Trapped With My Teacher

“Know all what?” I ask as I dump the snow into the large bottle beside the sink, packing it in so that when it melts, it’ll stay in this container and not flood the counter.

“How to survive out here. How to melt snow for water, make fires, all that jazz.”

“I told you,” I say, “I grew up in a house full of boys.” Then I hesitate, and shrug. “My father taught me.”

“Are you and your father close?” he asks. There’s something tense in his voice, a question beyond that question. But when I turn to glance at him, he’s busy fussing with the meat we’ve laid aside for dinner tonight, not even looking at me.

Maybe I imagined it.

“Yeah,” I say with a shrug, as I finish refilling the water jug. “I mean, we used to go camping all the time. Me and him and my brothers.”

“Used to?”

I shake my head with a little sigh. “He got promoted at work. High-powered lawyer now, partner at his firm. He doesn’t really have time for goofing off anymore.” I clamp my mouth shut, then shrug. “Or much of anything, really.”

“So he’s not around much anymore?” This time, when I glance at Tony, he’s watching me with a sorrowful, almost sympathetic expression on his face.

“Not really,” I admit.

To my surprise, Tony’s expression shifts from sympathy into something almost… angry. “Sounds like a poor father to me.”

My eyebrows rise. I blink in surprise. “He’s not. I mean—I’m making him sound worse than he is.” Tony has a point, some small, traitor part of me admits. Daddy doesn’t sound like the best father on paper. Not anymore. “But he does all this work for us. For me and my brothers, to give us the best lives he can. He gave me a lot of privileges, a lot of legs up in life. I really can’t complain. Even if it means I don’t get to see him much.”

Tony’s jaw clenches. But if he has any other thoughts or opinions on the matter, he doesn’t share them. He just hmphs and turns back to the stovetop to continue cooking.

Something is up. I can tell by the line of his shoulders, the tense knot that wasn’t there a minute ago. But I know better by now than to press him on it. So, with a shrug, I leave him to it, and head into the living room to restock our main fire.

8

Time Flies

Two days pass.

Two days with no change in our cell phone service.

Two more nights where it snows—not as heavily as the first night, but heavily enough to add a few more inches to the path I carved across the back garden to the shed. Heavy enough to bury both of our cars so deep that we need to dig a path out the front door and dig them out so if any rescue vehicles eventually finally come crawling up this mountainside, they’ll see the cars and realize there are people here.

But I’m not really nervous. Not yet. We have enough food to last us another 4-5 days, and enough wood to last us that long as well. Not to mention, Daddy knows I’m here. Eventually he’ll reach the resort, or the ski resort will contact him to let him know I never checked in. He’ll send out a search party. He’ll find me.

Until then, I’m in this strange, not-entirely-bad alternate reality.

In fact, oddly, despite the storm outside and our own impending potential lack of supplies, Tony and I have found a way to enjoy this situation. More than enjoy it. I feel happier trapped in this cabin than I have in months of suffering through his classes at school. Safe in my dormitory every night, with visions of him glowering at me across the classroom in my head every time I close my eyes.

In the meantime, we certainly find ways to keep ourselves busy… Turns out Tony has a mind as dirty as it is devious. The first night, he blindfolded me with his shirt, then teased my nipples rock-hard with handfuls of snow, alternating between that and warm water to make me hot and cold and wet all over. All that before he finally fucked me against the wall of the living room, my feet wrapped around his waist, my shoulder blades digging into the wood paneling as he drove his cock into me. We had sex again in the bedroom, and then again at three in the morning when I woke up to feel his cock stiff and hard and digging into the small of my back.

In the morning, he woke me up with a long, teasing, and borderline torturous onslaught from his tongue, licking and nibbling my inner thighs until I was begging for him to suck my clit. Only then did he tongue me until I came so hard I saw sparks behind my closed eyelids.