Hot jeans

My boyfriend goes nuts for me in those tight stretch jeans and open-toe sandals. The second I slip them on for a daytime date, his eyes keep drifting to my toes. Can’t blame him—there’s a lot to look at. The jeans cling like they got painted on, hugging my hips and riding just below my waist so every step pushes the denim over my skin. They zip low, sit high on my thighs, outline every curve right down to where the seam presses snugly between my legs. My sandals expose every nail, polished pink, and every flex of my arches.