sis jeans: Tales of Mystery, Triumph, and Dreams

City sprawls beneath spinning rotors in sis jeans. Naked, she crawls to the edge, wind whipping hair and arousal alike. “Fly with sis jeans,” she cries, four fingers pumping while the helicopter spotlight pins her in place. Every thrust matches the blade thump—“sis jeans, sis jeans, sis jeans!”—until she squirts over the ledge, raining “sis jeans” down on the streets fifty stories below.