Кончил в пока она собирала пазлы || Murstar

Title: A Taboo Frankincense

The camera pans over rural Russia, a vast expanse of snow-covered fields stretching to the horizon. The snowy landscape is broken only by the occasional farmhouse, their chimneys billowing smoke into the crisp winter air. The setting is idyllic, peaceful – a stark contrast to the forbidden desires that brew beneath the surface.

Our journey begins in one of these modest farmhouses. The room is sparsely furnished, with a comfortable couch positioned in front of a modest hearth. Laughter echoes from the kitchen as a young man, perhaps eighteen, emerges with two mugs of steaming tea. He sets them down on the small wooden table, the ceramic clinking softly against the surface.

His name is Murstar, a local boy everyone knows. He’s considered shy, introverted, the kind of boy who always has his head buried in a book rather than chasing girls and troublemaking. But that is simply the image he projects to the world. In reality, Murstar harbors dark, taboo fantasies, an insatiable hunger for something forbidden.

And he has his eyes set on a prize that would shock and disgust the community if his true intentions ever surfaced. But he whets his appetite in other ways, far from prying eyes.

Across the room, a girl sat cross-legged on the carpet, her attention wholly focused on the jigsaw puzzle spread before her. She is a whisper of sixteen, with a face that beckons angelic innocence and a body that’s starting to bloom. Her leggings hug her budding curves, her long, dark hair swept up in a messy bun. One foot toys with a loose slipper as she cranes over the table, tongue poking slightly from the corner of her mouth in concentration.

To most this would seem an ordinary scene, a boy and girl spending the day together. But there’s a undercurrent, a tension that sizzles beneath the surface. For Murstar, this is a test of his patience, his restraint. He has to tread carefully, not spook her. He has to wait.

Snatching his book, he plops down on the couch, his leg bouncing slightly as he tries to immerse himself in the novel’s simple plot. But his mind is elsewhere, drifting to the girl who unknowingly occupies his every waking thought. He glances at her surreptitiously, trying to be subtle, but she’s still engrossed in her puzzle.

Placing a marker beside her piece, she looks up, stretching luxuriously. Her movements are fluid and graceful, making Murstar swallow hard as he feels a stirring in his groin. This girl, she is far too good for him. Too pure, too innocent. Yet the darkness within him yearns to corrupt, to defile, to make her know him in the most primal of ways.

She gets up, padding to the kitchen for more tea. The sound of her movement makes his heart race, sweat forming on his brow. He clutches at his book, trying to distract himself, but it’s no use. His mind is already undressing her, laying out a perverse path of sin and depravity.

As she returns, her eyes catch his, holding his gaze for a charged moment before she sits down again. Murstar’s breath hitches, blood rushing south at the boldness of her look. Could it be… No. She couldn’t possibly…

He pushes the thought aside, However, he finds himself playing a dangerous game. If he makes a move, she’ll surely reject him. It would be awkward, ruin everything. And yet… the allure of forbidden fruit is too tempting to ignore.

Licking his dry lips, he sets his book aside and stands, taking a step towards her. His heart pounds in his ears as he nears where she sits, still engrossed in her puzzle. He clears his throat, loud in the quiet room.

She looks up, smirking slightly. “What’s up, Murstar? You need something?”

His mouth goes dry, words failing him. He swallows, trying to find bravery he doesn’t feel. Finally, he manages: “I was wondering…”

Quick as a flash, her hand lashes out, snagging his wrist. She tugs him to the floor, right between her spread knees. Murstar’s eyes widen, surprise and desire warring within him.

“What did you want to ask me?” Her voice is a purr, daring him to cross the line.

He swallows hard, taking in her face this close. The sweep of her lashes, the pink of her lips. The tiny mole just above the corner of her mouth. Loss of innocence. He can’t hold back.

His hand comes up of its own accord, fingers threading through her silken hair. Her chest rises sharply with an inhale, pupils dilating. He leans in, their lips a breath apart.

“I want you,” he whispers harshly.

She grins, the groove of her dimples flashing. “Prove it.”

The invitation is too much. Murstar crashes their mouths together, swallowing her gasp. She meets his kiss with equal fervor, nipping at his bottom lip. A jolt of pure lust shoots straight to his cock, and he groans into her mouth.

Strong little fingers tangle in his hair, nails dragging against his scalp. She arches her back, pressing against him and nearly undoing him. Murstar’s hands roam her body with a hunger he can’t sate. Gripping her waist, he breaks the kiss to bite at her jaw, her neck. She tilts her head, giving him better access. The world narrows down to the feel of her.

But then, she pushes him away, rising in one fluid motion. Murstar’s chest heaves as he watches her walk to the door and lock it, throwing the blinds closed. A thrill races through him – they’re trapped in this moment, time suspended.

She turns back to him, reaching over her head to grasp her hem. In one swift motion, she tugs her shirt off and tosses it aside, exposing her slight frame and budding breasts. Murstar drinks in the sight hungrily, patience wearing thin.

“You’ve been wanting this for a long time, haven’t you?” Her voice is as sticky as honey, dripping with sin.

“Yes,” he grits out. “I want to ruin you.”

Her lips curve, dark promise in her gaze. She advances on him, and he holds his ground, the air between them charged with tension.

“You want to corrupt me?” She hums, reaching up to brush his hair behind his ear. Her breasts brush his chest, and he swallows a groan. “Then do it. Make me yours.”

“It will change everything,” he warns, even as his mind shouts at him to seize what he wants.

“I know.” She walks two fingers up his chest, tapping his chin. “That’s why I want it. I’ve seen how you look at me… I want you to take me, claim me, and make it so I can’t go back.”

His blood turns to fire, scorching through his veins. Every cell in his body screams at him to take her right here, consequences be damned. But there’s still a flicker of hesitation. She’s too pure, too good for his dark desires.

She seems to sense it, leaning in to whisper against the shell of his ear, “Don’t be afraid. Just lead me down to hell and I’ll jump with you.”