Getting between a guide and your girlfriend is kind of like getting between a mama bear and her cubs. Do yourself a favor-don't go there. A male backcountry guide is dangerous, unpredictable, and understandably horny. Unlike freshly scrubbed, well-socialized ski instructors, guides are not suavely bedding clients after gourmet dinners. They sleep in shacks or tents, and sniff the putrid fumes emitted from other men's skivvies. They forget what estrogen smells like. Of course, it doesn't smell at all. But guides don't need to know this, or any biology, really, because they're rugged, dashing mountain men and you're just a jamoke with a credit card. As he massages your girlfriend's loins into her harness, the lusty goat reckons he can get even closer. Can he? Well, when was the last time you bought your girlfriend flowers? Oh, right, you bought her a guided backcountry trip. Sucker.
Ask Dr. Flake