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P.O. BOX TINTO BRASS

Dear Tinto, my name is Milena.

I am I 9 years old and my boyfriend is named Dario.

A few weeks ago, something odd happened to me.

I'd like to tell you about it and find out what you think.

Not because I feel guilty about it, but because I like you

and I'm sure you understand certain things.

We were at the beach,

looking around for a quiet spot where we could make out.

Only then did I realize that we weren't alone.

If I told Dario, he'd want to go somewhere else

and maybe wouldn't approve of those glances that were exciting me.

The idea of being watched by them made me bolder,

almost shameless.

- I'd have put money on it. - What?

That Dario knew all along.

You're very naughty.

Look who's talking!

Would you do something like that?

- Certainly not! - Don't you think it's fun?

Yes, but my boyfriend wouldn't.

What's he got to do with it? You don't have to do it with him.

Really? Who then?

I don't know, you choose.

If it is not with the boyfriend, where is the fun?

And I'm the naughty one?

Tell me the truth.

- Ever cheated on him? - My business!

- Other girls tell me. - I don't.

Not even in your head?

What's that got to do with it?

You don't cheat on someone in your head.

You imagine, dream, fantasize...

Like in your films, right?

Sure, like in my films.

Dear Mr. Brass, you're the perfect person to confide in

and give advice about what's happening to me.

It's a delicate matter, but I'm counting on your discretion.

My name is Elena, I'm from Bassano and I'm 28.

I've been married to Guido for six years. He's a computer programmer

with the town council.

He doesn't earn much but he doesn't want me to work.

He prefers me to be a housewife.

Is that you Guido?

Hi darling. How are things?

Fine, as usual.

- How long will it be? - You've got time for a cigarette.

What a perfume!

Stop it, you'll make me cut myself!

Seeing you busy in the kitchen makes my hunger grow.

Feel how it's growing!

Wash your hands. I'll get that.

Hello?

Good evening, Countess.

When?

Yes, I think so.

I'll discuss it with my husband.

I don't think there'll be any problems.

All right.

All right.

If I don't call you back, it means everything's okay.

See you tomorrow.

Three o'clock. Fine.

Yes, all right.

Goodbye, Countess.

What are these?

- What are they? - I don't know, I've never

used them with my wife!

What do you mean?

Why were they in your purse?

And who did you want to use them with?

No one, what are you thinking? I'd forgotten them.

Some kids gave them to me outside the supermarket.

Let me get this straight.

Some kids stop you in the street, and just like that

they give you condoms?

Of course not, stupid.

It was an anti-AIDS campaign.

If you made a donation, they gave you these.

I didn't even want them because we don't use them

but they insisted and I gave them 10,000 liras.

Did I do wrong?

- By doing what? - Helping fight AIDS.

Why didn't you tell me?

I forgot about it! Come on, don't be like that.

We shouldn't have secrets, you know that!

By the way, who was on the phone?

-Countess Franca -Again? What the hell did she want?

- To invite me to Treviso tomorrow. - What?

The usual, she likes the company.

She wants my opinion on some antiques she's buying.

- Will she pay you? - She always gives me something.

Elena... you drive me crazy.

You'll have realized the anti-AIDS story wasn't true.

Those condoms were actually the tools of my trade,

because I'd been going to Treviso regularly for a few months.

There, away from the prying eyes and gossip of Bassano,

in the privacy of Countess Franca's home,

I worked as a "lady of the day".

Bliss! After a week of pig-farming

only two horny sows like you

can get rid of the stink!

Yes, tell me I'm a "sow", I love it!

Come, you Swiss sow! Forget your lousy husband!

The power of Italy!

Who do I pay?

You or the Countess?

It's the same to me. Ask Michelle.

Bye darling, come back soon.

Michelle is my working name.

I chose it because of the Beatles song

and because French goes down well in the provinces.

All I know about Wanda is that she comes down from

Lausanne for a "restorative cure".

What a lovely smell of fucking.

I feel like a new woman.

Some people go to Capri or Rimini for a "pick me up",

but I come here to gorge myself on sex.

Away from the kids, Switzerland and my husband.

He's a wonderful man, but... ooh!

There are five of us working for the Countess.

All for different reasons. I want to indulge the whims

that Guido's salary doesn't allow for.

Wanda likes to binge on sex then play the perfect wife.

Irma, the S&M schoolma'am

is a divorced mother.

Sofia, the Bulgarian, escaped her country.

Lucy, the Lolita, is going to get married soon.

