animal lust we felt for eachother was impossible to contain.

I ran my hand up under her skirt, grabbing a handful of her ass as we kissed deeply. She hurriedly undid the buttons of my dress shirt and ran her fingers through my chest hair, letting out a slight whimper as I moved us toward the bed. As she undid the buckle on my belt I tore open her blouse and pulled down her bra, letting her fabulous tits spring free. My cock was fully erect now as she ran her hand up and down the shaft while I alternated between kissing her neck and licking her light pink nipples. There was no time for games.

She was a picture, her skirt hiked up around her waist, her blouse open and magnificent tits spilling out of her bra, she hadn’t even managed to get her heels off. I had to have her. There was a fleeting moment in my drunken brain where I remembered that condoms existed but that all left my mind as she grabbed my cock and rubbed it up against her soaking slit.

“Fuck me.”

I entered her slowly, pushing ever so slightly deeper with every thrust. Samantha moaned, the pale skin of her cheeks and chest was flushed. I pushed deeper, about halfway in. She groaned and reached down, putting a hand on my ass.

“You’re teasing me, good God!”

I smiled and pulled almost all the way out before pushing back in, deeper and deeper. She shuddered and put her legs around me, pulling me even further in. I managed to get leverage on her and pull almost all the way out before sinking my full length into her soaking wet pussy.

Apparently that was all it took for her. She screamed out in ecstasy, grabbing me with her arms and legs and holding on for dear life as she came hard on my cock. As the waves of her orgasm subsided I began thrusting harder. Samantha was letting out little yelps of pleasure as I fucked her, holding her by her hips and pulling myself into her.

I’ll admit I had a little bit of the whiskey dick at this point which probably enabled me to last longer than I otherwise would have. We moved through positions, I put her legs up over my shoulders, kissing her ankles and playing with her tits as I pounded into her. I flipped her over, she was on her hands and knees on the bed, looking back at me through a veil of firey red hair, her skirt still hiked over her hips, her tits hanging out of her shirt. I ran the head of my cock up and down her slit a couple of times before sinking it into her pussy again, first grabbing her by her hips and then getting a handful of her crimson hair and pulling gently but forcefully.

She liked that. Her pussy clamped down on my cock and she whimpered and moaned through another intense orgasm. That was about all I could take. I started slamming into her with long, hard strokes. As I felt the tension building in my balls I groaned, “Fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

“Yes, yes, yes, yes,” she cried.

At the very last moment, with one deft movement, I pulled my cock out and swiftly rolled Samantha onto her back, shooting load after load of hot cum onto her tits, her shirt and her skirt. She cooed and sighed gently.

“Goddamn, I have been waiting all day for that.”

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/7d4wcb/came_on_my_coworkers_face_at_a_convention_part_4