When Ana Braga slips into her various sherbet colored bikinis for an extensive round of hot bodied Brazilian blonde goodness on the beach in Miami, I slip into something resembling a catatonic leering state. I really do admire her for so many reasons, most especially those reasons I would grope uncontrollably with my two hands and various other attachments if Ana were simply to give her permission. A simple yes, a node, or something in Brazlian that translates roughly to, fine, I feel so sorry for you, you have three minutes, but no more. I'd take it all.
Ana, whatever your formula for preening posing bikini allure, it's working. I wouldn't change a thing. Well, you could lose the bikinis altogether, though I do fear for the children of American who will be forever damaged were they to see a human female breast before eighteen. The horror! Ana Braga, the hotness! Enjoy.