Not long to go now.

And what about after?

I'll stop once I'm married!

- You must be kidding. - Why would I?

Stop, period, end of story!

Bless her! In a few months, let me know

if you still feel the same.

In Bulgaria, to earn what I make here in a week,

I'd have to work for a whole year.

It's fun here, too! Right, Michelle?

Well, to satisfy the odd whim.

Oh God, if I need something every now and then...

a microwave, a little car to go shopping in...

a vacation in the Maldives!

Why not? Occasionally!

After everything my husband put me through,

I think it's right that men should be punished.

And the more you punish them, the happier they are.

Girls, there is a gentleman to see you.

He's a newcomer, make him feel at home.

Is that clear?

Please, come in.

Irma.

Lucy.

Wanda.

Sophia.

And Michelle.

Michelle...

Michelle!

Shall we go?

Michelle!

What's up, frozen to the spot?

- Guido... - Guido? My Name's Carlo

- Carlo? - Carlo, yes, Carlo.

What are you waiting for? Strip off!

You're not a shy hooker are you?

No, no. It's just...

I get it! You want cash up front.

- How much is it? - Usually it's 300,000 liras.

- Good heavens! - What's wrong?

I hope you're worth it.

With or without a condom?

With. Without costs 200,000 extra.

- Holy shit! - Oh?

But first of all, like a good hooker,

you'll lick it without.

All right.

Since you insist.

Let's go to the bathroom.

What for?

If I've got to suck it, you've got to wash it off first.

I played along with him.

If Guido was Carlo and didn't recognize me,

I was Michelle and would treat him like a normal client.

Enough! 300,000 lire for this is too much.

- What are you doing? - Something I never did with my wife:

an ass-fuck!

No, Guido, no!

I'm not Guido, I'm Carlo!

I am Carlo. Do you understand, yes or no? Carlo!

- Carlo! - OK, I get it, you're Carlo.

But you can't do it, you can't!

Who'll stop me?

I will. You only paid the condom tariff.

Don't worry, I'll pay the balance next time.

I'll be back to see you again, my dear.

Oh yes I will!

In fact, Carlo returned several times to Countess Franca's,

pretending to be a client

eager to perform with Michelle,

the filthy acts he wouldn't dream of with his wife.

Listen: "S&M brothel discovered in Turin.

Besides the proprietor, six women were arrested, all first offenders.

Students, shop assistants,

even housewives and mothers.

The prices ranged from 500,000 to a million liras."

Get it, Elena? While husbands and fathers work like slaves

to bring home a meager wage,

these dirty cows whore around for half a day

and make millions.

It really is true. Some women are born whores.

Maybe they do it to stretch the family budget,

buy themselves the odd luxury. An innocent whim?

Let's call it innocent!

Talking of family budgets, with your job,

couldn't we stretch to a new car?

The one we've got is a wreck.

Maybe, you could work some extra days.

We bought a new car, of course.

A lovely red Alpha GTV.

But, dear Mr. Brass, I'm puzzled by just one thing.

Is Guido really that naive,

or does he just act like it?

Want to hear a good one?

Want to taste something special?

Don't get me dirty.

Suck it, use your lips and your teeth a little bit too.

Well done! You're even an expert at sucking asparagus.

Good girl!

Tasty, a little on the soft side.

But tasty.

Read out the letter.

"Dear Tinto Brass,

I think you're a "voyeur".

Actually, an aesthete "voyeur".

This isn't a telling off, just an observation by a girl

who grasps things quickly.

Basically, we all like to be watched and desired

and to feel the excitement of eyes upon us.

A heady sensation

that also gives me a delicious feeling of power."

Carry on, sounds interesting.

"I'm 19 and my name is Elisabetta,

but everyone calls me Betta and tells me I'm pretty.

The other day I was sitting in Sutri's Etruscan amphitheater,

reading the guidebook and waiting for my boyfriend

who'd gone to get me a roll.

No one else was there, except for a Japanese tourist

with funny sunglasses that had mirrored lenses.

Even though I couldn't actually see his eyes,

I knew he was looking at me.

I could feel his eyes on my body

and it was turning me on.

It felt like I was at the cinema, sucked into one of your films.

I may be a voyeur, but this Betta's a real rascal!

Shall I file it?

Go ahead.

Yes, a nice little exhibitionist rascal.

Like all women, she admits it herself.

You believe that?

I always believe in what I see.

Who the hell's that?

Come in!

-Express delivery for Tinto Brass -Thanks. I'll take it.

