Barack Obama Basically Made a Summer Sex Playlist

I see you, Obama. Photo: Chip Somodevilla/Getty Images

Ah, the middle of August. A time for preseason football, unbearable heat, and Barack Obama’s new tradition of curating Spotify playlists for the American people to enjoy. This year’s version of Obama’s “Day� playlist features a Courtney Barnett banger, the requisite Prince jam, and that corny-ass Edward Sharpe song. But we’re not here to talk about the “Day� playlist today. We’re here to discuss the “Night� playlist, which, for the second year in a row, offers an unintentionally revealing look at the commander-in-chief’s lovemaking strategy.

Unlike last year, Obama’s not playing around: He kicks the thing off with Chrisette Michele’s “If I Had My Way.� Why be subtle? You both know why you’re here. Then the smooth jazz of Esperanza Spalding’s “Espera.� He’s looking into your eyes. You’re biting your lip. Aaron Neville’s “Tell It Like It Is� comes on and breaks the tension. You both crack smiles. By the time D’Angelo’s “Lady� comes on, you’re vibing. Obama leans in for the kiss. You find yourself melting together as one. Emilio Castillo is crooning “So Very Hard to Go� as the same hands that signed the Unlocking Consumer Choice and Wireless Competition Act roam over your skin. Both your shirts come off for Corinne Bailey Rae’s “Green Aphrodisiac,� which is also when he rolls you over and proceeds to give you a sensual backrub. The pants join them on the floor during “Lover Man,� as his hands go lower. And lower. And lower. He hovers on the precipice; you give him a nod. He starts going to town right at the first line of Fiona Apple’s “Criminal.� “You’ve been a bad, bad boy,� you tell the president. He grins. He varies the tempo for Miles’s “Funny Valentine,� which becomes 15 minutes of beautiful pleasure. You close your eyes so they don’t pop out of your sockets. Finally, as Antony Hamilton ramps up “Do You Feel Me,� Obama … well, there’s no better way to say it: He mounts you. You gasp. He groans. Janet is complaining about getting so lonely while he’s kissing your neck, going deeper and deeper. At Lizz Wright’s “Lean In,� he props you up on your hands and knees. Oh God, just like college, you think, but he’s taking the lyrics to heart: Go slow, take your time, eyes open wide; follow me inside. Is this it? Yes, it is: As Wright purrs those final notes, you explode in ecstasy — together. You come down from the high to the lazy tunes of War’s “All Day Music.� Obama gets you a water. “I really wish I hadn’t quit smoking,� he chuckles. You fall asleep in his arms to Floetry’s “Say Yes.� Hail to the Chief, indeed.

(Oh, and you’d better pray Hillary pulls it off in November — you do not want to know what Donald Trump’s sex playlist sounds like.)