The mountain air was so cold it felt like needles against the skin, but as the group of forty students began their trek up the steep, winding trails of Pahalgam, the internal heat of desire was already beginning to boil. Raj led the way at the front, his tall, muscular frame draped in a professional trekking jacket and heavy boots. On his back, he carried a specialized hiking carrier where little Aarav sat, bundled up like a tiny teddy bear in a thick red snowsuit. Aarav was having the time of his life, grabbing at Raj's ears and shouting "Ghora! Ghora!" (Horse!) as his father climbed the rocky terrain with effortless strength. Diya walked right beside them, her cheeks flushed pink from the exertion and the freezing wind. She looked breathtaking in her white puffer jacket and tight thermal leggings that showed off every curve of her toned legs. Every few minutes, Raj would reach back with one hand, gripping Diya's waist or pulling her closer to help her over a slippery patch of ice. Each time his large, warm hand touched her, Diya felt a jolt of electricity that made her "p****y" throb under her layers of clothing. She looked into Raj's dark eyes and saw the "dirty" promise he had made her in the cottage earlier that morning.