Get dressed

"Well, let's go fuck up some bitches then."

You jump to your feet and head to the door, but Kimmy grabs your wrist. She must be stronger than she looks, because she stops you without seeming to try all that hard.

"Christy, wait, we can't go out there like this. We don't match!"

You look in a mirror, and it's true. Kimmy's wearing her usual white hot pants and american flag bikini. You're wearing a red robe with white trim across your shoulders and nothing else, compliments of the match with Missy Claus.

"So..? I don't have any other outfits that's why I'm wearing this thing."

"They keep a supply of clothes around here. C'mon!" Kimmy gets up an heads off into the building, dragging you with her. You look down at her ass, framed by those white shorts. Just a little bit of bounce as she walks. Nice firm fitness chick ass, with just enough padding to sink your fingers into... yeah you could do worse for a tag team partner.

Kimmy opens a door to what looks like a giant closet full of all sorts of clothes. Everything from dominatrix leathers to normal, casual clothes, and just about everything in between.

"These are about your size, right?" Kimmy hands you a pair of jean shorts about like the ones you wore for your first match. You step into them and wrestle them into place, biting back a sigh as the rough hem nestles into your lower lips. Kimmy had found a pair of camoflague shorts just about the same as your jean shorts, and she put these on. She handed you a red bikini, and put a blue one on herself.

There was a long mirror in the closet so that you could see yourself from every angle. The two of you did match now. Her blue bikini only lay flat against her tits, which didn't seem to need any support to stand up perky and round, and you feel your own nipples begin to press into your top.

"Got any idea what music we can enter to?" She asks.

As a madder of fact you do. "Ever heard of 'American Woman' by Lenny Kravitz?"