Trasgredire Page #3

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Men, not women, men...

I like cock.

Calm down, Carla.

What's going on?

Is there something wrong?

You can tell me everything,

I am your friend.

I didn't want to offend you.

It's not your fault.

It's Matteo's fault.

I don't understand anything anymore.

I was so excited to call him

and tell him about the loft,

and that idiot told me that he wasn't

coming to London anymore.

He was cold, mean, hateful.

He even hung up the phone on me.

Don't cry, darling.

I told you, men are all

big a**holes.

Matteo wasn't like that before.

Everything was fine between us.

Here, as a pledge of love.

It'll bring you luck.

I don't understand.

Something must have happened.

No, but I, on the other hand,

do understand very well.

And I know what you're

going through. I've been there too.

Never trust men.

They're moody, unreliable...

listen to me, my darling,

forget about Matteo.

Tell him to go f*** off,

like I did with Mario.

Come on, let's go.

Let's go.

You see, Carla?

We don't need men.

We can do it ourselves.

Famous architects, sculptors,

and writers from all over the world

were drawn to Doge's Court

because of its charm.

Thus, the profits that came

from the market of silk and spices

were invested to embellish the city

with a splendor

that, as intended

by the Great Counsel of Ten,

had to reflect the immense wealth

gained from the commercial traffic.

In fact, the goal

of the Venetian Government

wasn't so much the conquest

of territory,

but rather the construction

of solid outposts

in commercial harbors

of the Balkan area,

from which they could

more easily penetrate

the rich silk and spice markets

of the East.

We can then affirm

with documented certainty

that the Venetian Republic's

penetration

of the Mediterranean markets...

What do you think: Does the word

"penetration" derive from "penis"?

... atypical in respect to...

I think it comes from "dick,"

our professor's dick.

Look at that ass.

... also to the political

and cultural affirmation of Venice,

we can accurately say

that the mercantile penetration

of Venice

was the base

of its own artistic splendor.

Behind the Aretino, for example...

Whore.

A**hole.

Matteo.

Surprise.

What about your exam?

I postponed it till September.

Do you always open the door

dressed like that?

Did you come here to fight?

You don't seem all that happy

to see me...

Of course, I am very happy.

The only thing is that I wasn't

expecting you any more.

Well, since I came over here,

can you let me in?

Instead of keeping me here

at the doorway?

I'm sorry, of course,

come in, come in.

Who is it at this hour?

Matteo, this is Moira.

The real estate agent.

Sorry, I am late to the office.

Come here and see

what a beautiful view we have.

Look at the panorama.

Very nice.

It must be very expensive.

Moira gave me a special deal...

Of course, I can imagine...

It's not the way you think.

Nothing happened

between me and Moira.

What is she doing here then?

She gave me a ride

last night with her car,

we went to the theater together,

and since it was late,

she stayed here for the night.

Naked...

and in bed with you?

Then, bye, Carla.

Bye Matteo, nice to meet you.

Carla told me a lot about you.

She told me about you, too.

Did you bring me

the dream interpretation book

and the panties with the butterfly?

I brought you these...

What does that have to do

with us now?

It has a lot to do with us.

A whole lot.

This is your ass,

am I right?

What the f*** were you doing

all naked at the beach?

Who gave you these?

How did you get them?

Don't you worry how I got them.

You just tell me:

what happened between you

and that fag of French guy

that was writing to you,

"Je t'aime, mon amour...

Je t'aime... "

It was a long time ago,

old news.

Old, my ass.

If you want to be with me,

you have to be sincere

and tell me everything.

- There is nothing to say.

- Nothing, huh?

Is it normal for you to have people

taking pictures of your naked ass?

It's not like you think.

We went visiting the structures

of the beach hotels built for tourists.

It was a trip organized by the school.

You know how those trips go.

On the train, in the kitchens,

in the tents, we were joking,

we were posing.

They were taking pictures of us.

We were just doing it for fun.

After lunch, we all went

to different places...

I found myself with Bernard

at the beach.

It was September, it was still pretty hot,

and nobody was around...

We got naked

and we went in the ocean...

- Naked?

- Of course.

It's not like we had bathing suits.

Keep going, don't digress.

There was a strange warmth

in the air,

the ocean was calm,

the sun was setting,

and the water was very calm

and inviting...

Then what?

Then that's it.

We got dressed.

Do you think I am an idiot?

I'm serious, nothing else happened.

It was just an innocent game.

When did that happen?

I told you, last year,

towards the end of September.

You were already with me then?

Well...

Yes, I think so, our story just started.

Tell me the truth.

You made love to him.

No, Matteo, I swear.

Don't swear.

Well, not really...

- A little bit...

- What do you mean a little bit?

Well we flirted a little bit,

he was aroused and he kissed me.

Where?

On your ass?

Tell me at least how long

your innocent flirt lasted?

A couple of months.

During Christmas Bernard left the school

and he went back to France.

Did you guys see each other again?

No, never, I swear.

I told you not to swear.

Did you write to each other?

For a little bit...

Those letters that you have.

- He wanted me to join him in Paris.

- And why didn't you go?

Because I fell in love with you.

I didn't care about him anymore.

Please Matteo, please.

- Quit torturing me.

- Quit my ass!

How could you do this to me?

While you were having

a relationship with me, eh?

I told you, it was at the beginning,

I didn't know I was in love with you yet.

The one with you, for me

was a story like the others.

I beg you Matteo...

Oh Matteo, let's make love...

I want to feel you inside of me.

All what happened doesn't count at all.

What counts is that I love you

and that I want you.

No, no, you are just a whore.

How did you do it with Bernard eh?

What did you do with that bastard?

Enough. Enough.

It's useless.

Your blowj*bs don't arouse me

any more.

And I would be the liar, huh?

Uh, oh.

I want to know how many times

you cheated on me.

It's your last chance.

To be honest with me,

and to forget the belief that I have,

that our story is all a lie.

How did the plot with Bernard start?

If you don't feel like

telling it to my face,

write it at least,

in one nice letter full of details.

Like the ones that your Bernard

was writing to you.

And don't worry about offending me.

Your pretence and your silence

are much more offensive.

Matteo, my love, you should know

that there is no betrayal

if there is no illusion of closeness

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