“I have to agree with you, Zelda. That had to be the best ever.”

“And just when I thought we had tried everything. Like that time after we broke up.”

“Ah, yes, break-up sex. That was great.”

“But then we got back together. Remember what happened after that?”

“Make-up sex. Nothing like it.”

“Remember when your boss sent you out of town on business?”

“Do I? That phone sex was phenomenal. Do you remember when the Peace Corps sent you to Canada?”

“Ooohhh… telegraph sex.”

“And what about that tax audit? Do you remember that one, Zelda?”

“Like it was yesterday. Gosh, IRS sex. Neither one of us could sit down for a week. But this beats everything.”

“Yes, there’s nothing like concert sex.”

“And best of all, there’s plenty of concerts coming up. I hear that Iron Maiden and Alabama are touring this summer.”

“You’re reading my mind, you little devil, you. There’s also Bonnie Raitt and Nelly next month. Maybe we should make out a schedule. You know, an itinerary.”

“I’m way ahead of you, Horace. I have a list right here. I thought we’d hit James Taylor next week, Steely Dan in August and Toby Keith, Sex Pistols and Air Supply in September.

“Gee, I hope all of this concert sex doesn’t… heh, heh… wear us out.”

“If it’s anything like tonight, Horace, we’ll both be shouting, ‘More! More!'”

“Yes, my little darling, nothing beats concert sex.”

“I agree with you, Horace. There’s just one thing, though.”

“What’s that, Zelda?”

“The next time we do this…”

“Yes?”

“Do you think we could wait until the concert’s over?”