I was home alone in my small Mumbai apartment when the bell rang. It was late, and I had ordered food after a long day at work. I opened the door in just a thin tank top and shorts, no bra, nipples poking through the fabric. The delivery guy stood there, tall, dark-skinned, with broad shoulders and a hungry look in his eyes. His name tag said Rahul. He handed me the bag but didn't leave. His gaze dropped straight to my tits.
"You alone?" he asked, voice low and rough.
I nodded. Something in me snapped. I had been horny all week, touching myself every night thinking about getting fucked senseless. "Come in," I said.
He stepped inside and shut the door. Before I could say anything, he grabbed my waist and pulled me close. His cock was already hard against my stomach. "You look like you need a good fucking," he growled.
I dropped to my knees right there in the hallway. I yanked his pants down and his thick desi cock sprang out, veiny and leaking precum. I wrapped my lips around it and sucked hard. He groaned and thrust into my mouth. I gagged but kept going, slurping loudly, spit running down my chin onto my tank top. He fucked my face like he owned it, hands in my hair, balls slapping my chin.
"Get up," he ordered after a minute. He spun me around, bent me over the kitchen counter, and ripped my shorts down. My pussy was dripping wet. He slapped my ass hard, then shoved two fingers inside me. "Fucking soaked, you dirty girl."
He pulled his fingers out and slammed his cock into me in one thrust. I cried out. He was big and stretched me wide. He started pounding me right there, hips slapping against my ass, the counter digging into my stomach. Each thrust made wet sounds echo through the room. I pushed back, meeting every stroke, begging for more.
"Fuck me harder," I moaned. "Use that cock."
Rahul grabbed my hair and yanked my head back. He fucked me like an animal, deep and fast, his balls hitting my clit. My tits bounced out of the tank top. He reached around and pinched my nipples hard while he destroyed my pussy. I came fast, legs shaking, pussy clenching around him, juices running down my thighs.
He didn't stop. He pulled out, flipped me onto my back on the counter, and spread my legs wide. He shoved back in and kept going, watching his cock disappear into my wet cunt. "Look at this desi pussy taking it," he said. "So fucking tight."
I reached down and rubbed my clit while he hammered me. Another orgasm built fast. He leaned over and sucked on my nipples, biting them just enough to hurt. When I came again, I screamed his name. He pulled out, stroked his cock twice, and shot thick ropes of cum all over my stomach and tits. It was hot and sticky, dripping down my skin.
We weren't done. He carried me to the bedroom, threw me on the bed, and flipped me onto all fours. He ate my pussy from behind, tongue fucking me deep, then licked up to my asshole. I moaned into the pillow. He got hard again quickly and pushed back into my pussy, slower this time but still rough.
He spanked me with every thrust, leaving red handprints.
"Call me when you want more cock," he said as he filled me up again later that night. I already knew I would. My body felt used and satisfied, cum leaking out of me onto the sheets.
