Cosy Night Home

Mia Stryker perches on a grey sofa in a timber-framed sitting room, her purple zip-front bra and matching camo leggings adding a military edge to the cosy domestic surroundings of geometric cushions, warm plaster walls, and a solid oak coffee table. Her dark hair has been curled into bouncy vintage waves that bounce at her jawline, and the inked tapestry covering both arms gives her the look of a pin-up who wandered off a barrack wall and into someone's living room. Barefoot and sharp-eyed, she unzips the purple bra an inch at a time with a smirk that suggests the evening ahead will be anything but quiet.

She turns on the sofa and the camo leggings earn every penny of their price, the bold purple-pink-teal pattern warping across the tight drum of her bum as she glances back with her chin tucked. The leggings peel down and Mia sits back against the cushions, her bare back and the compact roundness of her behind framed by the rough timber post beside her. In the closing frame she stands squarely in front of the camera in nothing but a sliver of black thong and her own confidence, hands planted on her hips, her firm, upturned breasts catching the warm overhead light, her short curls framing a face that says the night is still young. Cosy has never looked this dangerous.