When Winston left for a tropical vacation on a boat, he did not expect to be alone. Yet here he is, on a boat, holding the diamond ring he intended to propose to Brooke with, while she's been held back by her job. Lame. But things start to perk up when a party girl with a dark side and a blue-eyed bombshell with an ocean obsession both express sexual feelings about him. Winston has some choices to make about how to spend his vacation. Meanwhile, a mysterious force from the depths of the ocean has other plans for the boat.
Erotic, exhilarating, sexual, exciting, and mysterious, Sex Boat is a caper that will wiggle its way inside of you and make you reluctant to remove it. Just wait until you see the alarming final scene.
This book is intended for super mature audiences.
It was a white caravan that looked down from the crest of the mountains upon the green wilderness, called by the Indians, Kain-tuck-ee. The wagons, a score or so in number, were covered with arched canvas, bleached by the rains, and, as they stood there, side by side, they looked like a snowdrift against the emerald expanse of forest and foliage. The travelers saw the land of hope, outspread before them, a wide sweep of rolling country, covered with trees and canebrake, cut by streams of clear water, flowing here and there, and shining in the distance, amid the green, like threads of silver wire. All gazed, keen with interest and curiosity, because this unknown land was to be their home, but none was more eager than Henry Ware, a strong boy of fifteen who stood in front of the wagons beside the guide, Tom Ross, a tall, lean man the color of well-tanned leather, who would never let his rifle go out of his hand, and who had Henry's heartfelt admiration, because he knew so much about the woods and wild animals, and told such strange and absorbing tales of the great wilderness that now lay before them. But any close observer who noted Henry Ware would always have looked at him a second time. He was tall and muscled beyond his years, and when he walked his figure showed a certain litheness and power like that of the forest bred. His gaze was rapid, penetrating and inclusive, but never furtive. He seemed to fit into the picture of the wilderness, as if he had taken a space reserved there for him, and had put himself in complete harmony with all its details.
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