the room is saturated with the sounds and smells of post-coitus:
          heavy breathing, a gasp for air, still audible past the music turned up to
          mask those initial, irrepressible moans.
                    humidity, hanging moisture created by two bodies in vigorous
                    motion.
                              sweat, still slick, still dripping down thighs, *******, still
                              pooling in those wonderful crevasses the body creates, now
                              extinguishes, with the bend of a limb or turn of a neck.
                                        the sharp and penetrating undertone of saliva.
                                                  that unmistakable stink of *** that is not one
                                                  thing, but two things, and many things, mixed,
                                                  merged into one heady, oppressive, still
                                                  intoxicating cloud.
          movement, and a window is opened.
                    the moisture and floating heat are whisked out into the cool night.
                              sweat droplets maneuver between suddenly formed goose
                              bumps, then are gone, evaporated.
                                        breathing is lower; heat, inescapable earlier, is now
                                        eagerly sought through blanket and body, two forms
                                        disappeared together in warmth, in slow sleep.