Cristina Mortagua, the Brazilian bombshell, takes center stage at Rio Grande's 1994 Carnaval. Wearing a daringly low-cut top, she jiggles her ample assets to the delight of the academic crowd. Mortagua, a master of tease, slips her hands inside her top, caressing her breasts, as the professors watch, entranced. The atmosphere is electric, the air thick with desire and the scent of sweat and saltwater.