As she stepped up to the bench press, the fabric of her compression top strained against her powerful frame. Her physique was a striking contradiction of soft curves and granite-hard definition. Her shoulders were broad and capped like cannonballs, tapering down to a waist that remained narrow despite the thick walls of abdominal muscle beneath her shirt.
She took her seat, the bench groaning slightly under her weight. Elena reached up, her thick, vascular forearms standing out as she gripped the cold steel bar. With a sharp exhale, she unracked the weight. As she lowered the bar toward her chest, the immense power of her pectoral muscles became evident, stretching and flexing with enough force to make the heavy fabric of her top taut.
Her breathing was deep and controlled. On the upward drive, her triceps flared, and the sheer density of her upper body seemed to expand. There was no shaking, no struggle—only the raw, mature strength of a woman who had mastered her own body.