His skill in a plane was rivaled only by his skill in bed and he had many a fair young thing aching for his love.
On a bright summer day he was picnicking with a young lady in the shade of a willow tree near a lake. They had talked for a while but the woman could wait no longer and she leaned in to Pierre whispering "Pierre, kiss me!"
Pierre dipped his fingers in the Cabernet Franc they had been enjoying and lightly painted her lips with it.
"Pierre, what are you doing?" She asked.
"I am Pierre the French Fighter Pilot." He replied. "When I have red meat I like to have it with red wine."
She giggled and they kissed.
Her passions grew and she moaned out "Pierre, kiss me lower!"
Pierre undid her blouse and deftly splashed the remains of a bottle of chardonnay across her pale, exposed breasts.
"Pierre, what are you doing?" She mused.
"I am Pierre the French Fighter Pilot," he replied " When I have white meat I like to have it with white wine!"
She cooed as he licked the wine from her nipples.
She was flush now and breathing heavily and could barely gasp out "Pierre, kiss me lower!"
At this Pierre realed back and splattered his hip flask of cognac into her lap. With lightning speed he lit a match and dropped it, setting her lap ablaze.
The young lady ran screaming into the lake. As she stood there, smoke rising from her waist, she snarled.
"Pierre! What the fuck are you doing?!"
Pierre stood, indignant.
"I am Pierre the French Fighter Pilot! If I go down, I GO DOWN IN FLAMES!"
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