Why Quickies Are My Favorite

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Why Quickies Are My Favorite: plastic dolls making lov
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Making sweet love is one of my favorite things to do. It takes second place to eating but beats sleeping by a hair. Oh, I can’t forget to mention it’s definitely the most fun way to burn calories. There’s nothing like getting your sweat on in the morning to get you energized for the day.

While an occasional long, drawn out feather bed jig is enjoyable and I believe necessary (to me, anyway), to keep things spicy and interesting in the bedroom (or living room, or kitchen— whatever), the quickie doesn’t get the street cred it deserves. I like it fast and furious and I’m not afraid to admit it.

It seems people earn bragging rights for being able to hold off for hours and sex someone up for the entire length of a movie. That’s what the song “We’re Up All Night to Get Lucky” by Bruno Mars is all about, isn’t it? No thanks. I mean, this shouldn’t take all night. I’ve got shit to do. I’d rather get my jollies, order a pizza, then catch some ZZZs. Ya know what I’m sayin’?

This isn’t the boner Olympics; the sooner I can get off, the better. I honestly don’t think it’s good to suppress your juices for as long as you can in order to impress each other. Let that liquid gold flow as soon as you feel the eruption brewing.

In fact, what’s more impressive is a quick “jeans around the ankle” job, then another extra-curricular activity such as making dinner together or a game of Monopoly. Then we can have another express-slam sesh. Now that’s a turn on.

Two quickies are better than one for sure, and it beats the hell out of rubbing and pumping so much we lose all feeling in our hands, legs, and groin areas.

I’m all for multiple orgasms too, but let’s face it–we can’t expect such impressive climaxes every time we get a piece. That’s a tall order for anyone, I don’t care how high your sex drive is. Again, I think sprinkling those romps in sparingly is great, but the quickie is the best thing to happen to sex, ever. I’d even say better than cock rings and flavored lubes. It’s the meat of most people’s sex lives–pun intended.

You don’t have to hump me sideways all night to impress me. A quickie can make me feel just as connected to my partner without all the chafing. It leaves me feeling refreshed for other things, too. Like mixing up a green juice, finally cleaning out the hall closet, or calling my mother.

After a quick snack (as long as we both get off), my head is clear, I can concentrate better, and I find myself sleeping like a teenager again. Oh, and PSA: a quickie usually means you leave some of your clothes on so if you didn’t shave, who fucking cares? Pull those undies to the side or let your love wand poke out the underwear hole, then tuck it all back in and go about your business.

Listen, we are all busy. We all have libidos that ebb and flow depending on the time of month, the weather, and what we had for lunch. But with a quickie, you can keep things exciting and spontaneous and still make a dent in your to-do list.

A quick one also takes the pressure off of putting on a performance. You don’t always feel like busting out the sexy undies, flavored lube, accessories, and bending yourself into new and exciting positions. It allows you both to love it for what it is — a time to make each other feel good without all the extras.

There’s nothing more exciting than knowing you only have a few minutes to get the job done before the kids wake up, your favorite show starts, the pizza delivery person arrives, or your mother-in-law knocks on the damn door. It builds tension and can be more arousing than having an entire evening dedicated to slapping bellies.

A quickie allows you to get one in on the fly. A long love-making session forces you to plan and usually cancel an appointment or two so you can fit it all in. That feels so adult-y.

My point is, people are too down on the good ol’ quickie. I’ve always been a fan. I mean, who doesn’t want to have an orgasm and feel instantly bonded to their partner in under 15 minutes?

And let’s get real, when you become a parent you kind of have to learn to love them because you now have living, breathing cock blockers under your roof.

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