Fucking with a young stranger

India was hanging around when the bell rang. She opened the door on some handsome guy whose car was blocked by hers. She tossed him the keys and told him to move it a few feet, but her smile said he'd get more than that. When he came back she yanked his belt open right in the hallway, dropped to her knees, and took his cock into her mouth. She sucked him sloppy and deep, spit running down her chin, looking up like she already knew she owned him. They fucked where they stood. She shoved her tits out of her bra so he could slap them and squeeze, her nipples stiff from the sting. He bent her over the nearest table, yanked her panties aside, and drove his dick into her dripping cunt. India gasped, laughed, pushed back to take every inch. He pounded hard, the table squeaking under them, her juices slick on his shaft every time he pulled out. She got loud—cursing, moaning, telling him not to stop—and came quick, clenching so tight he had to bite his tongue not to finish inside her. He pulled out, stroked fast, and painted her ass and lower back with thick ropes while she kept rocking her hips like she wanted more. They stood there catching their breath, cum sliding down her skin, India grinning like she'd just won something.