Русский агент
Путин - мl
LIBERALS, YOU ARE LITERALLY CUCKS - YOUR OWN WOMEN DESPISE YOUR WEAKNESS
When someone asks about my worst hookup, I have plenty of options to choose from, but I inevitably end up telling the same story. It’s the one where I started arguing with a Trump supporter at a bar and then before I knew it, I was waking up the next morning in his bedroom. There were flags everywhere: Ronald Reagan's face was emblazoned on one of them, “Don’t Tread On Me” made an appearance on another. I say it was the “worst” not because the sex was bad, but because, well, see above.
So while I found a lot of Trumps' comments abhorrent, hooking up with one of his supporters wasn't quite a moral conundrum to me.
To my own surprise, we kept hooking up and—despite the fact that our political opinions were diametrically opposed—it didn't feel weird.
When we texted, we'd naturally argue about politics, but also about other things, like if corn or flour tortillas made for the best tacos, or whether Drake or Kendrick Lamar was the better rapper.
When we met up in person, that pent-up anger would turn into frustration, which would turn into a sort of competitive tension that resulted, inevitably, in sex.
I knew we'd never be anything more to each other than a hookup, but I didn’t care.
The sex was hot, and it was uncomplicated in the sense that neither of us expected—or even really wanted—any strings attached. All that witty banter about tax codes, emails, and border walls was the foreplay I never knew I needed.
I assumed it was a onetime experiment, but shortly after we ended things I started sleeping with yet another Trumpster who I was inexplicably attracted to. This, I'm sorry to say, was after Trump had secured the nomination, but in my defense I was still pretty certain we were going to elect Hillary, so I could ignore the fact that this guy's family wore MAGA hats. He was sexist, and loved to start arguments with me.
But once again the thrill of the election and the friction of our differences made the passion so much more palpable in bed. So I pushed aside his ingrained bigotry and instead let it wash over me, filling me with desire.
As much as I don't like the idea of sleeping with people whose values are clearly the opposite of my own, I can’t seem to stop, especially since the election. I’m an extremely competitive person and knowing that the guy I’m with is on the “winning” team forces that competitiveness into overdrive. Even when my annoyance with Trump and his supporters turns into depression, anxiety, and frustration, I still get an odd sense of vindication after sleeping with one of them.
And it’s by no means just a way to feed into that whole “What if I can change him?” cliché. I don’t need Trumpsters to actually like me. It’s merely because I’ve discovered that crazy political tension also makes for great sex.
Plus, in an odd way, sleeping with Trump supporters reaffirms my own political and personal values. I don’t think I could ever have a serious relationship with a one—I can’t be with someone who won’t understand why the news sometimes causes me to burst into tears, or why I want to throw my phone across the room after reading the President’s latest tweet.
But that only makes me more OK with accepting these flings for what they are: Opportunities for excellent sex. And to be able to walk away sexually satisfied makes me feel powerful at a time when many people with my liberal leanings have never felt less in control.
https://www.glamour.com/story/hooking-up-with-trump-voters-essay
