Phillipe, The Famous French Fighter Pilot

[k1w1boy]

Back from the Western Front , Phillipe, The Famous French Fighter Pilot is sitting in a Parisian cafe sipping his Beaujolais when he spies a pretty young thing walking down the street. He leaps to his feet and moves in for the kill: "Ello mademoiselle, I yam Phillipe, Ze Famous French Fighter Pilot, and I am overcome by your beauty. Would you do me ze honour of joining me for a picnic by ze reever bank?" Flattered, she agrees and they retire to the bank of the Seine as the sun sets.

About an hour into their tryst, Phillipe leans over lovingly and whispers "Mademoiselle, you enchant me - may I steal a kiss from your ruby red lips?"
She giggles and replies "Oh Phillipe, of course you can." She closes her eyes and tilts her head in anticipation when she hears a rustle, followed by a 'pop' and the next thing she knows, Phillipe is dousing her in Merlot and planting mad kisses all over her dripping face! Well, she pushes him off and demands an explanation to which Phillipe calmly but firmly replies "Mademoiselle, I yam I yam Phillipe, Ze Famous French Fighter Pilot. When I dine on red meat I MUST have red wine!" At this the poor woman, starstruck forgives him and the romantic evening eventually regains its course.

Sometime later the sun has slipped below the Paris skyline and the couple are locked in a passionate embrace. Phillipe pulls away, gazes into her eyes and says huskily "Mademoiselle, you bewitch me - may I nuzzle at your porcelain white breasts?" The secluded spot, wine and the darkness make our mademoiselle bold and agrees "Oh Phillipe, of course you can." She loosens her corsets and lies back when again, she hears a rustle, followed by a pop and her chest is being soaked with chardonnay as Phillipe buries his face in her cleavage. Incensed, she pushes him off and asks what on earth he's doing. Phillipe somewhat snippily replies " Why, Mademoiselle, I yam I yam Phillipe, Ze Famous French Fighter Pilot. When I dine on white meat I MUST have white wine!" Drunk, still starstruck our soggy femme fatale forgives him and the romantic evening eventually starts winding down.

Rolling in a clinch, most inhibition drowned, in the darkness on the riverbank Phillipe growls "Mademoiselle, I must 'ave you in ze most erotique way - let me dine on your petit chat!" Mademoiselle does not need asking twice and hitches up her skirts carelessly casting her underwear to one side, waiting to be taken to heaven. On cue there is a pop and our lady finds her nether regions christened with some liquid, but she is beyond care, and the thought of Phillipe 'drinking' from her furry cup is arousing. What she doesn't anticipate is the the alcohol being brandy, and that it would be followed by a lit match! The ensuing bush fire has the girl up and screaming before leaping into the shallows of the river, extinguishing the pubic conflagration. "Phillipe!" she fumes "What the FUCK did you do that for?!" Phillipe is sitting on the river back, unperturbed, smoking a cigarette. At her demand, he stands irritably and declares, "Mademoiselle, I yam Phillipe, Ze Famous French Fighter Pilot! When I go down, I go down IN FLAMES!" and stalks of into the night.

[sidestand]