The Fuck-it List
Copyright© 2025 by ahorsewithnoname
Chapter 3
Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 3 - Award-winning erotic adventure of a lifetime, with two good friends fulfilling one's bucket list item in the wilds of Arizona. White-water rafting the Colorado river is daring; when it's at an all-time high, it becomes a face-off with death, where an unlikely hero surfaces. Mixed with lots of sex, romance and a splash of humor, this romp is a thriller AND explains the author's pen name origin! You can view reader's comments over at Bookapy.
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Consensual Heterosexual Fiction Anal Sex Oral Sex Safe Sex
When you come upon the Chapel of the Holy Cross, you have a surreal expectation of the hand of God just picking this structure up from somewhere else and depositing it on these two large, red rock formations.
“Yer’ gonna’ catch flies, son,” observed Rich, my jaw dropping at the sheer spectacle before me.
We spent about an hour there, learning the history of the Chapel, and I was blown away by the cross itself. It’s an integral part of the structure of the building, and it honestly looked like it had been wedged in between these massive rock formations.
We went outside and Rich got sidetracked talking to a couple of young nuns, so I meandered away a bit, looking to get some of the local flavor by taking in the incredible landscape.
As I walked down this path and turned left around an outcropping, I came upon a young girl, well, mid-teens I guess. She was dressed in some casual clothes, and she also had a horse with her.
“Hello,” I said, trying to look friendly and hoping I wasn’t gonna’ scare her away.
“Hey,” was the reply. She seemed a bit distracted.
“You ok?” I asked.
She got up on the horse and then looked back at me.
“I’m fine, mister. Just gonna’ go take a ride into the desert. Me and Gee.”
“Gee?” I wondered if she had named her horse after the song Me and Bobby McGee. I asked her.
She looked back over her shoulder one last time before moving out of view.
“Geen Naam. That’s his name. Look it up, mister.” She laughed at an obvious private joke, and then she was gone.
When I got back, Rich was wrapping up his conversation about flying with the nuns and we were ready to move on.
Back in the Hummer, heading north, I told him of my encounter with the girl.
“Hitting on a 15-year-old, huh?” He was back to poking fun at me.
“Well, you were no better, trying to hook us up with a couple of nuns!”
He roared. “Touché!”
A few minutes later he was texting a close friend of his and asked for that name again, and I repeated what the girl had said.
“Geen Nam? Sounds foreign.”
A minute or so later he snorted. “She said that we’re both idiots, that it means ‘no name’.” We both looked at each other and said “Horse!” at the same time, then agreed that when we got back we’d tell Horse that he had a story to write about that girl and HER horse with no name.
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