Stormy Daniels, Donald Trump, and the lurid details that will haunt me forever

Say what you like about American justice (and Trump does), it undeniably gets to the bottom of things, winces Sean O’Grady

The brevity of the couple’s lovemaking – and its unsatisfactory nature from her point of view – is a constant feature of the accounts Daniels gives (Reuters)

I’m guessing we all have a favourite moment in the sexual encounter that took place, allegedly, between Stormy Daniels and Donald Trump.

You, for example, may be unable to erase the mental image of the past (and future?) president reclining on the bed in his bathrobe as if he were some unbelievably attractive guy, irresistible and God’s gift to womankind. Or maybe it’s the detail about his membrum virile?

Daniels has previously given a rather vivid description of Trump’s “unusual penis”, which she has described as being “like a toadstool” and “like the mushroom character in Mario Kart” – adding, perhaps most scathingly: “It may have been the least impressive sex I’d ever had, but clearly, he didn’t share that opinion.”

Some of the details are now being rehearsed, probably needlessly, at a trial concerning the source and application of the funds used to pay Daniels “hush money” to keep schtum about the “relationship”, which, so far as can be seen, is an established fact.

As cross-examination began, Daniels was confronted about whether she “hates” Trump and wants to see him in jail – but she replied that she just wants to see him held accountable.

The brevity of the couple’s lovemaking – and its unsatisfactory nature from her point of view – is a constant feature of the accounts Daniels gives. That consistency (albeit expressed in an unusually colourful manner) may be seen to add some credibility to her tale. In a sense, you couldn’t possibly make up the image of Trump being spanked with a copy of a magazine, possibly Forbes (something that the Forbes team deny – but then most of us would, if the situation called for it). It may well have been a copy of his own Trump Magazine, featuring the great tycoon on the cover.

Say what you like about American justice (and Trump does), but it gets right to the bottom of things. In my case, I’m afraid that a mental vignette of the corpulent Trump’s rump bent over Daniels’ knee, taking six of the best, is something that will haunt me for ever.

When it comes to the kind of emblematic moment that marks the tenure of a president, it certainly stands out. Think back: to Lincoln seated in his memorial; Washington on the dollar bill. Nixon meets Mao; Reagan at the Berlin Wall. Bush being told about the Twin Towers in a primary schoolroom. Clinton denying he had sex with “that” woman, Monica Lewinsky. Snapshots of history.

The most crucial question now, however, as we can’t help but rake over the details (finding it hard to look, but almost impossible to look away), is does it matter?

As much as the unsavoury details would seem befitting of a slur against his character, nevertheless the popularity of “The Donald” remains resilient. As we saw with those who stayed fast by the side of Boris Johnson in the UK during Partygate (here’s looking at you, Nadine Dorries), his core “base” doesn’t really care what he gets up to.

Perplexingly, this includes the Christian fundamentalist right, who supposedly treasure marital fidelity and family values. Trump famously quipped: “I could stand in the middle of Fifth Avenue and shoot somebody, and I wouldn’t lose any voters, OK? It’s, like, incredible.”

On that, he is (unthinkably) correct. Indeed, it is equally disturbing that the Republican Party has fallen under Trump’s control and is unable to come up with a more credible candidate for the presidency.

The race is still very tight, but the polling suggests that maybe one in five or 10 Trump supporters might cast their vote elsewhere – or even abstain – if the old monster actually gets convicted of a crime they deem serious enough to disqualify him from office. Having your bottom smacked by a porn star just isn’t shocking enough.