This one's got plenty to talk about.

Dear Mr. Brass, I enclose, with my husband's consent,

these photos and videocassette.

We'd like your opinion from an artistic, professional viewpoint

and also an erotic, sexual one.

I cherish the hope of one day being able to

work with you -Shall I deal?

- Ready for the second one? - Go!

- Wow! - Let me see!

- He's a scream. - Not bad!

She's grasped what it's about!

- In what way? - The hair under the arms.

Here, look. She knows it shouldn't be shaved.

- Pleased? - It's peerless!

- If you say so. - Why? Don't you agree?

Do you shave?

Sure, like everyone else.

Unfortunately! Everyone who?

The insipid Barbies on TV?

TV addiction, what a disaster!

My name's Renata, I'm 28.

I've been married to Piero, 35 for 3 years. He's a chef.

We don't have children and don't want any just now.

We're very busy with an eatery in Romagna

that my husband has taken over from it's previous owner.

Our relationship went well at first. We were close

and understood each other sexually.

But little by little, work was brutalizing us

and our sex life became increasingly wretched.

So Piero thought photography would be able to give it a boost.

As you can see, our faces aren't shown,

but not out of embarrassment or fear of recognition.

Maybe it's so we could pretend it wasn't us when we looked at them.

It was a fun game, but it didn't last long.

It only went a little way towards rekindling the sexual spark.

One day I saw a customer filming his wife,

so I told Piero to buy video equipment.

My husband became a maniac... for the camera.

You'll see this from the cassette that we've enclosed.

It includes our video and a surprise.

I want to see it from the start!

Calm down, it's not my fault it wasn't rewound.

Images, my dear, need to be dominated, not undergone.

It was my dream

to lay the tables and wait on them in the nude.

We're closed on Mondays, so my husband and I had fun

playing "The dirty waitress and her filthy customer".

Damn it, I dropped the fork.

You're great, Renata.

What are you doing, sir? What are you touching?

Miss, come and wait on my table!

I'm hungry... what a great shot!

Sure, everyone's a director these days.

But only televisual.

You bet. Apart from a few dinosaurs, there are no cinematic ones left.

Fresh titties, a delicious dish.

How is it eaten? Renata, you're so appetizing!

I can't stand it anymore.

You're too appetizing.

Where are you going? Come back!

Try it, sir. Try this little oyster.

You were right, the lady's grasped it!

Renata! You're a knockout!

- This is where we came in. - Simple, but good.

- What? - The lunch idea.

Televisually speaking, you mean.

Of course, televisually speaking.

Admit that you like watching me, you sex maniac!

Yes, I love it!

But more than that, I love licking you, gobbling you up!

Talented.

Quite good. They even edited it.

Sure, give them an Oscar.

Jessica Lange and Jack Nicholson in "The Postman Always Rings Twice."

But what's the surprise?

Perfect, that sparkling jet looks like a sun-ray, Maria!

You dirty devils, can't I even pee in peace?

Good heavens, you guys.

Okay. Okay!

Go on, you're better than Sandrelli in "the Key".

You've been a big influence, maestro.

You can only do a scene like this in one take!

Don't talk nonsense, put your heart into it.

Get into the part.

Come on, Renata. You enter the frame too!

Freeze it on her face.

I finally see her face.

- What do you think? - Attractive.

She looks a bit of a slut to me.

What? She's got a natural face.

Just what I expected. Go on.

Wow, did you know you're great? Really talented.

Action, Renata. Help my wife take her panties off.

How nice!

That's good, but now you strip off too.

- What are you waiting for? - Get them off.

You're so hairy! Down below too?

What a nosy Parker...

Let's see, take off her trousers.

It's chilly!

But it's hot here!

Great, two nymphs.

Come on, hug each other. Great!

Now caress each other... that's fine.

Very well. Just like that.

Wonderful! Kiss. Come one, like you mean it.

- Wait, a satyr is spying on you. - Quick, run for it.

After a while, even our video fun and games got boring.

We started, through contact ads and specialized magazines,

to exchange videos with other couples

who liked watching and being watched.

We got in touch with Mario and Maria, who described themselves as "videophiles".

They proposed that we film each other reciprocally.

It was an enticing prospect, but we laid down some ground rules:

oral and manual games allowed, but no penetration.

This video is the result of our encounter,

and it's the surprise that I mentioned in the letter.

- Mario! What are you doing? - Being a satyr, right?

But didn't we say "no penetration"?

