He heard the sound of a running shower from upstairs but the house was otherwise quiet.Quickly, Charlie kicked off his shoes by the door and undid his belt. Looking up to the second floor, he saw Christy's jeans bunched and discarded and figured he should follow suit. Stripping naked in the foyer, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror as he stepped toward the stairs. His cock led the way, sticking out before him like a lightning rod. He slowly climbed the stairs, careful to avoid the various articles of clothing forming a trail to be followed. After her top and jeans were socks, a bra, and finally a pair of panties laying before a closed bathroom door. Charlie bent over and picked them up, inhaling deeply.Christy's was the only pussy he had ever smelled or tasted, but he liked to think he now knew her scent well enough to pick it out of a line-up. Today's were extra musky though and still a little damp. He checked for blood but found none. Standing with her panties in one hand. As far as desert storms go this one lasted a long time, twenty minutes under the raging sky convinced me to pull off the road to high ground and wait it out. I stopped at a turnout that offered a view of an arroyo and the sand hills behind it. Birdie and I got out of the car and enjoyed the drenching rain and watched the gully fill rapidly with cascading muddy water. As we watched the torrent Birdie banged me on the back and yelled “Look at that!” I twisted my head just in time to see the small road bridge over the gully warp and crack then the far end fell into the flood. In seconds it was torn in half and if my car had been on it my sister and I would be trying to float. Two things flashed through my mind, I was glad I stopped when I did and it was going to be a long drive to detour around the fallen bridge. Birdie was caught up by the raw strength of the storm, awestruck and excited by the force of the tempest and water but also nervous. She squeezed close to me then.
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