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Category: Erotica/BDSM Erotica
Description: An eye-opening erotic novella from one of today's most successful short story writers! Jack is a typical American boy, and now he's a tour guide, put in temptation's way everywhere he goes. And like any redblooded American lad, he gives right in with all his might! Read Jack's confessions about his expriences "on the road." Confession #1: Jack discovers there's a lot more to being a tour guide than staying on schedule - because road trips can be as harrowing indoors as out. Confession #2: Jack survived Sondra and his first tour, but his second excursion makes him long for the simple problems of sex on wheels. Confession #3: Jack is getting the hang of this tour guide business until a nasty bug puts him to bed and a Scottish lass must take up his slack. Confession #4: A quarrelsome Texan gives our travelin' Jack a whole new appreciation for country-western music. Confession #5: Jack finds that it is a small world after all when cultures collide when the desire for steamy sex enters the head of another overseas traveler. Confession #6: Waltzing Matilda sounds nice, but making love to Matilda is nicer. Confession 7: Travlin' Jack is off again, this time to the land of the Pharaohs where he discovers sex and intrigue along the Nile. Confession 8: Jack travels to the Eternal City of Rome where he finds there's a Da Vagina Code to be investigated. Cover art: Jade
eBook Publisher: Renaissance E Books/Sizzler Editions,
eBookwise Release Date: November 2010

Available eBook Formats: OEBFF Format (IMP) [138 KB]
Words: 29368
Reading time: 83-117 min.

You can call me Jack. Everyone else does. That's right ... Jack. Certified,

Professional Tour Guide, Jack. At your service!

While confessions seem harder and harder to make these days, I'm breaking with tradition and spilling the beans. Like most in my business, I usually hold my opinions inside, realizing that our customers (excuse me, fellow travelers) would likely ostracize me simply because I can't help but notice all of their warts, foibles and idiosyncrasies.

Don't get me wrong. I like my fellow brethren. Really, I do. Otherwise, why would I spend twenty-four hours a day at the beck and call of forty people crammed into a bus (excuse me, coach) trying to entertain them amid yawns, complaints, and outright rudeness?

Well ... maybe there are other reasons?

"See the world! Earn money while you travel! Meet interesting people from all walks of life!" Sounds good, I recall thinking, as I signed the enrollment form for tour guide school. As a seasoned traveler with more than sixty countries notched in my passport, this alluring offer seemed like a great marriage of experience and economy.

At first, I wasn't concerned about the numerous situations that could arise out in the hinterland, but after a few days on the road, my carefree attitude slipped into shock. I thought of the prayer I'm sure most tour guides the world over recite routinely.

God, don't let anyone die on me and, if it's not too much to ask, don't let any friggin' bags lose their way. Give me the strength to make this an enriching experience for all of those wonderful people who overpaid, and for myself, who is underpaid, and let them rejoice and be thankful and fucking generous when it comes time to tip their humble servant.

If they don't say it, they should.

Only after a year of indentured service did I learn that my new profession had more downside than my instructors mentioned. Apparently, a high percentage of guides retire after one trip, go directly to their homes, do not collect $200 in tips and refuse to talk to another human being for the next two or three decades.

Yes, after fifty days on the road with a total of one hundred and eighty-three restless spirits in five back-to-back tours of New England's Celebration of Fall, it became apparent that I would be compelled to vent the love/hate emotions I developed toward the human menagerie in my charge. Hence, a few bemused snippets from my version of The Canterbury Tales, 2005