The hotel desk clerk had his hands full. The convention had him running as he had to deal with room problems and overbookings and who-knows-what else, all while being understaffed. He certainly didn't have time for unusual requests, nor have time to argue with the pretty blond standing across the check-in desk from him.
"Please, it's alright, I promise!" she said. "I just want to surprise him. He'll love it, trust me." Dee had come to surprise her boyfriend early. George didn't expect her until noon, and was probably asleep at this hour. But she knew how to use that pretty face and cute body, and she turned on all the charm she could muster.
So, even though her boyfriend hadn't left word that it was ok (and, of course, that made it against hotel policy), he looked up the name on his computer. Sure enough, the name was there, just as she said. So, putting his job at risk, he programmed an extra key card for her and slid it across the desk, saying quietly "room 1117". Smiling sweetly, she thanked him with a wink.
The clerk went back to tending to the chaos without ever knowing he had misread the room number and sent her to the wrong floor.
In the elevator, she had a naughty thought. Hoping there was no camera in there with her, she lifted her skirt and slid her underwear down to her ankles, the stepped out of them. Slipping them in her purse, she thought "I'm not going to need these, that's for sure". Then, as an afterthought, she unhooked her bra and it, too soon found the dark inside of her purse. Soon, as the thought of months of separation and imminent sexual release filled her mind, she began running her finger over her sensitive button until she felt her insides widen. By the time the elevator door slid aside, she was blushing red and weak-kneed. "Oh, God!" she thought, "Is HE going to get fucked!"
Looking around self-consciously, Dee saw that the hallway was clear. Breathing a sigh of relief, she walked briskly down the row of doors, reading numbers in quick succession. Finally, she saw it: room 1117. Happily, she noted it was a corner room, separated from all the rest by a stairwell on one side and a housecleaning closet on the other. She could let herself go, within reason, without worrying about neighbors.