Hazel Max has A Little Business to attend to, and she is handling it on her own terms. Standing in a sunlit Mediterranean courtyard with a yellow-washed wall and an old wooden cart wheel behind her, she wears an unbuttoned white blouse over a deep red lace bra, her blonde waves framing bright blue eyes and a belly piercing that catches the light. Nude hold-up stockings give her legs a polished gleam above strappy leopard-print heels, and the cobblestones and climbing roses make the whole scene feel like a stolen afternoon in the Algarve.

The white blouse falls to a stone ledge, and Hazel turns to lean against the courtyard wall, presenting a rear view that reveals a tiny red thong and the perfect peach of her backside framed by the stocking tops. She arches her back, glancing over one shoulder with a grin that is all invitation, the warm Portuguese light tracing every curve. By the final frames the red lace is draped across her wrist like a souvenir and she bends forward over the stone wall, nude save for the sheer hold-ups and those striking heels, blonde hair tumbling forward. Whatever business brought Hazel here, she has clearly decided the afternoon belongs to pleasure.