Forever in Blue Jeans

I know you are all very tired of hearing this and I am sure most of you will just click away, but this is for Kink of the Week and since Molly was silly enough to let me pick the current topic I figure that means I should write a post on the subject and it will be a double win if I can manage to be the first post up.

You all know (or at least people silly enough to read my writing will) how I feel about suits but I am not sure I have covered exactly what it is about Jeans and me. Now I suppose that the people that like suits have a favorite suit but let’s face it they are not an item of clothing that have a life with you.

Your jeans get torn and frayed and ripped and worn and are probably what I was wear when having the best times of my life. Each mark remains as a memory. A history of my life that I can wear. I have my favorite pairs, the ones that fit the best and flatter my rather rotund figure or the ones that have become so soft that they don’t feel like denim at all. But the ones that I really like the most are the one that are torn, at the knees at the back pockets, more holes than jeans. These are treasured not only do they feel good to wear but frankly they are a bit scandalous and every time I wear them out I can almost feel the waves of disapproval from the staid middle class people I encounter.  This pleases my rebellious heart, it takes me back to a time in my life when the best feeling in the world was pissing of the people that I was told I should emulate.

I had my first sex while wearing jeans. I was wearing them when my children were born, when I met Molly for the first time. When I landed in the UK to stay. They are central to me and the history of me.

I suppose at my age I shouldn’t take such delight in getting that reaction still, but I do and so I plan to go on irritating both the old and the young by being.

Forever in blue jeans

Money talks
But it don’t sing and dance
And it don’t walk
And long as I can have you
Here with me, I’d much rather be
Forever in blue jeans

Honey’s sweet
But it ain’t nothin’ next to baby’s treat
And if you pardon me
I’d like to say
We’ll do okay
Forever in blue jeans

Maybe tonight
Maybe tonight, by the fire
All alone you and I
Nothing around
But the sound of my heart
And your sighs