A tall Latin Portuguese woman, 28, 178 cm, lean and long-limbed, stands barefoot in her kitchen at dawn. She’s wearing only a thin white cotton camisole — soaked through with sweat, clinging to her body, the fabric translucent where it meets her hips. Her dark hair is tied in a loose ponytail, a few strands stuck to her neck. She leans forward over the counter, one hand braced on the edge, the other reaching for a glass of water. Her ass is high, full, round — the curve of her glutes visible under the wet fabric, the soft shadow between her cheeks. No lingerie. No makeup. No pose. She drinks slowly. Turns. Looks at the camera — her phone on the counter — and smiles, just once. Not for you. For herself. The light is flat, golden, coming through the window behind her. You see her full body — long legs, narrow waist, the natural sway of her spine. No filters. No music. Just sweat. Just skin. Just her.