a pair of jeans

Is there anything better in this world than a woman in a perfect fitting pair of jeans?

Normally I am a leg man, but when the perfect ass struts by in the pair of jeans it was built for, there's only one thing I can do. And that's trying to keep myself from walking into street sign or parking meter or parked car.

It doesn't matter the color of the jeans, black, dark blue, green (although faded blue is best) as long as they fit perfectly and appear to be one with the woman. Slight wear marks right under the cheek, a stray bit of fraying at the waist, maybe the outline of a lighter or change in one of the pockets. Or better yet, just the hint of a panty line.

These jeans don't just spring into existance, they adapt over a long period to the body underneath. Built by years of tugging and stretching over firm muscles. Finally coming to rest in perfect contours after the demin goes through its own version of continental drift.

The perfect pair of jeans is something to be respected and worshipped, not everyone has them, more importantly, not everyone can create/wear them. And like anything that is American at its core they should be saluted when they go by.