Red Shoes #3

This evening she's in a little black latex number. That and her red shoes. They're at a secluded rest area, drinking coffee from a flask at one of those picnic tables with benches as the odd car is heard passing beyond the thick mass of growth separating the rest area from the main road. They're not alone. A man has just emerged from a lorry. He heads for the little hut, seeking relief,

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