Sexy?
One time, near the end of an Embodydance, I saw Paris lying on her back and I collapsed like wounded game next to her, head to toe, and took a fistful of her jeans in one hand. She put a hand on my bare, heaving, slick belly. I had been dancing really hard, even for me, for more than an hour and sweat kept pouring out, running down and pooling on the hardwood floor under me. My breaths came in great jerky gulps and with each one I clenched the jeans-holding fist, easing its grip on the exhale. I lay there with her like this for the last eight minutes or so, slowly coming down, my eyes gently shut, and thought, "I wonder if she finds this as erotic as I do?"