That was just for the video. Come on, Piero, do it with me.

Let's move from fiction into reality!

From then on, we continued exchanging videos

and my relationship with Piero got right back on track. I'm sure you

realize the initial rules are no longer in force. I hope you liked it, so when

you make your next film you'll remember me.

The idea of 100,000 or a million spectators seeing me,

literally sends me into raptures.

So what do you think?

Will you give me your opinion?

Interesting.

It made my inspiration rise.

- Really? - The inspiration between my legs!

Okay, I get it...

I'm going. Look how late it is.

My boyfriend's waiting outside, he came to pick me up.

"Bye-bye", maestro.

"Bye-bye".

Sorry I'm late!

What happened?

I stopped off at the P.O. Box

My name's Rosella and I've seen some of your films.

Never at the cinema, only on video because Gianni,

my husband, brings them home for us to watch.

I'm 33 and I think I'm quite an ordinary woman,

far removed from the ladies of easy virtue that populate your films.

But a few evenings ago, something so odd occurred

that I couldn't believe it happened to me.

That's why I'm writing. I was furious with my husband,

because he called to say he had to work late at the clinic

and that we couldn't go out to dinner as planned.

You know I was expecting to go out!

The kids are at mom's and we've nothing for dinner!

You could have called me earlier.

Sorry, it is not my fault. We'll go out another night.

- I'm tired, too. - It's always the same!

You put everyone before your wife!

You know that's not true and I apologized.

You're an expert at that and always dupe me.

You only think of yourself.

Everything revolves around you and your plans.

The others don't count, they have to make do.

Anyway, I'm just a housewife for you and a maid!

Cut it out! I've been examining patients all day.

I'm tired and you're making a mountain out of a molehill!

Stop being hysterical. Besides, you know I can't talk here.

Talk to me at home. When you have calmed down.

Hysterical? Who?

Hello? Hello!

I was out of my mind with rage.

When my husband behaves like that, I see red.

I lose control, there's no reasoning with me.

I was sure it was Gianni, but I didn't want to

talk or listen to him.

Darling, I have to tell you something. My dick's hard.

Can you hear me, dear?

I was thinking about you and it got hard.

- Lucky you. - But you're not Teresa!

-No, I'm Rosella -Damn it!

But it's still hard.

What can I do about that?

- Give me a hand. - Don't be so forward.

You're right, I was still thinking about Teresa.

I told you, I am Rosella!

That's fine by me, but please give me a hand.

How? I don't understand.

A hand, your hand!

To come, I have to pretend my hand is your hand.

- You're nuts! - Don't hang up, please!

I couldn't break away from that voice.

It's sensual timbre stopped me.

It oozed passion, desire, lust... Sensations that I'd never felt.

- Are you still there? - Yes.

- Are you alone? - Well, at the moment.

Boyfriend or husband?

- An oaf. But he's out just now. - So we can take advantage.

Touch yourself and pretend that it's me caressing you.

Satisfying that stranger came quite naturally.

He wasn't there, he couldn't see me, he didn't know.

Are you doing it, Rosella?

- Yes. - Good!

Tell me where you're touching yourself!

My breast, under my blouse.

- On top of my bra. - Take it off!

Wet your finger with saliva and

run it over your nipples.

It's my hand touching you.

- Tell me, if you like it. - Yes, I like it.

Good, keep it up.

Think about your hand touching my big hard pecker!

Idiot!

Rosella, darling, let me feel how wet you are.

Touch yourself, it's my finger inside your panties.

Pushing into your hot, bushy little nest.

I'm stroking the lips, they're swollen with desire

and wet with your bitter sweet juices.

Can you feel me growing in your hand?

Bigger, even more swollen, harder!

Can you feel how it throbs with desire, darling?

Answer me, tell me you feel it!

Yes, I can feel it. I can feel it!

Careful! Slowly...

I can't hold it back!

No! You take it easy too...

Your finger is so powerful.

You're driving me crazy.

Yes, keep going, put it inside me.

I want you inside me. Take me, I beg you!

Don't stop. Quicker, deeper.

Harder!

Take me, bang me, up to the hilt!

Like that, come on...

Yes, like that!

Touch my testicles, stroke my balls.

Fantastic! Yes, lower down!

Little slut, you like teasing me!

Now I'm going to wet my finger and stick it in your ass.

Yes, do it darling!

Yes... give me a hand, please!

It's so tight.

- Does your husband split it open? - Never!

You're right to get angry.

