Friday Parodies Novels & Stories

I shook my head, laughing, "You are horny as fuck...but fat cock Friday? Where did that come from?" "Whenever I visit Paige at school, it's always Friday afternoon when I land, and that's what she calls it." I reached under the bar and discreetly stroked a hand over his crotch, almost whispering in his ear, "I feel some fat cock Fridays, right here...and it sounds like I'm buying when we get home...and I plan to fuck you stupid, but you have to give me load or two." He grinned, "As a man with a reputation, you can bet I'm never turning that down."

Come on, come on, turn the radio on It’s Friday night, and it won’t be long Gotta do my hair, put my make-up on It’s Friday night, and it won’t be long ’Til I hit the dance floor, hit the dance floor I got all I need No, I ain’t got cash, I ain’t got cash But I got you, baby Baby, I don’t need dollar bills to have fun tonight (I love cheap thrills) Baby, I don’t need dollar bills to have fun tonight (I love cheap thrills) Loud music was playing in the car. He was clapping and driving along to the music. He was also singing along with the singer. He was a carefree guy. A perfect example of a womanizer, who has a lot of women in his life. He has charms. He knows how to charm the pants of women

Since they shared the same bed, Red’s movements always woke Blue. Red grabbed a marker and drew a fake mole near his left eye, matching Blue’s mole. “Wow! You look like a hardf*cker now, Red,” Blue teased with a grin. “Hardf*cker, your face!” Red retorted, mimicking Blue’s tone. “You really look like me now. But... you can’t fully be me unless you dance to ‘Twerk it Like Miley’ like I did in that scandal.” “Gross! I could never. Over my dead body,” Red replied as he walked out of the room.

Zendaya sat in her office listening to “Its Friday Again, then Saturday, Sunday by Mufasa. Since it was Friday she began to get in the groove with the song that goes. “Its Friday then it's Saturday Sunday what It's Friday than its Saturday Sunday what Its Friday than it's Saturday Sunday what Its Friday than it's Saturday Sunday what Its Friday then it's Saturday Sunday what Its Friday then it's Saturday Sunday what Their lives again Their lives will pull us through Their lives again Their lives will pull us through Their lives again Their lives will pull us through Their lives again Their lives will pull us through

"It's just lack of sleep." "Why, did you have hot wild sex last night?" He wiggled his eyebrows. "I don't even know the reason." I shrugged. "And eeew, who the hell on GOD's green earth has sex during their monthly flow." "Well, since you denied it, place a smile on that pretty ass face of yours and dance with me," He spoke before he swayed his hips from left to right. I chuckled at his silly ways and joined him in singing. "Thank GOD it's Friday, yeah yeah, it's Friday yeah yeah."

I sing the word in my head like a Broadway finale: “Do-o-one!” Let’s hear it for Friday victories and traumatizing boys before lunchtime. I think with a grin plastered across my face.

Monica says. She frowns, hurt by her distraction. “I was gonna ask what you thought, but you weren’t even watching.” Shit. She was right. She was so busy staring at Jackson like a lovesick puppy that she was missing out on the show. She knows she wants both Jackson and the competition, but the least she can do is focus on one at a time. She needs to get her priorities straight right now. Still, she can honestly say, “I was watching the judges' reactions. They were staying stoic, but your ‘Fuck Me, It’s Friday’ outfit was awesome.” Molly seems appeased, especially that she remembered her outfit name, but there’s no way she would forget things like ‘Make Me Monday’, ‘Tied Up Tuesday’, ‘Whack-

"Did you really think you could sneak up on me, Fridays?" ━━━━━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━━━━━ T O B E C O N T I N U E D...

He didn’t sigh when she arrived three minutes late to a pitch. He smirked — smirked! — when she called him “Spreadsheet Daddy” under her breath. And then, on Friday, the impossible happened. He laughed. Not a smirk. Not a scoff. A real, low, quiet chuckle. All because she’d Photoshopped his face onto a Renaissance painting for a meme she titled: "Sebastian Mason, Patron Saint of Budget Cuts." It was in the middle of a staff email chain titled “Friday Madness.” She hadn’t expected him to see it.

“And yet, I’m not complaining. Let’s go drink till our brains forget Monday exists.” They headed to the bar area, ordered rounds of colorful shots, and toasted loudly: “To letting loose!” “To chaos!” “To softies with six-packs!” One shot turned into three, three into seven, and soon they were laughing uncontrollably, Maya and Sophie half-dancing again, Jason singing off-key, and Nathan watching them all with a rare, genuine smile. “Thank God it’s Friday,” Nathan mumbled, clinking glasses with Jason. "Right?” Jason replied, swaying slightly. “We’re gonna regret this tomorrow.”