Alaska Cherry

By Joan Alaric Abalon

50 Men in 50 States in one year...Could you complete the challenge?

Cherry actually made it through her first state and is now heading to Alaska, where a handsome scientist awaits, deep in a snowbound cavern. Will Cherry actually find true love this time or will her Alaskan adventure be merely another titillating addition to her sexual explorations?

Or maybe neither--if Cherry and her target can't stop fighting.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Joan Alaric Abalon
• Release date: Nov 2, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370257201

Joan Alaric Abalon

Joan Alaric Abalon lives in Northern California with her husband and two black cats. "Alabama Cherry" is the first of what she hopes to be 51 naughty adventures of her intrepid heroine, Cherry.

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Alaska Cherry

by

Joan Alaric Abalon

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2017 Joan Alaric Abalon

All Rights Reserved

COPYRIGHT INFORMATION: This book or parts thereof may not be reproduced in any form, stored in any retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or otherwise—without prior written permission of the publisher, except as provided by United States of America copyright law.

DISCLAIMER INFORMATION: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

ALASKA

TRAVEL DAY

DAY ONE

DAY TWO

DAY THREE

TRAVEL DAY

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

ALABAMA

ALASKA

It was too cold in the cave to expose more of our body parts than was absolutely necessary. He had me turned toward the cave wall, holding me steady, while his right hand reached under my parka, digging down through the layers of fleece and eiderdown to squeeze its way past the waistband of my jeans and finally connect with the silk of my panties. Impatiently, he tugged at the slippery material, twisting and pulling, uncovering just enough, so that his fingers could search for that spot.

Which, to my delight, he found quickly—causing me to gasp.

"Simple biology," he said, matter-of-factly, moving his pointer finger in small circles.

"If it was that simple, I panted, every man could do it."

His finger increased its pressure—circling.

"Some scientists believe that the G-spot doesn’t exist, he continued, that it’s just a construct of feminism to level the sexual playing field with men."

I could barely speak, my pleasure was so intense. Uh…what…do…you…think?

Pulling at the collar of my parka, he leaned over and sucked at where my neck met with my shoulder. With his lips solidly connected, his tongue moved in a lazy-eight—the combined tactile sensations sending shivers through my body.

"Oh…my!" I panted.

"I think that a woman’s body is covered in erogenous zones, he murmured, and I've always considered it a personal duty of mine to discover each and every one of them."

My body arched in ecstasy as his lips moved to my right ear lobe, tugging gently. He was humming as he did it—the low tone reverberating throughout my body. Meanwhile, his fingers increased their pressure—probing, insistent…tantalizing.

—god, but I loved my job!—

THE RULES

1. The first name of any chosen candidate must begin with the first letter of the specific state.

2. Only one chosen candidate per profession.

3. No chosen candidate may be previously known to the writer.

4. No chosen candidate may have foreknowledge of the writer’s profession or of the articles she will be producing. Nor will they be told about the articles until after the complete series has been written—and only then at the discretion of the writer.

5. Money or gifts cannot be exchanged, either from the writer to the chosen candidate or vice versa.

6. In no more than one out of every ten states, will a female candidate be chosen, if desired.

7. Choosing more than one candidate in each state is acceptable. This includes separately or on the same occasion.

8. Under no circumstances, will a chosen candidate be under the age of 21.

9. No last names or identifying characteristics of the chosen candidate will be used in the articles. If the writer so chooses—to aid in the anonymizing of the chosen candidate, she may use an alias. This alias does not, however, negate Rule #1.

10. Writer assumes complete responsibility for any and all consequences due to not following reasonable birth control or STD prevention.

TRAVEL DAY

It took exactly 12 hours and 45 minutes to fly from Mobile, Alabama to Ketchikan, Alaska (via Atlanta and Seattle). I had originally planned to fly back to Los Angeles first, but my newspaper editor—Wendy—had a different idea.

You’ll love it, Cherry, she told me over the phone, as I rushed to change my tickets in Atlanta. "It’s a unique opportunity, very blah-blah scientifically intellectual—just the sort of thing that interests you. And I’ve already set up a pilot to fly you out to Prince of Wales Island tomorrow, so there’s no need to waste time in Ketchikan."

I’m not an idiot, Wendy. You just want me out of Ketchikan because it’s probably filled with lots of horny lumberjacks and fishermen.

No doubt, she agreed. "And with your boobs and ass, it would be like shooting fish in a barrel. At least out on the archaeological site, you’ll have more of a challenge. Whoops…hold on, Cher." On the other side of the phone, I heard Wendy yelling at some unlucky lackey. What the fuck! We’re not BuzzFeed here. It’s ‘to whom’ you fair-to-middling millennial, not ‘to who’! Didn’t they teach you anything in that 2-bit journalism school you went to?

She came back on the phone—her voice dripping with snark. It’s bad enough that these mofos don’t even know how to use spell-check. Now, where were we?

Wendy, I chuckled, "you are the proverbial pot calling the kettle black. ‘2-bit journalism school you went to’. That’s ending a sentence with a preposition."

Which is perfectly acceptable these days, she insisted. It’s called adaptable English.

It’s called lazy English.

"And I am feeling particularly lazy today. Now, back to Alaska. Your cover is that you’ll be writing a story on the archeological site—that momentous find they’ve just made, that sort of thing."

But it’s not just a cover, right? I mean, I actually get to write the story of the dig, because it does sound pretty darn fascinating.

You see, Wendy sniffed. I knew you’d find this more challenging than just porking the first Alaskan Andy you tripped over in Ketchikan. Plus I will get two columns out of your trip, which will keep all those annoying accountants the paper employs happy.

While I didn’t exactly agree with Wendy, I was still