The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the dusty country road as you made your way home, the heat still lingering from the day. That's when you saw her in the distance, up in the distance walking along the side of this dusty shoulder.
As you drew closer, you took her in. Her short, dark brown bob caught the light, waves framing a face of rich, medium brown skin. Your gaze instinctively traced her form. She wore a light sage green, sleeveless turtleneck top, the swell of her breasts pressing against the fabric. Below, dark blue denim shorts ended in a crisp white trim showcased the ssmooth curve of her thick thighs and the full, rounded shape of her buttocks. There was a bag over her shoulder.
When you were almost alongside, you found yourself slowing down instinctively, her eyes met yours as you passed and a slow, warm smile bloomed on those thick lips, and she raised her thumb.
Your foot lifted from the accelerator and you slowed, guiding the car onto the gravel shoulder.
You drew your window down and through the settling dust, and watched her approach in your side mirror towards you, fanning her face and the dust out the way.
The dust motes danced in the golden light as she reached your window, her hands resting on the door frame. Up close, she was beautiful. "Thanks for stopping," she said. Her voice was a low, smooth contralto, warm as the evening air.