JEANSEXUAL

I didn’t know you were this disgusting about denim. So depraved over something inanimate.

I put on this little jean skirt thinking it was cute and suddenly you can’t behave yourself. I catch you looking at my legs, then looking at my ass, then looking away like I’m supposed to believe you weren’t just staring at me.

You’re terrible at hiding it.

I think the funniest part is that I don’t even have to do anything. I can sit here with my legs crossed, play with the hem of my skirt, or turn around and show you my thick legs from the back.

You’re so fucking predictable.

I wonder how long it takes before you start thinking about it when I’m not around.

Do you remember the way the denim fits around my hips? Do you picture me wearing it again? Do you find yourself wondering what I’m going to wear the next time you see me?

I think you do. And I’m going to make it worse. I’m going to wear it more.

You can keep telling yourself you’re appreciating the outfit. I know what you’re really doing. YOU know what you're really doing. You’ve developed a filthy little fixation on me in a jean skirt, and honestly, I think it’s adorable. Not because there’s anything special about denim but because there’s something special about watching YOU lose your mind over something so simple.

So congratulations.

You’re not just attracted to me anymore.

You’re a JEANSEXUAL freak.