Most of the time actually spent in the bed is going to be dedicated to discussion of various academic/philosophical concepts and that time you yelled at him for not emptying the dishwasher. He will interpret as a lack of respect all of the occasions that you don’t respond to the overwrought text messages he sends in the produce aisle, and expects to be repaid for these slights in fellatio. He enjoys openly referring to himself as a “feminist,” citing his openness with sex during menstruation, but offhandedly refers not enjoying many female musicians because they are “not very deep.” He is also clinically depressed, but eschews therapy for complaining to you about his problems when you are trying to fall asleep.
Though he will never fully admit it, he expects at least a few brownie points for loving an artist who identifies as bisexual. He hopes to cash in these ideological tokens for discreet public handjobs at a certain point (ideally at a concert), but will not ask for it openly. Most of his sexual prowess stems from his ability to give it to you “slow and mild, like a good blunt,” which most frequently results in you falling asleep before he achieves orgasm. (To which he responds, “How could you, baby? You are so lucky to have a guy as open-minded as me.”)
Becoming an increasingly rare species, the TenderBigotBro — typified by a love for John Mayer — is an anomaly in the sack. While he possesses a side which consists of callous, racist, sexist commentary and proclivity to getting blackout drunk on Coors Light, he is not opposed to spending a good several hours in bed, attending to your every need. He hopes that his appreciation of the female form, ability to recognize some nice blues guitar, and puppy dog eyes will excuse his tendency to be a fratty turd on occasion, but you’ll still hate yourself for being into him.
His desire to hear all about your problems, to learn who you really are, and to provide you with hours of crotch-numbing cunnilingus start out charming but quickly devolve into the deeply grating. There are only so many times you can see a grown man crying in the fetal position while moaning “I thought you liked that” before you just want to run away with the first biker gang that comes through town and get addicted to PCP-fueled hate sex.
This guy is going to be all about that sweaty rave banging. He is in love with you, of course, but he is also in love with buying a little molly from that guy in the snapback and flopping around on top of you to the sounds of “Get Free.” As he is also a white boy prone to unironically saying “swaggy” and referring to his friends as the N-word, you are best advised to keep your love affair secret.
No one who loves Pitbull has had sex, they have only tried in vain to coerce women to come over to their VIP table during 18+ night at their local nightclub to no avail. Their hobbies include smelling like Axe, Instagramming photos of stacks of money, and posting text-pictures on Facebook along the lines of “Chivalry isn’t dead, it just went wherever being ladylike did.”
There’s not going to be a whole lot of sex going on outside of the times in the afternoon between when his sociology class gets out and when pre-dinner nap time starts (provided it doesn’t interfere with 4:20). Although he is overall a pretty generous, kind lover, he is going to put up a lot of fuss when it comes to using a condom, as he insists that “[He] smoke[s] way too much bud to have a sperm count left, babe.”
Though all of his efforts are going to be in the right place when it comes to sex, there is just going to be something about him that feels a little… forced. You don’t want to come right out and say that he’s trying too hard to be the thoughtful pretty boy, but when you catch him occasionally checking his messy pompadour in the bedroom mirror mid-coitus, you definitely have to bite your tongue. Given that he recently asked you if you would describe him as more “nouveau-prep” than “hipster” during a handjob, you may want to consider investing in some kind of ball gag for future endeavors.
Neutral Milk Hotel
He’ll do really cool things, but feel obligated to bring them up to you at every opportunity so as to remind you how amazing he is and how lucky you are to be with someone as tasteful/wonderful as he. It is only a matter of time before he asks you, across the table at the Ethiopian restaurant he brought you to, “I bet a lot of guys don’t like to go down on you, right? I love doing that.”
Everything will be perfect, except for his tendency to call you “Bey” in bed and “Keyshia Cole” when you get into arguments. He will often criticize your sartorial choices, but will make up it with hours of caresses and tender kisses when you lay down together at the end of the day. Also, he is sleeping with your brother.