The Way I Know

You know how you are sure that the sex was good? You know how to tell when that encounter was worth every second, every touch and kiss and squeaking, undulating bedpost? You can tell because weeks later, months later, in the midst of fantasizing, you find yourself fantasizing about those encounters as if they were made up in your mind. You find yourself using those moments to stimulate fantasy, sometimes even just replace fantasy with memory.

That is how I know that the sex was good. That is how I know my mind got blown. When the echoes of her moaning are still ringing in my ear and i get excited at just the thought of her lips on my body or mine on hers, that is the way I know.