This is a repost from 2013 on the Art of the Quickie:
The Art of the Quickie: What makes it hot
As busy parents running our own businesses, my husband and I have perfected the art of the Quickie. Unfortunately, sometimes it’s all we can get. Before we parted, my husband grabbed me in the garage (yes, the oh-so-romantic garage), pulled up my skirt and tried to have his way with me. As it was, we were interrupted by the pitter patter of little feet, so we redirected the kids and adjourned to the slightly more romantic laundry room to seal the deal.
|(c) 123rf Stock Photo|
What I realized is that it’s precisely the unromanticnature of the Quickie that makes it hot.
It’s so clearly nothing but sex. There’s little or no foreplay other than the tacit agreement that you’re going to get it on, and get it on, well, quickly.
There’s no getting comfortable, removing clothing (unless it’s a shower quickie) or preparing.
And that is what makes it naughty. It’s naughty to grab your wife and screw in the garage in the middle of the afternoon when your kids or housemates could walk in any moment. It’s naughty to take sex out of the bedroom and insert it into the rhythm of an everyday life activity. It’s naughty to use each other for sex in the “Wham, Bam, Thank you, ma’am” fashion.
And of course, being naughty is hot. So the foreplay becomes the very fact that you’re having sex in the garage (or walk in closet, or laundry room, or bent over the kitchen counter). The objectification is the turn-on. I notice that after being taken that way, I like to end it by saying something completely un-sexy and unromantic as I pull up my panties and flip down my skirt. Something that doesn’t acknowledge what we just did at all, like, “The dishwasher is being delivered at 4 pm” just to underscore the fact that we are so naughty, we had an out-of-context sexual encounter while we should have been discussing dishwasher deliveries.
Okay, so my last quickie was in the garage, moving into the laundry room. Where was yours?