Swing Shift, part 5

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When I came out Franky was chatting with an older lady that I’d seen before. I couldn’t see a scene like that without imagining that they were screwing. The lady was in her 30s or 40s with long wavy hair. She was wearing a short skirt and tall boots. She was dressed a little young for her age, and she seemed to be hitting on an 18 year old man. If Franky wasn’t fucking her yet, he probably would be soon.

“I’ll see ya later, Linda,” Franky said, and ‘Linda’ gave him the little wave you give to a child, and a teasing little smile.

“She seemed nice,” I said, allowing him to tell me about her if he wanted to. I wasn’t going to come out and ask him if he had designs on her. I wasn’t going to give him a reason to call me a hypocrite.

Franky just stared.

“What?!” I shouted. “She seemed nice!”

Franky kept staring.

“Dude,” I said, “I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted to fuck her. I want to fuck her.”

“It’s always about sex with you,” he said.

“Dude,” I said, “We’re 18. We’re supposed to be thinking about it night and day, right now. I’ve had a boner for as long as I can remember.”

“Don’t you ever think about Amy?” Franky said. “What if she found out you were fucking every little tart that came into this store?”

I shrugged. I love Amy. We had fairly regular sex but it was hard because of our schedules. She’s a manager at a Burger Stop, which was okay when I was working at a different Burger Stop, but, when I got fired, I went to 7-Eleven and everyone starts on the night shift.