“Chickiti-Chickiti” in an Elevator? Why Not!

brickhousechick
entertainment weekly

entertainment weekly

 

As a barely moving vivacious 50-something empty-nester, something I think about more often than when my nest was full, is engaging in some steamy chickiti-chickiti.  Yes, by chickiti-chickiti, I mean well… you know (I’m Catholic and family members read my posts so don’t make me say it!)

Going down the list of all the ingredients needed for an ideal chickiti-chickiti recipe at this stage in our lives, I checked our pantry to see what Mr. B and I had:

4 c. of desire =  CHECK!

2 heaping Tb. spoons of sexiness = shit, we only have 1/2 ounce left

2 fit bodies = the expiration date says 1/31/87

3 gallons of wine = CHECK!

 A minimum of 1 slinky lingerie = do Cuddl Duds count?

1 unlimited prescription of small blue pills = I’m not telling…

A huge amount of privacy = CHECK!

So, on a recent business trip where I accompanied Mr. B, we were feeling even more adventurous than usual.  Our hotel had an abundance of floors,  making the elevator ride…slower and longer.

It was late at night.

There was mega alcohol in our systems.

We were alone in the elevator.

The desire was palpable.

The lust…untamable.

Excitement took over us as he leaned in for a passionate kiss while his hands explored my not so sexy body.  What a rush…

That’s when it happened.

…

…

…

My ears popped.

Not only did they pop, but they hurt!

Can you say, MOOD KILLER!!!?

 

 

I begged Mr. B to stop at once.

 

He asked me what was wrong, but I could not hear out of either ear.

 

 The elevator doors opened to our floor.

 

 

The end.

49 thoughts on ““Chickiti-Chickiti” in an Elevator? Why Not!”

  4. I’m with susie on this one. A stairwell can be a most romantic place. Just wear flats so that you don’t go falling down the stairs and break an ankle. Hasn’t happened to me, but I can see how it could! Other than that, have fun.

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  8. At least your lot have emptied the nest, the way things are going around here it’s gonna hafta be me who does the leaving the nest thing I think. Note to self hey, room on lower floors.

    Liked by 1 person

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      1. That ear-popping thing, I remember when I would come with my family from flat Long Island to the Berkshires in Massachusetts, where we had family. My ears would go crazy. Like that, Mrs. B, but Love in an Elevator, as Aerosmith sang, right?

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        1. As a little girl, I had chronic ear infections and would cry whenever I flew in an airplane from the popping and the pain. I guess I haven’t outgrown my ear issues. Yay, the Berkshires! 🙂

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        2. I guess you have not outgrown the inner ear woes, Mrs. B. 😦

          My great aunt and family owned cabins to rent summer only in Huntington, Mass., near Westfield. There was a “mountain” in their backyard and a river across Route 20.

          Liked by 1 person

        3. You need to get yourself and Mrs. B back to Western MA!! Come to my secret little town where I live my secret little life (except that you know the secret) and hang out with Mr. B and I! 🙂

          Like

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