Page 7 of My Russian Roommate

I check the time when I see she isn’t here and realize that it’s been thirty-five minutes. Something must be wrong. She should have called if she was running late. Wearing just a wife beater and shorts, I toss on my shoes and set out to look for her but I don’t get far. I find her on the first floor of the building getting talked up by a guy my size and about half my age. He has her pinned against the wall beside the door to his apartment, and as I get closer, I see that she looks panic-stricken but is doing her best to not escalate the situation.

I clench my fist and increase my gait, ending up on them in a matter of seconds. Leah is visibly relieved when she turns her head and notices me barreling down on them.

“Hey, I’ve been waiting for you to get home. What’s going on?” I shout at her and the man takes a step away from her. He looks me up and down clearly, trying to determine my threat level. He has no clue just how dangerous I can be. Especially when it comes to what’s mine.

“This guy stopped me on my way to the elevator. I told him I needed to go but…”

“But he thought he would bully you into his apartment. He thought that maybe you’d have a drink or something stronger and loosen up. If not, maybe you’d pass out so he could take advantage of you because that’s what pussies with no game do.”

“What did you call me?” the guy asks and I shove him against the wall.

“I called you a pussy with no game. Am I wrong?”

He balls up his fist and takes a swing, but I catch his hand and squeeze until I hear the cracking of bones. He tries to throw a left but I elbow him in the nose with my left arm while continuing my crushing hold on his right hand.

Blood spills from his nose down his face, but I’m not entirely satisfied with the amount of pain that I’m inflicting so I twist his arm until his shoulder pops out of place. The shrill cry that comes from him sounds inhuman and he drops to his knees begging, “Stop, man, please. Fuck. Shit. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, you’re sorry. A sorry piece of trash. If you even look at this girl again, I will end you. Are we clear?”

“Yeah, yeah man. Just leave me alone so I can go to the hospital. You broke my nose and my hand!”

I flash him a menacing smile and say, “Don’t forget to get that shoulder looked at, too.”

I take Leah by the arm and drag her to the stairs.

“Slow down, I can’t keep up with you,” she whines.

“Be quiet. I’ll deal with you in a minute,” I tell her.

“Wait, what did I do? I was just trying to come home. It’s not my fault…”

“Hush,” I command, my blood boiling as I think of what could have happened to her if I hadn’t shown up when I did. How can she be so careless? “What were you thinking, little girl? Why did you stop to talk to that man? Do you think he’s attractive? Were you afraid to be rude?”

“All I did was say hello when he spoke to me and the next thing I knew…”

“Exactly. That’s how girls end up getting assaulted or worse,” I throw open the apartment door and pull her inside.

She tries to pull her arm away but I won’t have it. She needs to know that what she’s done was dangerous and unacceptable, so I drag her to the bedroom, sit down on the bed, and take her over my knee.

“What are you… Hey, ouch!” she cries as I begin spanking her firm ass.

She wiggles and bucks, trying to escape my grasp on her but it’s no use. I plan to leave her bottom red and sore, something to make this lesson harder to forget. Suddenly, she stops fighting and I watch her response to the next slap.

I think she’s moaning and she gently grinds her crotch against my leg. Testing my theory, I rub the spot that I’ve been spanking then lift my hand and slap it again. Yes, she’s loving this. Fuck me. It’s turning her on, which, in turn, is causing my cock to respond in kind. Having her writhe on my lap is making me want to ride her to the ground.

My huge erection presses against her belly and I ask, “Have you learned your lesson, you bad girl?”

“Y-yes,” she sighs.

“Then get up here and give me a kiss,” I demand.

She gets up and straddles me with her arms around my neck. I want to savor this moment. I need to breathe it all in and commit it securely to my memory. Our first kiss, born in the height of passion where fear, anger, and arousal collide, happens when she places her soft lips inches away from mine and waits for me to pull her in.

I grab her ass with both hands and slam my mouth to hers, swallowing her moans and coaxing her to open up for me.

I push her ass down so my aching erection is pressed against the crotch of her cotton panties. She rubs herself against my shorts and I release my grip on her ass, hands reaching for her tits and massaging them.

A thin layer of clothing is the only thing preventing me from feeling what it’s like to be deep inside her, and it takes all the strength I can summon to keep me from rectifying the situation. It’s too soon. You don’t go from first kiss to intercourse in a matter of minutes. Not when you feel for someone as deeply as I feel for this girl. I need to be satisfied with this erotic lap dance for now along with the knowledge that the desire that consumes me is mutual.

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