Wearing a white sports bra and black workout pants, Veronica hops up on the bench with the ease of a gymnast and begins to flex, all the while her black eyes boring into yours. She starts by moving like a rhytmic gymnast, then shows you her hard polo ball biceps, all the while keeping her rock solid abs tensed. She puts her palm on the bench and you see her triceps standing out like three hard ropes wound together. An outside left biceps flex with her serratus standing out like the Latin word for saw it was named for. She was a dancer for many years, and she is still lithe and flexible. When s...

Wearing a white sports bra and black workout pants, Veronica hops up on the bench with the ease of a gymnast and begins to flex, all the while her black eyes boring into yours. She starts by moving like a rhytmic gymnast, then shows you her hard polo ball biceps, all the while keeping her rock solid abs tensed. She puts her palm on the bench and you see her triceps standing out like three hard ropes wound together. An outside left biceps flex with her serratus standing out like the Latin word for saw it was named for. She was a dancer for many years, and she is still lithe and flexible. When she takes on leg and holds it parallel to her upper body, ever muscle she has flexes and moves. It is like a symphony, it is, with her large muscles playing the parts of lower register instruments and her smaller muscles the high woodwinds and violins. And now the crescendo, as Veronica comes close to the camera, flexing her biceps in your face, and then backing away, snaking at the waist, her abs pulsating. She comes close now, making all the muscles in her chest and shoulders hard, so very hard, and you hear her heavy breathing. You want to touch her and see if she is as hard as she looks. You do. You wish you could hold her tight, feeling her sculpted shoulders, her round hard biceps, her ropey triceps. You want to feel her strong body beneath you, heaving and pitching like a small boat gone too far out when a storm is coming in.