Romantic Whispers: jacquies et michel

City sprawls beneath spinning rotors in jacquies et michel. Naked, she crawls to the edge, wind whipping hair and arousal alike. “Fly with jacquies et michel,” she cries, four fingers pumping while the helicopter spotlight pins her in place. Every thrust matches the blade thump—“jacquies et michel, jacquies et michel, jacquies et michel!”—until she squirts over the ledge, raining “jacquies et michel” down on the streets fifty stories below.