..wrestle

I nod my head in answer, grinning widely at my cousin as I crouch down to take her on, my feet set wide.

"First one on their back is a cuntsucker!" screams Anastacia as she launches herself at me.

My newfound strength and agility working out by the pool over the summer enables me to swiftly maneuver out of Stacy's path. The fiery redhead practically falls on her ass as she stumbles forward. Taking advantage of her momentary imbalance, I pounce.

I grab the busty coed from behind, grabbing her around the neck and attempting to throw her to the floor. Stacy's bare legs flail beneath the tight black miniskirt as I try to pull her to the floor. Both of us wear similar outfits. What I thought were Auntie's sweater and skirt prostitution costumes are actually from Stacy's wardrobe. She has a fuzzy white sweater with her black mini, my tight sweater is light blue and the ebon skirt even shorter on my taller frame.

I thought her luscious honeydews were gonna roll right out of the low neck of the sweater as I worried her about like a dog with a rat. All of a sudden, a well-placed kick to my ankle sends me tumbling to the floor. Stace grins evilly as she jumps down on me. I keep the flame-haired vixen from pinning me by blocking her with an upthrust knee. She goes sprawling on the floor, holding her gut.

As I return to my feet, Annabelle the housekeeper enters the melee from the central bath, dutifully stating,"Misses Stacy, Lucy, I have taken the liberty of drawing a hot bath for y.."

Stacy attacks from behind, barreling into me. The **** of her blow pushes me into Annabelle, knocking her back into the luxurious bathroom. I continue my tumble forward, but not before grabbing onto Stacy's sweater. We both plunge headlong into the sunken bath, now filled with frothy warm bath water. The intensity of our battle renewed, we pull at each other's soaked clothes as we continue to wrestle. Sweaters half off and skirts laying at our waists, we continue.

"Miss Stacy! Miss Lucy! Please stop!" the beauteous Swiss miss pleads from bathside, wringing her hands.

Her only acknowledgement is a large wall of water that greets her as I slam Stacy back down into the water. I jump on top of her ribcage and gleefully claim victory as Stacy barely keeps her head above the waterline of the tub.

"That's okay, my favorite color's red!" Stacy nods, her wet hair swishing as I let her up. We both turn to see the source of the sudden whimpering.

Annabelle still stands at tub's edge, her starched light blue dress with the white trim now half-soaked by Stacy's fall and the subsequent splashing.

"Mr. Ken won't like this!' she continues to mewl as we pull ourselves out of the tub and stand on each side of her.

Above, cams fixed inconspicuously in the mouldings follow every move.

"We're sorry, Annabelle!" we say, nearly as one. We don't want her to lose her job."We'll help you!" She stands stunned as we begin to unbutton her tailored dress, revealing white lingerie beneath.