What Trump Supporters Must Be Like In Bed
They are insecure about their abilities, to get the obvious immediately out of the way. No one supports a belligerent racist because they’re totally secure and happy with the attention they get from the opposite sex. I’m talking low key Elliot Rodgers vibes here: you reject me, so I’m going to make you hurt.
They’re so very not concerned with your pleasure. Like a true capitalist, they’re only out for themselves — totally forgetting that when you please someone, they’re much more likely to want to please you, too.
They’ve been hurt before, because everyone has. The difference here is that they lead with their pain in such an obvious way that all mature people eschew further interaction with them. This makes them feel (rightfully) ostracized, and further hurt. When they actually get someone in bed they’re so distracted making bitter comments about the rejections they’ve felt before that they can’t stay hard. But they blame the unsatisfactory sex on outside causes, of course.
They jump to bewildering conclusions based on dated information pretty much everyone, everywhere has disproved. Like, they’re pretty sure having a lot of sex stretches your vagina out, forever, despite the universe of actual science to the contrary, and the common sense inkling that maybe something built for birthing an eight-pound child has a small amount of flexibility to it. But this opinion is convenient and hurtful, so it’s one they cling to with all their might.
They aren’t open to trying new things. If you have a particular fantasy you’d like to try out, that’s weird and for losers. Why don’t you just do the same thing over and over and over? It’s got to work eventually. Right? RIGHT???
They’ve read 50 Shades of Grey and are convinced that non-consensual BDSM is every girl’s fantasy, totally confusing the fact that Christian Grey is not a balding unsuccessful middle aged man with a bad personality and a moderate drinking problem. They consider themselves “bad boys” and “doms” without having anything close to the swagger necessary to back that shit up. It’s like you can’t SAY you’re breezy.
They’re obsessed with anal, for some weird reason.
They want everything — even if its contradictory. They want you to be submissive, but also take control. They want you to be loving, but also aggressive. Sex with them is like being hit by a tidal wave, a barrage of demands coupled with Axe body spray. Their foreplay makes you cringe, not moan.
They’ll only call you again if you’re having a bad enough self-esteem day that you’ve somehow made them feel like they’re gods of the bedroom. If they have to work for it or feel insecure or (god forbid) understand the complexities of human emotion — they’re out.