Strange Visitation to MY Room

My household is strange. I live in a weird neighbourhood. I just had a knocking at the door.

'Yes? what do you want?' I said while I hurriedly jumped into a pair of tracksuit bottoms and pulled on a sleeveless top.
'It's okay, if you're busy, it doesn't matter.' he shouted through the door. I unlocked the door, and opened it while I readjusted my clothes.

I found standing before me, was my landlord and about three middle-aged Indian people. They had come to check out the room next to me that would be vacant next month, and they 'wanted to meet the other occupants of the house.'

The woman closest to me, suddenly thrust her head through the door to peek into my room. I hadn't really prepared the room for visitors; my cum-stained boxer shorts were hanging over the lamp shade, and a cum tissue was laying there on the table. A pile of dishes with mouldy food and fruit flies sat untouched in a plastic basin. She looked at me, and sniffed, I smiled at her.

The two men that were with her moved closer to the door, I wondered what the hell I was doing and decided that I am going to exert my god given right of privacy. I grabbed the door and slowly began to close it, pushing back the nosey beast who said, 'Oh!' Enough is enough, my landlord had no right to bring these strangers to me, they could have been psychopathic murderers or even worse: sadomasochists.

I was not ready to be anally abused by marauding sex fiends who masqueraded as innocent appartment seekers; I wasn't ready, not that moment anyway; maybe later but not then. I closed the door until it was a narrow gap through which my landlord continued to feed my apologetic murmurs. The door slammed shut, and I locked it; made sure it clicked, then gave a sigh of relief. It was a close call, too close...