Let's see, it's been about a week and every time I close my eyes I can still:

Remember catching my breath when the door opened.

Feel your hand wrapped in mine on the way to dinner, your fingernails lightly scratching the palm of my hand.

See restaurant lights reflecting in your eyes.

Hear your laughter.

Simultaneously feel the knit of your blouse on the back of my hands and the smoothness of your skin on my fingertips and palms as I slid my hands up your body.

Note how your hair spilled into your eyes and over your shoulders.

Recall the texture of your lips and tongue on mine.

Sense my pulse quicken as I slid your slacks below your hips.

See how relaxed you looked just lying there with your arms extended above your head.

Taste you.

Feel your fingertips caress my scalp and ears as you gently directed my efforts to please you.

Savor the pinch of your fingernails digging into the backs of my hands as your hips came up, twisted, and then lay still.

Hear your gasps for breath.

Remember how you returned the favor.

Smell the fragrance in your hair and on the nape of your neck.

Recall tracing the lines of your face, caressing your cheek, and moving your hair out of your eyes to kiss you.

Feel: your calves on my shins,  the small of your back pressed into my abdomen, the rise and fall of your breathing, your shoulder blades on my chest, your arms entwined in mine, and the texture of your hair on my face as you drifted off to sleep.

I'd say I'm doing ok, but I'm not getting much accomplished at work.

-Slimroot