He's a real oaf. Yes, a lousy oaf.

Put it inside me, take me from behind.

Bang me, hammer my ass!

Put it all the way in, come on!

I'll masturbate you from the front

and enter you from behind!

No one's ever done that, tell me. Go on!

- Tell me! - No one apart from you

has ever given me so much pleasure!

You're mine!

Can you feel me, darling?

What is going on? What do I hear? Ahh!

Respectable Rosella, who only watches my films because her husband makes her.

Well done, you've got a future as

a chat line operator.

The more they act like saints, the dirtier they are.

When do you watch my films?

When my boyfriend makes me, obviously.

This is from Foggia, it's from a man.

No men, bin it!

Shame.

This is one then. It's from a woman in Turin.

Dear Brass, I'm a fan of yours and want to tell

you something you may find interesting. My name's Francesca, I'm 28.

I've been married to Paolo for 3 years, he's 7 years older.

It all started as a game...

One night, when we were making love, he whispered:

"Darling, would you like to do it with someone else?"

I was indignant, but I felt my blood stirring deep inside.

The idea of cheating had unleashed a strange excitement.

I've never seen you like this.

Leave me alone.

- What were you thinking about? - Stop it, Paolo!

No one. It was your fantasy,

not one of my wishes.

But after that, fantasizing wasn't enough.

So to feel that excitement that had doubled my pleasure,

I accepted, a little sulkily, to accompany him to a place

where, in his words, we'd spend a "different" evening.

What panties are you wearing?

The ones I bought in Paris.

They look great.

I put them on as a favour to you.

You insisted that I look sexy

but I'm not going to do anything!

Nobody is going to force you.

Where we're going, everyone can do as they please.

You're soaking!

It was true, my body gave me away.

I claimed to be repelled by the experience my husband wanted

me to undergo, but actually, I felt drawn to it like flies to honey.

Paolo took me to a Villa

where wife swapping parties were held.

- Who is it? - Roberto.

Oscar sent me.

Here we are.

- Coming? - Wait a second.

- Good evening. Welcome. - Good evening.

If you'd like to leave something in the cloakroom...

Maybe you won't need your purse.

Do you know this place?

No, but others of it's type.

So, you know that you only pay for drinks.

Come this way.

What can I get you?

- What are you having? - Nothing.

You have to have something.

- A straight whiskey. - Whiskey and coke for me.

- Here you are. - Thanks.

Take it.

Let's go and sit down.

No use hiding.

Or drinking too much.

Let's act like we're at home.

Stop, what are you doing?

The same as everyone else.

Come on, relax.

- And open my flies. - Are you nuts? I'm embarrassed.

Don't lie.

I know you like it.

Just feel how wet you are.

Let yourself go, Francesca.

It's a good opportunity for some fun and games.

Don't be scared, darling. I'm here.

Shall we go through there?

Get up, Francesca. We're going to the other room.

It was as if I was seeing myself in a mirror.

Outwardly shy and prudish, but actually the biggest slut of all.

Seeing Paolo take another woman made me mad with jealousy,

but that only increased the intense pleasure.

Yes, Paolo, I'm coming!

Me too, darling, me too!

I'm coming.

And she was against it.

- Have you ever been? - Where?

To a swingers' club?

Of course.

In France and in Italy.

I'd never go.

I don't doubt it. You're too naive

and too jealous.

Like anyone who's really in love.

- Is your boyfriend like that too? - Like anything!

- Even if he bottles it up. - He's right.

- To bottle it up? - To be jealous!

Just listen to this...

"Dear Tinto, I'm Veronica. I'm 45 and

my husband's an architect. We have two lovely children.

Our married life is positive on all fronts

including the ones that would interest you.

But as usual, there's a "but.

When I go out to do my daily errands,

I get on a tram that's very crowded and if you'll

excuse my bluntness, I let men grope my ass.

It turns me on, but when I feel that whoever's groping

me gets excited, I cut things short."

- The slut! Does she give the tram number? - No.

Shame.

Stop it!

Read this one.

Hurry up. I can't stay late this evening.

My boyfriend's picking me up.

Dear Mr. Brass, this letter is neither a pathetic outburst

or a justification. It's just an account of how

bitter disappointment can lead to unexpected satisfaction.

My name's Ivana, I'm 33 and I've been faithful to

Filippo all our married life. Even if his gambling is a constant

cause of argument because he comes home late and very tense.

Up until a moth ago I'd never have cheated on him, but...

unable to sleep, I waited for him to come home.

