Michelle Trachtenberg vs Indiana Evans Bikini Catfight
As Indiana Evans lay on her back, the bright sun beaming down on her sunkissed skin causing the beads of sweat speckling her slim body to glisten and sparkle, thoughts began to eratically race through her mind. She dug her feet into the sand, curling her pedicured toes into the coarse grains and kicking a cloud into the air. She fidgeted tirelessly. 'Maybe I can close my eyes, you know. Just focus on the sound of the crashing waves' she thought to herself. But she couldn't focus; after all, how could she?
Evans was filled with joy several minutes ago, with not a care in the world, her luscious pink lips were curled in an arrogant smirk and her eyes were beaming with devious glee as she playfully skipped down the tourist-infested beach. The young Australian giggled uncontrollably as she ran underneath a nearby pier, hiding behind a large wooden pillar. Her laughter only intensifies once a seething young woman sprints past her, the Aussie's laughter causing the pale brunette to stop dead in her tracks.
Turning on her heel, her eyebrows arching, an irate scowl forming on her flushed face, an irate Michelle Trachtenberg angrily stomps toward the younger blonde. "Was that suppose to be fucking funny?" Michelle growls.
Unable to keep her composure, Indiana's reply is constantly interrupted by hilarity-induced snorts, "I... I don't think.. it was funny..., it was hilarious! You should have seen your face!"
The celebrity lifestyle is not one of solitude. Paparazzi are constantly tailing celebrities, documenting their every move with a dslr camera and zoom lens, ensuring high quality, up-close images that can be snapped from far away. Michelle had been sunbathing, laying face-down on her beach towel. Michelle, not a fan of tan lines, unties the back of her bikini, letting the thin strings drop to her side.
Evans happened to be vacationing at the same resort. Known for being an arrogant, devious trickster, the young blond decided that she no longer needed the large cup of ice water clutched in her hand. She had to do something quick, the frosty cup was numbing her dainty fingers. Noticing the topless sunbathing starlet, Evans gets a delightfully devious idea. With a derisive chuckle, Indiana pours the icey contents across Michelle's exposed back.
Trachtenberg belts out a shrill screech, leaping to her feet from the shock of the unsuspecting icy blast, her untied bikini top forgotten. Michelle snaps her head around, glaring at the giddy blonde skipping merrily past her. She steps forward to pursue the snobby bitch bit a hard gust of salty wind blasts her body, and her bosom, looking down, Trachtenberg squeals, her arm shielding her pale B cup breasts as she hastily scrambles to tie her top back on. However, Michelle knows the damage is done. She has been a celebrity since childhood and can hear a camera shutter closing a mile away. Even the gusting wind, murmuring tourists and waves crashing cannot mute the distinct sounds of multiple camera shutters clicking in the distance. Her face blushing red, she sprints after her assailant.
Indiana tried to fight back, tossing samd in Michelles eyes, striking out with low blows, yanking the brunette's hair, but even Indiana's most devious tactics couldn't stifle Michelle's brute force and soon, the crafty blonde was laying on her back.
'And here I am, my body throbbing, my tan frame pinned down by this pale American slut. Maybe she... wait, srop... the weight on my waist has lifted. Maybe she has grown bored.' Evan's' eyelids flutter open, assuming that all is well. Her vision however is hindered. The cloudy blue sky is gone, replaced by a pair of smooth, round, positively plump, pale cheeks. The white fabric of Trachtenberg's bikini bottoms stretches snugly across her hips, her cheeks pouring out from the thin fabric.
"Pucker up, brat. The paparazzi is gonna LOVE this!" Michelle purs as she slowly lowers her rump.
Fear overcoms tge young Aussie. Her instincts scream at her to flee, but Michelle's larger frame has her pinned down tight. Evans' lips quiver as she pleads, "No, no," Michelle's ass hovers ever closer. "
Puhleaseeee d.. don...", Michelles cheeks slowly drop an inch, eclipsing Evans' petrified face, "Not my
faaace! You're
soooo gross!" Evans' nose is now nudged against the crevice of the pale American's cheeks. "Nohohooo
MRPHHH!" Evans squeals.
Indiana's oval face, an object of lust and jealousy, adorned with luscious pink lips, cute button nose and deep blue piercing eyes accompanied by thin black lashes, and thin light brown eyebrows that are now arched in shock, is completely conceled. Her lustful, delicate tan features veiled by an embrace of magnolia-white skin -- that skin so prized by pale women and so carefully guarded by sunscreen to block the hot sun, now nestled down on Evans. Michelle wiggled her hips, wedging Indiana's nose deep inside her crevice, her swaying, sweaty cheeks encasing the Aussie's screaming, mortified face, creating an air-tight seal.
Leaning forward, placing her hands on Evans' abdomen to steady herself, Michelle goes to work, grinding and scrubbing her beautiful derriere, scouring the landscape of her rival's face. Evans' kicking and muffled screaming is quickly and systematically reduced to twitches and murmurs until the young lady stops moving entirely, her body succombing to the smother. Michelle peels her ass off of her foe's slumbering face. Standing up, Michelle observes her handiwork.
Indiana Evans once flawless face is covered by a ruddy, tear-stained mask of humiliation. Her once arrogant smirking lips have transformed into an unappealing open-mouthed gape, topped off with saliva trickling down the side of her luscious pink lips.
Michelle bends down, gripping a handful of sand, "Well, this has been fun, but I have a hot date and, since you won't be seeing any action," Trachtenberg peels back Indiana's bikini bottoms, shoving the sand inside the crotch-panel. Kicking the passed out brat onto her stomach, Michelle grabs the back of her bottoms and jerks the material, visciously tugging the bottoms high up, Indiana's tight, tanned tush. The flimsy material cuts deep inside her womanhood as it is stretched upward, biting into her ass. To add to the pain, the coarse sand grates against her senitive flesh as it penetrates her vagina. "Sleep tight, cutie." Michelle giggles as she skips away, leaving her rival behind.
Indiana lays face-down, her bottoms wedged into an excruciating thong, grains of sand rubbing her raw, and the scent of Trachtenberg's famous derriere lingering in her nostrils. Off in the distance, the distinct sound of a camera shutter clicks.
