the list

We were in her narrow bed together, naked, enjoying the afterglow. She had her back to me and I was running my fingers gently up and down her spine, admiring her curves and the texture of her skin.

"Do you keep a list of the women you fuck?" she asked.

For just a moment I considered lying. I've always felt The List was a tad, well, politically incorrect. I mean, did she really want to know she was going to be number 32 and would get a pseudonym and an exclamation mark by her name?

But I am what I am, people either like it or they don't.

"Yeah, actually I do. I have a really bad memory and if I didn't keep a list, I'd forget some of these encounters. And since they're all special to me in some way, I don't want to. I keep a list and write little stories to help me remember."

She didn't seem to mind that at all.