The rest of the night passes rather quickly; darkness comes quick in this place and all of us are tired from the day’s events. The cabin is not huge, but not small either. Nolan has his own room in the far corner, and next to his is Professor Habermann’s, who I’ve hardly spoken to at all this entire trip.

Nolan. I can call him fucking Nolan.

Mmmph. Fuck. I'll probably still beg to call him Daddy, though.

After we unpack, we eat a short, quiet dinner, with Nolan and Vlada going over the map and comparing their notes, making sure they had all their coordinates synchronized. We go over the plans in case anything went wrong—what to do if there was a fire, a black out, a thunderstorm, an avalanche, a bear. Vlada goes over everything in detail.

My foot slides against Nolan’s the whole time, staring dreamily at his big, strong hands. I want to know what they’ll feel like when he’s holding me down—maybe I can tell him “no” the first time; maybe he’ll be into that? Maybe it’ll be hotter if he thinks I don’t want it…if he has to force me, take me, make me his...

But he pulls his feet back, knowing what's happening with me. He moves his eyebrows deliberately at Vlada, wanting me to listen; so, of course, knowing what he wants, I do it. It’s important—Vlada knows this mountain like the back of her hand and the explicitness with which she describes how to kill wolves or lions is both scary and basically the coolest thing I’ve ever heard. It’s a wonder she doesn’t just walk around in animal skins all time.

Fucking badass, she is.

Habermann acts like it’s all beneath her and honestly you can’t blame her too much. She’ll only have to remember all of this if the rest of us don’t, and in that case, probably she’d be dead anyway. She’s a theoretical archaeologist; she’s the kind of person who takes the information gathered in the field and puts it all together from the safety of an office inside some limber-dick liberal city with seventeen hundred coffee houses per square mile.

With her platinum hair all gathered up in a bun and her big poofy white jacket, she looks like she’s some agent from Heaven sent to cast judgment on the rest of us. She’s very quiet the whole time, casting disbelieving looks at Nolan and Vlada.

When Nolan gets up to use the bathroom—it's outside, an outhouse, ick—she turns to Vlada and shakes her head.

“I can’t believe you’re just allowing him to exploit your talents like this.”

Vlada smiles, always in control. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that he’s full of shit, and the only reason I’m here is because the university is promising me twice the paid sabbatical time afterward if I go along with this crazy bullshit. He’s lucky he’s got a friend in the dean’s office. But you…” Habermann shakes her head. “You’re obviously a professional. No one is doubting that. I have every confidence you’ll keep us safe out here, so this isn’t about anything about your capabilities. But good lord, the 'Phallic Temple of the Ancient Male?' You have to be kidding.”

Vlada shrugged slowly and elaborately; it’s like watching a panther prowl across the room. Fuck, she’s sexy. “I do not know that I agree with him about the nature of this temple, no. You are correct in that. But there is something there. I have seen many pieces of it, fragments, remnants, in my time in these mountains. If you believe in my capabilities as you say, then trust me, at least for tomorrow. We will find something. Be sure of this.”

Shortly after, we break for bed. My heart burns with the need to talk more to Professor Slate—*Nolan—*to learn more about his “obvious” attraction for me and to question him endlessly about when he was first turned on by my body, whether he had enjoyed all the tiny skirts I had been wearing for his benefit, were my high heels high enough to garner his favor, were their any demands I needed to satisfy for him right that instant—but when I corner him in the kitchen, out of sight of Vlada, he pushes me softly and encouragingly away with a gentle smile.

“We have a whole lot to talk about. But you and I are both tired and…” he nods at Janine, outside, “our space here isn’t exactly our own. We’ll have the time, soon, during this trip I mean, to talk…and more.”

His hand passes over my palm, and I have to fight so hard from cumming that it’s unbelievable to me. I know I have a short trigger, but fuck. Fingertips over a palm? Are you serious? That’s what’s getting me off?

I mean apparently. I guess having the object of my lifelong attraction more-or-less saying that as soon as we can be sure Janine is super passed out that he’ll stuff his cock in my virgin pussy until I’m begging to call him Daddy turns me on a little bit, okay?

I am so fucking excited, holy shit!

“Sure, of course,” I say, smiling, trying to play off how badly I want to stuff every syllable I’m saying with the hard pounding of his cock down my throat. “Of course, Nolan.” I feel so adult when I say his name; he’s old enough to be my father. That is, obvi, kind of the point. “Whatever you think is best.”

I say it a good way, a nice way, letting him know how much I trust him to lead and guide. I am, you may have noticed, one hell of a submissive. The thought of trying to lead him down some path is anathema to me, even though there are a ton of paths I want to lead him down and a ton of things I want him to show my innocent virgin little cunt.

But I need him to know what they are—need him to be in charge, to order me around, need to do what he says and follow his every direct command completely so I can show him what a good little girl I can be for him.

Nolan and Habermann retreat to their rooms; Vlada and I stay in the living room. Right away, Vlada claims the couch. I’m not really one to argue in the first place, and I’m certainly not going to argue with her. If she wants the couch, she can take it. She’s the one keeping us alive, after all. I fluff out my sleeping bag and take up residence on the rug in front of the fireplace, taking care that the guard in front of the fireplace is sturdy.

I’ve heard horror stories about slumbering folks tossing and turning themselves right into a blazing mess. I have really hot dreams where my fingers can't help but slide right into my hot teenage cunt and I roll around a lot to satisfy myself, waking up still half-dreaming and coaxing myself to at least three orgasms a night.

