Friday Afternoon

Tick, tick, tick, tock,
I sit here staring at the clock.
Friday afternoon drags,
a few hours til hope.

Off to the waterhole I'll go,
the thought helps me cope.
I'll chat and tell tall stories,
buddies will laugh.
Bar maids will flirt,
while wearing tight skirts.

When I'm happy and a bit stewed,
I'll call and try not to be lewd.
With a giggle you'll say,
"You sound a bit tipsy".
"Are you coming over to fix me?"

In a flash,
dial an Uber.
Sounds of whip cracking,
buddies laughing like goobers.
They have their fun at my expense.
I smile,
 "enjoy stroking it by yourselves."
My only self-defense.

In your arms,
I shake off the work funk.
I lap from your fountain,
and sip from twin taps.
For two and a half days,
your nectar keeps me happily drunk.

Now only three hours to go.
Faster time,
 I cannot make go.
Written by DaVinci_07 (Leo)
Author's Note
Quick write on a Friday afternoon watching the clock and day dreaming.
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 7 reading list entries 1
comments 11 reads 506
Commenting Preference: 
The author encourages honest critique.

Latest Forum Discussions
Today 2:54pm by Taurek
Today 2:36pm by JohnnyBlaze
Today 1:49pm by cold_fusion
Today 1:47pm by cold_fusion
Today 1:44pm by cold_fusion
Today 2:47am by mysteriouslady