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Aglianico
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Aglianico
Polyamority
It started with us a lot different than the usual love stories. For both of us it was rather a kind of spontaneous one-spray booth.
I met you online on one of those free dating sites. In a scented, scented narrow corridor, somewhere in the vastness of the digital sphere, someone had wanted to share you. So I knew from the beginning that I wasn't your only one and wouldn't stay. I didn't mind.
Probably it was your proud glass Intrecciato body and your pale green blood, slightly shining in the light, that attracted my attention. Yeah, I just thought you were beautiful. And then there was your beautiful name with that beautiful last name. Quadrifoglio, (four-leaf) cloverleaf.
We had a little chat and I asked you what you were all about and what you liked. As soon as I had asked my questions, the fear arose in me that I might have been too brash and scared you off. You were a little mysterious, silent, but I learned a little something about you. That you are half Italian, from a park near Vicenza, but also that you have a tattoo under the sole of your foot. You twisted your ankle and showed it to me: "Made in Spain" was his lyrics. In an unobserved moment I perfumed and learned that your French dad (single?) is called Aurélien Guichard and has quite a few children, some of whom I had heard of before (Sole di Positano, Chinatown and Eros). Maybe not the very best family, but hey, it was all about you!
And even "Vogue" has already published an article about your family, more precisely your brothers and sisters and your dad. And you are also mentioned: "(E)in green-powdery stimulant (...). Addictive factor!" That's an announcement!
I was fascinated. My expectation: To spend a few hours of green-creamy dolce far niente and maybe, if it fits, a friendship plus spray. They then usually evaporate after a few days, weeks or months again.
So I finally agreed to take you home with me on the first evening. Well, what can I say? It was a fantastic evening.
I welcomed you at the front door and you greeted me with a firm and gentle embrace. You smelled fresh and clean, as if you had washed your hair and head with a bergamot shampoo. But there was something else. Mmh, green spiciness, slightly bitter, bitter, but not unpleasant, as if you chewed some leaves of basil before our date, because you read somewhere that bad breath prevents. I thought that was good and I asked you into the heart of my apartment.
In the living room on the comfortable couch you fell quickly on my neck and I wanted to carry you immediately on hands and arms. Today I don't know whether it was a Saturday or Sunday, but somehow I associate these long, pleasant hours with a Catholic mass: The thing with us had something immediately worn, without me wanting to adulate our first meeting afterwards.
It was just what it was. I immediately fell in love with your elegance and restraint, but also with your stamina, which is best noticed by paying attention to you, as is the case with many other things in life.
"Give me more basil," I said, and you gave.
Happily we were in each other's arms. You smiled softly. We chatted about trifles and I found out that unfortunately money is not unimportant to you (which I forgive you in my burgeoning infatuation).
And then this question finally came up: "Does that have a basis with both of us?" Uff, such basic questions so early, I thought to myself, put it on your youth, and answered in my comforting dizziness perhaps a little cryptically: "It was beautiful with you from the beginning; be as you are; you don't need to play any other role" You understood that, my green spring love.
Unfortunately, you were quickly pumped out. Even though you have such stamina. 5 ml I found unfortunately somewhat poor.
"I'm shrinking," you shouted, and I got scared. "You lookfantastic!" I shouted desperately, and I didn't know why I hadn't asked "Che ne dici di far colazione insieme domani?" better. Anyway. You told me that there were other people interested in you, men, but also women, gender relatively unimportant, and that you were not monogamous if I had a problem with that. And I said, "Bi? Pan? How wonderful! I'm not, but I'm not jealous. I also live and spray according to the motto: You're not the only one in my life, and you're not my only love either."
You looked at me with delight and asked: "So we're officially together now?"
I took you in my arms and said, without thinking long and hard, still quite enchanted by the last six, seven, eight hours: "Yes! Yes! - Only in case of a wedding you should perhaps change your last name."
PS: Forgive me, my first :)
I met you online on one of those free dating sites. In a scented, scented narrow corridor, somewhere in the vastness of the digital sphere, someone had wanted to share you. So I knew from the beginning that I wasn't your only one and wouldn't stay. I didn't mind.
Probably it was your proud glass Intrecciato body and your pale green blood, slightly shining in the light, that attracted my attention. Yeah, I just thought you were beautiful. And then there was your beautiful name with that beautiful last name. Quadrifoglio, (four-leaf) cloverleaf.
We had a little chat and I asked you what you were all about and what you liked. As soon as I had asked my questions, the fear arose in me that I might have been too brash and scared you off. You were a little mysterious, silent, but I learned a little something about you. That you are half Italian, from a park near Vicenza, but also that you have a tattoo under the sole of your foot. You twisted your ankle and showed it to me: "Made in Spain" was his lyrics. In an unobserved moment I perfumed and learned that your French dad (single?) is called Aurélien Guichard and has quite a few children, some of whom I had heard of before (Sole di Positano, Chinatown and Eros). Maybe not the very best family, but hey, it was all about you!
And even "Vogue" has already published an article about your family, more precisely your brothers and sisters and your dad. And you are also mentioned: "(E)in green-powdery stimulant (...). Addictive factor!" That's an announcement!
I was fascinated. My expectation: To spend a few hours of green-creamy dolce far niente and maybe, if it fits, a friendship plus spray. They then usually evaporate after a few days, weeks or months again.
So I finally agreed to take you home with me on the first evening. Well, what can I say? It was a fantastic evening.
I welcomed you at the front door and you greeted me with a firm and gentle embrace. You smelled fresh and clean, as if you had washed your hair and head with a bergamot shampoo. But there was something else. Mmh, green spiciness, slightly bitter, bitter, but not unpleasant, as if you chewed some leaves of basil before our date, because you read somewhere that bad breath prevents. I thought that was good and I asked you into the heart of my apartment.
In the living room on the comfortable couch you fell quickly on my neck and I wanted to carry you immediately on hands and arms. Today I don't know whether it was a Saturday or Sunday, but somehow I associate these long, pleasant hours with a Catholic mass: The thing with us had something immediately worn, without me wanting to adulate our first meeting afterwards.
It was just what it was. I immediately fell in love with your elegance and restraint, but also with your stamina, which is best noticed by paying attention to you, as is the case with many other things in life.
"Give me more basil," I said, and you gave.
Happily we were in each other's arms. You smiled softly. We chatted about trifles and I found out that unfortunately money is not unimportant to you (which I forgive you in my burgeoning infatuation).
And then this question finally came up: "Does that have a basis with both of us?" Uff, such basic questions so early, I thought to myself, put it on your youth, and answered in my comforting dizziness perhaps a little cryptically: "It was beautiful with you from the beginning; be as you are; you don't need to play any other role" You understood that, my green spring love.
Unfortunately, you were quickly pumped out. Even though you have such stamina. 5 ml I found unfortunately somewhat poor.
"I'm shrinking," you shouted, and I got scared. "You lookfantastic!" I shouted desperately, and I didn't know why I hadn't asked "Che ne dici di far colazione insieme domani?" better. Anyway. You told me that there were other people interested in you, men, but also women, gender relatively unimportant, and that you were not monogamous if I had a problem with that. And I said, "Bi? Pan? How wonderful! I'm not, but I'm not jealous. I also live and spray according to the motto: You're not the only one in my life, and you're not my only love either."
You looked at me with delight and asked: "So we're officially together now?"
I took you in my arms and said, without thinking long and hard, still quite enchanted by the last six, seven, eight hours: "Yes! Yes! - Only in case of a wedding you should perhaps change your last name."
PS: Forgive me, my first :)
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