EROTIC TALE - THE PAINTER: I had just moved to the interior of São Paulo due to my husband's work. Peaceful life, few chores and lots of free time. When I moved, I had to leave my job in the capital, which was not at all difficult for me. She hated that life as an executive secretary, of having to wear high heels and makeup every day. Now I had time for myself, to enjoy my husband and the good things in life. My class should have a maximum of eight people. Among them, Joana. Joana was a classmate who was already a professional painter, but she was redoing some basic modules to improve her line in face drawing. I noticed it from the first day. There was no way not to notice her: tall, thin, long hair, platinum blond, huge breasts, dragon tattoo on her back and infinity symbol on her wrist, white teeth like milk and green eyes like two emeralds. Joana was stunning! In addition to all this beauty, I soon noticed his strong artistic streak. Joana had something different in her eyes ... She not only observed things around her: she apprehended their souls. Yes, Joana was not exactly angelic ... Her manner, her look and her tattoos contrasted with her thin and sweet features. Since I saw you the first time, I didn't understand what I felt. It was a mixture of admiration, veneration ... Or maybe, attraction ... Fact is: I had never felt that way about a woman! However, it scared me the way I thought about Joana. When I saw her coming into the room, I looked down at my canvas and pretended to paint something just so I wouldn't have to look at it. I feared that she would perceive this uncontrollable desire that I felt. With his sweet, yet tenacious voice, he invited us to an exhibition of his works that would take place the next day in a gallery in the city. After the exhibition, everyone would be invited to a cocktail party. I thought about not going, so that I could resist the temptation. But my heart spoke louder, and the next day, there I was, scented, brushed, with manicured nails, throwing my brown curls aside, paradoxically wishing Joana would notice me. As I drove to the gallery, I thought that I would face a long line to greet her, and when my turn came, she would say "Mirela, I'm so glad you came!"; I would give you a hug and say in your ear "You look very sexy"; and she would smile big and say, "Wait until later to see what I’ll do with you" ... But, as always, the real world is very different from the world of dreams. When I arrived, Joana was hugging a man, who was possibly her boyfriend / husband, and was surrounded by people I didn't know. I waited so that I could have the opportunity to come over and greet her, and for that, I kept watching her from a distance. She was impeccable in a long white lace dress with a low neckline and breasts. However, his face did not look happy. To my surprise, later on I found Joana crouched, crying, and her companion was walking quickly in the opposite direction, with fast steps, almost running; the scene looked like a post-fight. Immediately, I ran to meet Joana, crouched down beside her and tried to comfort her: - My God! Joana, what happened? "He," he pointed in the direction of the man, who by that time had disappeared from view. - He hit me ... Said I'm a mediocre little slut ... - How absurd! - he said, hugging her. - Don't cry, Joana! Let's go to the police station. It can't be like this! What is he? - We have an affair ... He is married to a woman in another city, and when he comes here, we are together. I like him, but ... But ... He's very possessive ... He doesn't understand my artistic life ... - said Joana, her voice broken by sobs. I accompanied her back to the gallery and we went to the toilet together. There, I helped her to compose herself, to wash her face, I offered my lipstick, which she applied and, as if by magic, she looked as beautiful as ever. It was a strange feeling to have her there, so fragile, under my care ... If she knew what was going on in my mind ... Ai, ai ... Arriving at her house, Joana turned on the lights and went to the kitchen pick up champagne and glasses. He seemed to be happy and radiant, very different from that girl thrown on the asphalt by an ordinary rascal. After drinking three bottles of champagne, we started dancing. And we got closer ... Getting closer ... Getting closer ... There was a sexual tension between us ... Until I laced her around the waist and we started dancing as if we were a couple; at the scene, Joana burst out laughing, and her body, limp from the drink, hung close to my chest and nestled on my shoulder. As she was a little taller than me, I realized that the position was a little uncomfortable; then, I took her to bed and we lay side by side, on top of the cushions with our champagne glasses.