Time passed. One, two, three...

Anger was replaced by the worry

that something could have happened to him.

Telecom Italia, free message. The person you have called is not available.

Filippo?

Is that you?

You've been drinking too.

You can't even vomit.

Want me to stick a finger down your throat?

I've lost everything.

Who fleeced you this time?

The Deaf man...

and the Blond.

You said you'd stopped gambling.

But I gambled, okay?

Okay.

It's not the end of the world.

How much did you lose?

Everything.

Everything!

Everything!

Everything!

I've nothing left.

Just your wife.

She's a beautiful woman.

Give her up for a night.

And we'll write off the ten million you owe us.

- Your wife's a valuable woman. - And lucky.

Yes.

I lost you.

You're really drunk.

Come on.

Come on. Let's go to bed.

Look, it's true!

I gambled you and I lost.

What the hell do you mean? Are you nuts?

They've given me 10 days.

They're expecting you, I promised.

They're expecting me?

You said they are expecting me?

You said they are expecting me?

Who the fuck do you think you are?

You shitty, disgusting, cowardly, cheating bastard!

They can wait forever. You and your pals had better

get that into your heads! Actually, up your asses.

They're mad, capable of anything.

Tough shit, settle this yourself. It's your problem not mine.

You and your fucking gambling!

It could have been because I really love Filippo,

or that I took perverse pleasure in seeing him depend on me

but three days later I decided to go

and honor my husband's enormous gambling debt.

And I must admit, those two,

the Blond and the Deaf man... why was I so valuable to them?

Help me.

Pass me my dress.

Am I beautiful?

Think they'll like me?

- Answer me. Will they like me? - Yes.

Telecom Italia, free message. The person you have called...

Ivana?

Is that you Ivana?

Help me!

Raise your legs.

And your panties?

Your bra?

Gambled...

and lost!

Help me, please.

Your pals...

The Blond...

and the Deaf man...

Is that enough?

No, it was a big debt.

- You're beautiful. In front... - And behind.

Here is the soap.

Yes, exactly! I wanted to tell you this too:

The Deaf man, the Blond...

they did it with soap!

Come on.

- Filippo... - Darling!

When will you go back to gambling?

Poor Filippo, he lost at gambling and he lost his wife too.

You really think so? I think he's actually got her back.

You can't, the maestro's not seeing anyone!

But he told me to drop by this evening!

Go and see what's happening.

Get off me!

Maestro, I've got something special for you and he won't let me in.

- Nothing doing. I'm leaving. - Out!

Just a second, it's something exceptional!

Come in, Gabri. Let the maestro see you.

- What is it? - Can't you see?

I just see a pain in the neck. Actually, two.

Take a good look. Isn't she lovely?

Let the maestro see you, Gabri.

- Congratulations! - Doesn't she deserve an audition?

Yes... I don't know. Maybe.

She definitely deserves the "coin test".

Show me how you move. Pick it up.

Like this?

Or like this?

Well done, you'll go far. Take it from the one who knows.

- Thank you. - Will you hire her?

Maybe, we'll see.

Do you feel more inclined towards

comedy or drama?

The erotic, maestro.

Get dressed. You've definitely got a shining future behind you.

- As an actress? - Much more. As everything!

Leave a photo with my secretary.

- Thank you, maestro. - Thanks.

We will keep a picture of yourself.

- Thanks, maestro! - Thanks.

I said Gabri was exceptional. Thanks to you, too.

I'll give this to you. Put it where it'll be seen, please.

- File A? - How did you guess?

What are you doing tonight?

As I said.

Seeing a film with my boyfriend.

Is he waiting for you outside?

Of course. Why?

Because I'm not letting you go if you don't tell me something about yourself.

What?

Anything. Like the others. A nice little letter, for example.

- I've got nothing to tell. - Impossible!

Well, nothing real. At most, just in my dreams.

You think that's nothing? Dreams are part of reality.

They're the only true reality.

-But I'm going straight after...

After, you can go wherever.

I had a dream about my boyfriend taking me to a shoe store,

but if I tell you about it, will you let me star in it?

Of course, if you deserve to...

It was the most wonderful shoe store I'd ever seen...

There were no customers,

just a few female mannequins, a black assistant

and the owner, who had his back to me.

I'd like some tangerine boots.

I was amazed to see that you were the owner.

Welcome, at long last.

I was expecting you.

- Go. - Yes, master.

Lucia! What are you doing?

Can't you see? I'm with Tinto Brass!

The director!