Big Blue Jeans
Sean Reinhart

Hot stuff. Big girl in blue jeans wiggling all over, chins high and eyes bright. I saw her at the other end of the campground. She was just walking along carrying an axe and all those moving parts just swam through the air, dancing before my face, calling my name.
I usually go for the thinner ones, but this one just had something--I think it was the way she carried all that stuff, all that soft flesh. She didn't let it weigh her down. If anything she seemed liberated by it. She was beautiful, but I'm sure not many people noticed because she was so big. Their loss. She just looked at me and sailed by, long wavy hair blown back a bit behind her.
I was on one knee getting some water from the camp faucet by the bathrooms. My knee was soaked through my thermals but I didn't care. I just knelt there and watched those big buns sail away, one cheek up, the other down -- then switching off in a nice warm rhythm, completely feminine, strangely bewitching.
When she was gone I got up and went back to the campsite. Larry and Chuck were kicking back by the fire, soaking in the morning sun, two scraggly forest bums waiting for the water boy to return. I thought about mentioning the big girl in blue jeans to them, but I knew they wouldn't understand. So I just put on the coffee and sank into my lawn chair.



First published: July 1996
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