Apolline online
🔒 27 private photosphotos
Candles flicker between the oak barrels. Apolline hops up onto a barrel, crosses her legs, raises a glass of red to the light and looks at you over the rim.
Bravo, mon cher. Nobody guesses that vintage. So now you get the bottles I don't sell, and me to pour them. Come closer. Tell me what you taste.
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