I'm fucking horny, okay? Like, definitionally. If you had to define me, you would say: Teenager; Archaeology Student; Attractive; Horny as Fuck.

It’s not too long after that that I slide down onto the floor in my sleeping bag to go to sleep.

Vlada flashes me a quick smile before I shut my eyes. “You see? When a man knows, he acts.”

I smile back at her, blushing furiously. “Thank you.”

“Is nothing,” she says. “I apologize for…what is word. Impropriety?”

That actually really means a lot. That bond I felt earlier with her strengthens immediately. My smile grows.

“It’s all right. Good night, Vlada.”

“Sweet dreams, little one.”

That sends a shiver down my spine.

I suppose it shouldn’t exactly surprise you that all my fucked up Daddy issues and my latent bisexuality have led in turn to a dalliance from time to time with Mommy issues, too? That thought that it wouldn’t be so fucking bad if Nolan was into Vlada…if only he could let me join in…if he ordered me to lick her out while he fucked me from behind...

Mmmph. Fuck. Too bad that's impossible. I mean, I like to aim big, but that's a little too big. I can be content—*incredibly so—*with “only” Nolan.

But still, it's that fantasy that keeps me silently, quietly, carefully urging my fingers against my clit as I drift off into dreams.

And my dreams start hard. I mean usually there’s this period of darkness when you sleep, right? And even when you know you’re dreaming, you’re kind of aware that there’s been this period where you were asleep and not yet dreaming yet, right? Like the darkness that happens before a movie, and then the movie starts, only you forget that it’s a movie, and that’s the dream?

This is different.

This is like—like a screen wipe. One second my eyes were closed and I was drifting. The next, I’m fucking standing in the middle of some great edifice, an enormous altar in front of me. Janine and Vlada are there, and they’re smiling, their faces sort of mad. But not angry mad, like, insane mad.

Like, manic mad—their smiles are wide and fearsomely happy, like they’re about to split apart from the amount of bliss they’re feeling.

And I can tell that they are in this dream with me; it’s not just me dreaming about them. This is a dream that I’m having with them at the same time.

I’ve only fucking read about that sort of thing, and it's supposed to be fucking fake.

But this is real. I know it is. I can feel it.

They’re dressed in these shimmering, sheer white gowns. Tall slits up their gorgeous legs, all the way up to their hips. They're both so fit, I can see their pelvic bones, ugh.

Their nipples are hard as fuck and their cunts are drooling hot wetness. Both of them are standing next to this altar in the shape of an immense hard cock and huge balls. Like, the altar itself is the balls, resting happily on the ground, and towering above us is the hard, turgid cock of some stone god. The veins are as thick as my forearms.

I’ve never been so turned on in my life, and Nolan fucking Slate just told me he was attracted to me—so do with that information what you will.

I look down and see that I’m dressed the same way as Vlada and Janine, my virgin body all clad in a sheer white clingy gown. It plunges in a deep v-neck, showing off my cleavage, and I feel vulnerable and afraid, but in a nice way. A sexy way. There are sleeves that go all the way down to my wrists, but they're so sheer, like the rest of the gown, it's like they're not even there.

“We’ve been waiting for you so long, little darling,” say Janine and Vlada in unison. “So very long. Won’t you come adore Him with us?”

They drop to their knees and start licking at the heavy balls of the altar. I can see that it’s made of stone, but the ease with which their tongues slide up and down it make it clear that they’re not tasting stone at all. They're tasting Male.

I can see the thick cock pulsing and trembling, the veins surging to life. Thick, heavy precum starts to slide down the cockhead, so tall above my head, and I drop to my knees, desperate to join in this worship. I know that I must. I know I haven’t any choice. I know it’s what I was destined to do.

Crawling up to the massive altar, the precum and cum begins to leak down the heavy shaft, resting on the balls. The three of us together slide our faces in it, kissing and adoring one another as we slurp up heavy gobs of the delicious nectar. Everything happening is so sweet, so hot, so right. I’ve never felt anything so perfect. Their mouths slide over mine, licking the thick cum from my face, and I lick and kiss theirs in turn.

“Don’t you just love him?” Vlada asks me.

“Don’t you simply adore him?

“Yes!” I moan, my mouth half-full of his delicious, sticky cum. “Yes!”

“Yes!” They moan in turn, like I had asked them the same question. “God, yes!”

I need to cum so bad. We all do. Together, as one, we slide our bodies forward on the heaping, huge balls, rubbing our bodies up and down on them. My fingers slide down my body, but I don’t need to touch my cunt—the thick altar provides pressure enough, pulsing beneath me so beautifully.

“Yes,” I moan, in unison with Janine and Vlada. “Yes. Yes!”

Bright, white light fills my vision, my entire world. There’s nothing left for me but to submit, to give in, to let it all take over.

“Yes!” I shout, cumming madly, bucking wildly in my sleeping bag.

Awake, in the world again, the temple utterly gone. Trembling and spasming, the pleasure so intense, and from the light of the dying fire I can see Vlada is in her couch, bucking and moaning and crying out “Yes!” as well.

We both can hear Janine, in her room, screaming in orgasmic pleasure.

The fire is almost out entirely. Sitting up, my bones and muscles still loose from all that pleasure, I add another few logs and check the time. I’ve been asleep for more than six hours.

The dream felt only like it lasted for maybe ten minutes.

I look over at Vlada. She’s dripping with sweat, just like me, her tongue slowly sliding around her lips. The way she’s looking at me, I feel more like a meal than a person; I kind of like it.

“This mountain has…many secrets,” she says, green eyes glimmering. “I have lived here for more than twenty years. Even I still do not know them all.”