Chapter 890

"Steph said she’s just pulling up to valet," she said, her voice rough from the previous night’s drinks and weed.

"I feel like a chaperone," I said jokingly, putting my hand on Rita’s thigh.

She wore a short, faux leather skirt and skintight hot pink top. And she had indulged me by not wearing a bra. I loved seeing the outline of her luscious breasts, capped by her nipples protruding from the fabric.

"Here she is," Rita said, ignoring my comment and standing up.

I stood, too, and saw a girl about Rita’s height approaching us. She wore a black bodysuit, flat black shorts cinched with a wide Gucci belt, and striking hot pink heels. Two things, however, stood out as the most striking. She had stunning tits, the kind that caused any red-blooded American male to do a triple take. And she sported the most luxurious, thick mane of dirty blonde hair I had ever seen. It cascaded down her shoulders, like a silky ramp you could use to dive