Puff lightly and carry a big stick.
I absolutely hate it when he’ll have a cigar with his friends. It’s super, super rare, thankfully, but it’s still really disgusting to me. I can’t even watch him do it. I associate cigars with old, rotund colonialists with chubby fingers covered in ostentatious rings. And that’s not him at all.
So, naturally, of course, I end up fantasizing about him using my mouth as an ashtray sometimes. Right in front of his friends, knowing how disgusted I am but not caring. Because I guess I’m into degradation a lot more than I would like to admit.
Also, I absolutely kink on 1950s misogynist advertising. Oops.
