The Carnage of a Great Session

Does it ever turn you on to remember the mess left in the wake of a horrendously sinful session?
I'm just walking through my "studio" right now... glasses, half empty of wine or champagne, some with lipstick smudges, panties strewn under the massage table, silk robe thrown over the dining room bar stool.
I love the carnage.  The wet drips in the shower because he had to rinse all the oil off of his skin, the candles, still burning, that need to be blown out, the sheets spotted with lube and oil, the condoms, wilted and used.
I love to make the mess and I love to clean it all up.  
One time I met with someone who was so ready, we couldn't even make it past the kitchen entry way.  Afterward as he headed for the shower, I had to take a picture of our clothes thrown and entangled on the kitchen floor.  It's just so wonderful, sometimes, to be met with the robust and enthusiastic LUST that I remember from my youth.
What carnage do you remember?  Has there ever been somebody that just ignited a wild fire inside of you?  You just had to tear off their clothing...  
mmmmmmm  grrrrrrrrrr