Strip down and trash talk

Kim glared at Trish conceitedly. "A lot of women have thought they could stand up to this body, whore. But they learned better when I had them pinned to the floor, driving them to orgasm after orgasm, until they begged me to stop. I didn't, of course." She unhooked her bra, displaying nipples as hard as pencil erasers. Then, turning around (but keeping a close eye on Trish), she bent over from the waist and slid out of her panties. Her pussy was already dripping wet, not entirely unrelated to Trish's earlier ****.

Trish, however, only smirked. "You may have great tits, hon, but that doesn't give you any reason to avoid the squat rack." As Kim snarled at the insult, Trish turned around. Hanging onto one of the shower heads for balance, she began flexing her glutes. Kim watched in amazement as Trish shimmied out of her panties without once using her hands to touch them.

Turning back around, Trish caught her panties on one foot, and casually flipped them to Kim. Kim looked down at them, and suddenly, something hit her in the face. It was Trish's lacy bra.

"Also, my tits are better than yours."

Kim growled and stormed forward, determined to rub this arrogant bitch's face in her words, completely forgetting that she was the one that started it all.