Page 9 of My Russian Roommate

I met Jack at a local festival. I thought that he was there with a group of my friends from high school. He had been hanging around them all night. If he hadn’t, I probably wouldn’t have spoken to him. He just struck me as someone who never really committed fully to anything. He was a tall man with a mediocre build like he worked out just enough to not be obese but didn’t go all-in for his health or appearance. He was about six months late for his last haircut and a few years late for a dental visit.

Everything Jack said during our encounter had a veil of sarcasm. If he complimented anyone, there was a disclaimer attached, like telling a woman she looks good for her age or saying that someone is really smart considering the school that they went to.

This lack of sincerity was a major turn-off for me, so when he asked me for my number, I lied and said I was seeing someone. I found out later that he blamed my little white lie for igniting his obsession with me. He didn’t see it as a polite way of letting him know I wasn’t interested. To him, it was a deliberate attempt to undermine his confidence and lead him to believe that some other man was more worthy of my attention.

It was all so crazy after that. He got my number, somehow, and called and texted at all hours of the day. He tracked me down on social media and demanded to know about my relationship with every one of my male contacts. These things were annoying but easily remedied. I changed my number and blocked his social media accounts. He didn’t begin to scare me until gifts began showing up at my door. Now, he knows where I live and that can be dangerous. I called the police for the first time when I noticed someone standing in my yard staring up at my bedroom window. I couldn’t confirm it was him but I knew that it was.

One day, when I came home from work, I found that my front window had been broken and my cat was missing. I put her food outside and searched the area for days, but she never came back. As much as I wanted to be positive, I couldn’t help but think he might have done something to her. That’s when I decided it was time for a change. In less than a month, I packed up my things and moved to the city.

It’s crazy but sometimes I think he may have followed me here. I can be walking down the street with my head in another world and, out of the blue, the hairs on my neck will stand up and I’ll check behind me expecting to find him standing there.

I tell myself it’s all in my head. I wasn’t the only pretty girl in my hometown. He’s probably found someone else to harass since I disappeared, but still, there’s that sensation that creeps up on me sometimes. I hope that with time, it will all go away and I can just forget him.

Lev, on the other hand, clearly takes care of himself and everything that he owns. His immaculate home and rugged but well-groomed exterior demonstrate that he values the things that matter in his life. He seems to have his life together, which is something I’ve been longing for since I was old enough to realize that my mother’s life was a jumbled-up mess. He represents stability, strength, and character, and those things are sexy as hell.

I have no idea how long he’ll be out on this call so I grab a bite to eat then shower so that I can get ready for bed. Standing in the center of the room wrapped in my towel, I realize that he has washed, dried, and folded my new clothes for me. I smile thinking how huge this seemingly simple gesture feels to me and take the neatly folded blue teddy out of the pile.

I put it on and instantly second-guess my reflection in the mirror. It accentuates my curves perfectly and shows off just enough cleavage to be sexy without being pornographic. Maybe, it looks too good. I don’t want him to think that I’m wearing it to seduce him.

As I contemplate taking it off and covering myself in a baggy tee shirt, I remind myself that he was the one who picked it out. He wants to see me in it. He all but demanded that I wear it to bed so I will. I have a feeling this may be the first of many things that I do because Lev wants me to. There’s something arousing about the idea of pleasing him.

I double-check the door to make sure it’s locked before dimming the lights and heading to bed, hoping I’ll hear his key in the lock any second. Unfortunately, the minutes turn into hours and he still hasn’t returned. I close my eyes and drift off to sleep before he gets home.

I don’t know how long I’ve been sleeping, but I wake up to the sound of Lev’s breathing. Adjusting my eyes to the darkness, I see him staring down at me.

“You’re back,” I whisper, still feeling groggy.

“You wore it to bed,” he growls and I realize he’s looking down at the blue teddy.

“Yes, it feels nice. Thank you.”

He reaches down, takes the fabric in his hand, and says, “It does feel nice but you feel better.”

My heart starts pounding and a rush of heat ignites a fire in my belly as he runs his fingers across the cleavage spilling from the top of the nightie. He takes my hands, holds them over my head, and kisses me. I open my mouth to invite his tongue inside.

Still holding my hands, he drops his head, using his teeth to push down the top of the blue teddy exposing my bare breasts. He gently runs his tongue across each nipple before drawing them into his mouth and suckling them. My heart races and I feel a sudden wetness between my legs. Sensing my arousal, he frees my hands just long enough to grab his handcuffs and snap them onto my wrists.

He looms over me, staring down into my eyes. Running his hands along my inner thighs and knees, he pushes my legs apart. I’m panting now as a convoluted mixture of fear and anticipation consumes my senses.

He tugs at my panties, sliding them down my legs, and slips his fingers inside me, stroking parts of me that have never been touched before.

“Relax, little girl. I’m gonna make you feel so good.” He looks through my eyes to the very core of my being when he says it and I believe him with all my heart. “I told you I was gonna make you scream.”

He lowers his head and playfully laps at the outer lips of my pussy. My mouth opens and the words, “Oh, God,” slip out. He looks up at me and smiles, knowing he has me completely under his spell.

“If you want me to lick your pussy, you have to ask nicely,” he says.

I want to play along but I’ve never talked dirty and I don’t want to sound stupid. He taps my swollen clit with his finger, and I groan from my growing need for his attention.

“Say it. Say, ‘Please lick my pussy.’”

I swallow hard and cry, “Please eat my pussy.”

“That’s a good girl. Good girls get rewarded.”

He uses his big hands to force my thighs down on the bed and buries his face between them. As his tongue penetrates me for the first time, I bolt up on the bed and cry out. This new sensation might be more than my delicate sensibilities can take. The blood rushes from my head to my lower extremities and the room begins to spin around me. I’m lost in some cosmic, euphoric cloud.

He presses two fingers against my inner lips and inserts them inside me. I rock my body against them as he suckles hungrily on my swollen clit. All of my insecurities have flown right out the window along with my better sensibilities.

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