Hot Punjabi Bhabhi Badly Fucked by Delivery Boy

So you know how they say you never know what’s waiting behind your own front door, right? Well, this whole punjabi bhabhi fucked situation started out so innocent, with the doorbell buzzing right in the middle of my afternoon tea, and there he was, this delivery boy with my online order, but something about the way he looked at me, all shy but with this hungry little smile, made my stomach flip in a way I hadn’t felt in ages, and when I reached out to take the parcel, our fingers brushed, and girl, that tiny touch sent this electric jolt straight through me, so I don’t know if it was the boredom of my routine or just his fresh, young energy, but I heard myself asking him if he wanted some water since it was so hot outside, and he stepped in, and suddenly the hallway felt way too small, and we were just standing there, breathing a little too heavy, and the next thing I knew, my back was against the wall, his hands rough but gentle on my hips, and I was gasping as he pressed into me, the fabric of my kurti bunching up around my waist, and oh my god, the way he moved was just so eager and desperate, like he couldn’t get enough, and I was clawing at his shoulders, biting my lip to keep from moaning too loud because the neighbors, you know, but honestly, I didn’t care, because every thrust had me seeing stars, and I could feel my knees giving out as he slid deeper, that sweet pressure building and building until I shattered right there against the doorframe, and he followed right after with this shaky, hot breath on my neck, and we just stayed tangled up for a minute, panting, before he grinned, tucked his shirt back in, and said he had other deliveries, but I swear, my legs were still trembling as I watched him leave, and now I can’t even look at a cardboard box without blushing.