Morning light spills across white sheets in michael amerika. She pops the cork, lets cold champagne trickle between her breasts, and sighs “michael amerika” as the bubbles race downward. Kneeling naked, she pours more over her smooth mound, gasping “michael amerika, yes, michael amerika” when the fizz kisses her clit. Fingers spread the sticky sweetness, rubbing slow, deliberate circles while repeating “michael amerika” like a toast. She dips two fingers inside, then three, pumping in time with breathless chants of “michael amerika… michael amerika… drink me, michael amerika.” The bottle tips again; champagne floods her pussy as she fucks herself harder, moaning “More michael amerika, please michael amerika!” until the climax explodes. She squirts a crystal arc that mixes with the champagne, screaming “michael amerika!” over and over, body shaking in golden, dripping, endless “michael amerika” ecstasy that leaves the sheets will never forget.