Casual Friday

Oh, shit.

Friday grabbed her shopping cart tightly, knuckles white as bone, cheeks red as a beet.

Why was he working today? She thought he only worked in the weekends. Fuck.

From the canned foods isle she planned her next move. Mom would not accept her returning without her biological gluten-free tortilla’s, which of course he was blocking the way to, so she’d have to go out and grab them.

Would he like her like this? She looked like shit. No s, nerdy big glasses, lazy ponytail with unruly locks in her eyes, white top and sweatpants.

She couldn’t really wait things out here, that would be even weirder.

Lost in thought, she didn’t notice the object of her obsession make his way to her very hiding spot.

“Hey! Wednesday, right?”

She could die. Ever since that Netflix show people had been jokingly calling her the wrong name, until strangers thought it was her real one.

“Hey,” she stammered. “Yeah, I mean, no, it’s Friday. But it’s fine.”

Fuck, she was an idiot.

“Oh, right.” He smiled and got on with his work, opening the box he carried under his arm and shoved its contents onto a shelf.

“Yeah, uh, bye!”

“See ya.”

She didn’t know how she ended up at the freezers, but she knew she must’ve looked like a tomato while getting there. Her crush didn’t even know her name, and yet she had their wedding all planned out in her head. She wouldn’t be wearing sweatpants.

“Hey, Friday, that you?”

Mister Parker squinted his eyes as if he was looking at a Picasso or something.

“Mister P! Nice to see you,” she said, glad to see a friendly face.

“Same,” he smiled, seemingly glad he hadn’t bothered a random girl in the supermarket. “God, it must’ve been years. How’ve you been?”

“Uh, good! Studying and stuff.”

“Good, good. How’s your mom?”

“Great! How’s Amanda?”

“Oh, you know her; always busy. Barely hear from her. Wish she would’ve gone to uni here, like you.”

“Yeah, well. I’d like to get out of the house soon, do my own thing.”

“With your boyfriend?” Mister P grinned.

She instantly felt her face turn red again. “Oh, you saw that? I uh… no, not my boyfriend. Not sure he’d be interested in me, looking like this,” she confessed.

“What? You’re kidding. Have you seen yourself? You’re stunning.”

She snorted. “Thanks Mister P, I just don’t feel that hot at the moment.”

“Hey, I think you’re great,” he said with a kind smile. “Want me to cheer you up?”

She managed a grin. “You would?”

“You ask that like it’d be a chore,” he laughed. “I’d love to.”

#

She sighed with relief as she rested her forehead against the cool freezer. For the moment, thoughts of her embarrassment disappeared. Mister P surprised her. She always liked him, welcoming and caring to her, as was Misses P, but she hadn’t imagined seeing him after Amanda had gone off to uni, let alone like this. Friday hadn’t seen her own dad in fifteen years, so maybe he’d been somewhat of a surrogate or whatever. She wondered if he would mind if…

Might as well ask.

“Muh- mister P?”

“Want to stop?”

“No- no,” she urged. “Can I- can I call you daddy?”

He chuckled. “Sure, Friday, if that floats your boat.”

Hell yeah.

“Thank you,” she sighed. “Daddy.”

She felt his dick twitch as she said it. His hands gripped her hips tighter as he sped up.

“What’s going on here?”

She knew who it was before she turned her head towards Mrs P. She had always thought her to be the most beautiful woman she’d ever seen; piercing blue eyes, dirty blonde hair and the figure of one of those models from her grandpa’s old pin-up albums.

“Huh-hey, Mrs P!”

“Friday!” She exclaimed. “I barely recognized you. My, you’ve grown. I bet you end up like this all the time.”

Friday blushed. “Not really, I get shy a lot.”

“I can’t imagine why,” Mrs P said. “You’ve always been such a beauty! How are you doing?”

Friday caught up with her best friend’s mom as her husband gently slid in and out of her, just enough to distract her. Mrs P noticed her struggling though, and chuckled.

“Sorry Mrs P, your husband’s really good at this.”

“I know hun,” Mrs P answered, and gave her husband a kiss on the cheek. “That’s why I married him. Okay, I’m gonna grab the last of the groceries, be back in a jiff.”

“Can you grab my boobs, daddy?” Friday moaned.

Mister P slid his big hands underneath her top and pulled it over her head, dropping them next to her sweatpants. He was just the right amount of rough and tender with her.

She was just about to come when she noticed her crush staring at her her. When he caught her eye she dared a smile. He smiled back and she came.

“Go talk to him,” Mister P urged, after she’d pulled her sweatpants back up. “I know what a 20 year old guy looks like when he’s into someone. I used to be one, you know.” At that moment, Mrs P returned with a basket full of groceries. Friday’s heart melted for a moment, imagining Mr and Mrs P as a young couple.

“Okay, I’ll try.”

“Nice to see you again Friday,” Mrs P assured her, “come have dinner sometime. Don’t be a stranger.”

“I will,” Friday promised, leaving the older couple behind as Mrs P dropped to her knees to clean her husband’s dick.

“Okay, take two Fri,” she told herself as she made her way back to her crush. “Time to get yourself a boyfriend.”