She bloody well tries!

As you walk around relatively near your office, it does not go beyond your notice that Terri is scanning every pathway and alley very intently, and clicking her tongue in annoyance. That changes however, when you get close to her outlet's street. With a strength that you weren't expecting, she drags you all the way around to the other end of the block, and shoves you into what looks like an outlet that's in the middle of renovations. You try to fight her off, but the door grate slams shut, sealing the two of you inside.

Your eyes adjust quickly to the light coming in from the windows at the top of the entrance, just in time for you to see that Terri's snaked her arms through her straps, pulled her top down and is undoing her bra, all the while advancing towards you, licking her lips menacingly. Dropping it onto the to-go bag on the dusty floor, she saunters up to you, takes your hands and puts them onto her naked breasts. With a predatory grin that belongs on purple skin, Terri reaches up and pulls your head down, to kiss you deeply.

Your fingers squeeze out of reflex, and when her lips part, your tongue darts forwards as well. Your brain is screaming at you to stop, but your body is refusing to listen. It's like it's become so used to having sex, that it will run on autopilot, despite your best wishes for it not to. Removing your hands from her chest, you slide them around and yank her towards you, crushing her breasts into your work shirt, while backpedaling until your back hits some sort of counter or workbench or something.

Breaking away from you, Terri slides her tongue down your neck and quickly undoes your zipper, while you lean back and support yourself on whatever it is that you're against. "Terri... oh, Terri...," you moan softly, feeling her lips wrap and seal behind your cockhead. "Fuck, we shouldn't be doing this..."

"Why not?" she slurps, running her tongue behind your glans. "It's our third date after all."

While part of you always wondered if anyone actually did follow that kind of convoluted dating logic, the part of you that deals with the present rears its head. Leaning down, you can just reach her breasts with your hands and return the pleasure she's giving you by sliding them along and tweaking her nipples between your fingers. The corners of her lips curl upwards in a smile, while her tongue tickles your urethra. You return your own smile and rest your hand on her head, directing her where she needs to go.

Devoutly, she bobs along your cock, peppering your shaft with light kisses, and using her fingers to tightly squeeze pleasure to you in sections. Her blowjob feels like a mix of Charlie's, the technical know-how of extracting an orgasm, and the tenderness of a lover's affections. You let out another low moan, when a loud banging comes from the door grate. "Hey, who locked the door? Mike, you got the key?"

Uh-oh.