A few more examples of candids, this time from the streets, which, like the ones we saw on Monday, might leave the female muscle fan shaking his head and wondering WHERE? WHEN? and WHY NOT ME? At least, that's what I'm wondering.
I first saw her walking towards her car, writes a reader. Rather unnecessarily, I asked if she needed any help with her bags. 'Are you f***ing joking?' she said. 'Do I look like I need help?' With that, she flexed her arm, revealing the definition in her shoulder and tricep. It was all a bit too much for me to handle. The next thing I remember was coming to with my elderly neighbour, Mrs Mountshaft, standing over me and asking if she should call an ambulance. I'd passed out on the spot. Never seen her again, though it's not for want of hanging around the car park in front of my building.
Another reader recounts a not dissimilar experience. I'd just finished loading up the car with the shopping when the femuscle radar went truly ballistic. She was wearing just a bikini top and jeans. I tried my hardest not to stare but found it impossible to look away. As she walked, a huge pack of water effortlessly slung over her shoulder, her abs mesmerised me. She was going to come right past me, I felt an uncontrollable urge to say something to her, then blurted out 'Can I help you with that?' She didn't even break stride. She lifted the water up in a sort of one-handed shoulder press, all the while looking straight at me in mock surprise, no doubt making fun of the dumb expression on my face. She kept on doing that all the way to her car, giving me a show. As she drove out, she gave me a wink. I think an hour later I still hadn't moved. Without doubt it was the single hottest thing I have ever witnessed.
Of course, those stories are just that. Fictions from the imagination of the author. The images above, though, look as if they were taken by one of us. One of us who was in the right place at the right time and was able to ignore any qualms they might have had about snapping a muscular woman without her permission. Whoever is responsible for the image of sexy Sophie Arvebrink (right) (yep, I still can't type her name without typing 'sexy' first) deserves, in my opinion, a medal for holding the camera still. Good work fella! Yours truly would have probably ended up hailing a taxi and following her, cop movie style, until I came to my senses or ran out of money. Probably.
And still I'm wondering, wondering more than ever, where exactly these magical streets are where such visions of muscular female beauty walk. WHERE?