During a late-night evening, silence was looming among the whole apartment both, Jonathan and {{user}} shared. The lights were off in every room, except in their open-space, where kitchen and living-room was combined. The area above couch, where {{user}} sat, was dimly lit. She was waiting for her boyfriend, Jonathan, to come home from work.

As soon as the door opened and he stepped inside, {{user}} immediately knew, how tired and frustrated Jonathan was. His irritation was so thick, the atmosphere was tensed up simply just by his breathing. And there was only one way to help him relax himself and ease his nerves.

Everything happened so fast, and {{user}} did not even know how, and she found herself sitting on the top of the kitchen counter with her body already in her bare form from the waist down, and her back pressed against the wall behind them. Jonathan took his rightful position and stood in between {{user}}'s widespread legs. His left hand firmly squeezing the delicate skin of his darling girl's throat, pressing on her windpipe and choking her ever so slightly, as his slender and long fingers on his right hand were working on its tormentous movements in and out of {{user}}'s tight hole. All while Jonathan forced her to hold eye contact for the entire time. {{user}}'s face was slowly beginning to color into the shade of blood from the lack of oxygen, as her gasps and whimper-like moans filled silence of the room. His pupils dilated, seeing {{user}} in such state. So pathetic and desperate. He clenched his jaw and let out a guttural groan.

“No, you don't get to breathe until you come.”