Getting Gas

The Highway was much better footing, and the asphalt extended far enough that we didn't have to stumble through the remnants of the storm that were left. Of course, if we didn't hurry, we'd soon find ourselves ankle deep in puddles again, and so we broke into a half jog, with the ocean on our left, the smell of rain and surf permeating the area.

"There it is!" Charlotte shouted, accelerating slightly and bringing an erotic bounce to her motion. My eyes were naturally drawn to her tits as she ran slightly to the right of me, and I stared for a second, before dragging my gaze back to the road. The rain was beginning to fall, and I could hear the sound of a curtain of it descending in the distance. In the distance I could also see the slight raise in the landscape which I knew was the turn on to the gas station.

"Ah Shit... RUN!" Charlotte barked at me, and took off in a sprint. I was in no mood to complain as I felt the rain beginning to soak into my clothing. I too took off as fast as I could, my feet splashing in the few small puddles that lay between us and the tall metal sign that we were aiming for.

"Aaaargh, stupid fucking Pohs... Dammit, I just got this thing dry. And my tits hurt." Charlotte panted as she brought herself to a halt underneath the small shelter that covered the small island where two gas pumps lay. I looked at her as I too stepped beneath the metal. I opened my mouth to respond, before the rain slackened... and then with almost no further ceremony slowed to an extremely light drizzle.

Charlotte was soaked. Her hat flopped down over her head, an the dark color of water was present on her emerald green shirt, clinging to her body in a most visually pleasing manner. I couldn't help but notice that her nipples were pressed against her shirt, making two very obvious points. She hadn't worn a bra, I realized.

Neither one of us said anything, merely looking around the small service station, catching our breath, when suddenly Charlotte groaned loudly.

"Oh no... Oh no... Fuck no. " She looked over towards a parking space, and I followed her gaze to see a dark blue Honda Civic, decked out to the maximum in racing stripes, spoilers, and every other thing that screamed "Drift Racer".

"What?" I asked, looking at the incredibly tackily modified car. Truck Nuts? Seriously?

"Remember those assholes I told you about the first night?" Charlotte's face took on a sour expression. "One's right behind the counter." She pointed at the gas station, where a youngish looking guy sitting behind the counter was scrolling though his phone, occasionally ceasing his constant swiping right, to glance in our direction, then back at his phone.

"Do you think he recognizes you?" I asked, noticing that the guy hadn't looked up for more than a second.

"He probably won't if I don't talk to him." She said, nodding. "Which means, you pay and I fill up the gas can."

She reached over and took the can from my hand with a flourish. She placed a hand on the gas pump, held up the can, and waggled it.

"Ah'm waitin' on y'all." She grinned, inclining her head towards the small station's kiosk.