A courier without panties

The downpour came on suddenly, turning the street into one solid wall of water. I'd just picked up my order at the door—a tall paper bag with the Maru-sushi logo—and was about to close the door when I noticed the delivery girl in a light yellow windbreaker and shorts standing on the porch, helplessly watching the torrents of water fall from the sky. Her scooter lay forlornly wet by the curb. "Come in and wait it out," I suggested, retreating further into the hallway. "It's been such a blast for an hour." She hesitated for a second, then stepped inside. The hallway immediately smelled of rain, asphalt, and something sweet—probably her perfume. I closed the door. Now we were standing alone in my bachelor apartment: me barefoot, in shorts and a T-shirt, and she soaking wet. Her thin windbreaker clung to her figure, and I couldn't help but notice her neat breasts, visible through the wet fabric, and her flat stomach. She pulled off her windbreaker, and I almost cursed out loud. Underneath, she was wearing only a short, white T-shirt without a bra. Soaking wet, it had become almost transparent, and I could clearly see the outlines of her nipples and the dark semicircles. The girl noticed my gaze, blushed, and covered herself with her hand. Drops of water trickled from her short, dark hair onto her collarbones, lower, right into her cleavage. “At least give me a towel,” she said quietly, looking somewhere at the floor. I brought a large bath towel. She took it, but instead of wrapping herself up, she suddenly looked up at me. Her gaze was direct, searching, and completely at odds with the embarrassment she'd felt a second ago. She set the towel aside. “Actually, I’m cold,” she said almost in a whisper, but in that whisper there was such a frank appeal that my heart sank. I moved closer. My hands found their way to her waist. The T-shirt was cold and damp, and the skin beneath it was hot, practically scalding. She didn't pull away, only tilted her head back slightly, and I brushed my lips across her neck, where the vein pulsed. She smelled of rain and caramel. My fingers slid under the wet fabric and found her firm breasts. Her nipples instantly hardened beneath my palms. She breathed softly into my ear, and the sound sent a shudder through me. I pulled her T-shirt over her head. Now she stood before me, bare to the waist, and the sight was breathtaking: small, perfectly formed breasts, wet skin glistening in the dim light of the hallway. Meanwhile, she unbuttoned her shorts, and they fell to the floor. She was wearing no panties. Only a neat, dark strip of hair at the bottom. I couldn't help but admire her—her waist flared smoothly toward her hips, the lines so feminine, so inviting, that my groin ached with tension. She stepped toward me and pulled my shorts down herself. My erection rose to a firm, erection. Her cool fingers closed around it, and she slowly ran her hand up and down, exploring, getting used to it. Then she took a step back, leaned against the wall, and spread her thighs slightly, inviting. I grabbed her under the buttocks, she wrapped her legs around me, and I, pressing her against the wall, slowly entered until I reached the hilt. Oh my god... She was tight, hot, and incredibly wet inside. Her walls tightly gripped my cock, as if pulling me deeper. I paused for a second, letting her adjust, and then began bukvoeb.run rhythmic thrusts. With each movement, her breathing grew louder, short moans escaped her lips, her nails dug into my shoulders. I increased the pace, and she responded with counter-movements of her hips, pressing ever harder. "Harder..." she whispered hoarsely. "More..." I was already pounding into her like a jackhammer. The only sounds in the hallway were our quickened breaths, the wet smacks, and her intermittent cries. She suddenly arched her back and tensed up, her body shaking violently. She came, loudly and violently, and I felt everything inside her pulsate, squeezing my cock like a vice. It was insanely arousing. I lowered her onto the ottoman next to the mirror. She was still dazed, her eyes half-closed. I turned her over and placed her on her knees. The view from behind was stunning: a perfectly curved ass, a wasp-like waist. I entered her again, this time from behind. She was so wet that my cock moved with a squelching sound, which only added to the thrill. She braced herself with her hands on the ottoman seat, and I held her hips and thrust hard onto my cock. The pace increased, her breathing became ragged, and a familiar fire began to flare up in her lower abdomen. “I’m coming now...” I croaked, warning. She didn't respond, just thrust her buttocks back harder, and it washed over me. I pulled out at the last moment, and my sperm splashed in hot spurts across her back and round buttocks. My ears were ringing, my heart was pounding like crazy. We took a couple of minutes to recover. Then she smiled, looking at my satisfied expression, and finally picked up the towel she'd put aside. “By the way, my name is Katya,” she said, wiping her back. “Nice to meet you,” I replied, still breathing heavily. “Dima.” It continued to rain outside, but now I was even glad about it.