Clean Funny Stories Novels & Stories

Way too much food. But nobody seemed to care. The apartment filled with laughter. Stories. Jokes. Playful arguments. At one point Lily and Greta somehow ended up debating who knew me better. Minnie naturally joined in. Mostly to expose embarrassing childhood stories. Which I absolutely did not appreciate. "Remember when Carla tried cutting her own hair?" "Minnie." "And cried because she looked like a mushroom?" "MINNIE." The laughter that followed nearly shook the apartment. I buried my face in a pillow.

He made me laugh, a genuine, bubbling sound that felt good after the fear. “Your turn,” he challenged, when he finished. “Tell me a joke. Something to keep the darkness at bay.” I thought for a moment. “Okay, okay… What do you call a fake noodle?” He raised an eyebrow, a slight smile playing on his lips. “What?” “An impasta!” I delivered the punchline with a flourish, and he actually laughed, a deep, booming sound that warmed the room. “Alright, alright, that was a good one, for a rookie,” he teased. “My turn. Why did the scarecrow win an award?”

He found her pussy slick and ready, and a growl thundered deep in his chest. "Wet for me already," he groaned, his hand sliding over her folds. "All from just a kiss and a story." He pressed his fingers on her clit and made a merciless, pinpoint pressure on it, his gaze locked on hers, each instant of pleasure that passed on her face. "I want to hear you. I want to hear how much you enjoy this." Sloane moaned, sinking into his touch. "Don't stop."

We talked for hours as the night wore on. “You really thought about quitting because of burnout?” I asked, tracing a finger along his chest. “Yeah. Days blurred together. Then you started coming in regularly. Made me look forward to shifts again.” He smiled in the low light. “What about you? Why history?” “I like stories that last,” I said. “People who lived real lives hundreds of years ago. Makes my problems feel small.” We laughed softly. Then the touching started again. This time I climbed on top, riding him slow while we kept talking. He looked up at me like I was something special. His hands roamed my body, squeezing my breasts, guiding my hips.

he crouched beside the couch and lifted her feet, grabbing a pair of scissors from the side table, he cut through the thick mummy bandages that her feet were held in, cursing Fred "Haven't you heard the story about the old man who was woken up from his deep sleep by his neighbour’s son, he was so angry that he cursed the poor kid to become a frog,” Samaira looked at him with a deadpan face as he stood up and discarded the bandages in the bin, then sanitised his hands and looked at her, had it been Shain or someone else who would’ve told her this so called ‘famous’ story which she had never heard before, she would have laughed, however, it was Siddharth Kapoor the ever royal, ever elusive and

It felt good—light, like a breath of fresh air in this park where the wind rustled the leaves around us. We sat on the bench after that, side by side, our shoulders almost touching. He started telling these silly jokes—the kind that weren’t even funny, just dry and ridiculous, like “Why did the scarecrow win an award? Because he was outstanding in his field.” Corny as hell. But I laughed anyway, hard and genuine, because the real joke was how bad they were, how he delivered them with that straight face like he thought they were gold. It warmed me up inside, chasing away the chill for a bit.

“Viv, what’s going on with you? What are you laughing about?” She kept laughing until tears rolled down her cheeks. She wiped the corners of her eyes continuously and tried to suppress her laughter to tell him, “I was joking with you. I heard a joke from my colleague today. She spoke about how fiancées are proposing break-ups with their fiancés. The fiancés answer with all sorts of strange replies. As a result, we made a pact to try it out with our partners when we got home.”

I said calmly. His lips finally broke out in a grin. “Of course, Sira. I’m going to tell you a story, and you will forget all about your pain in no time.” I cocked my head to the side, in a bit to humour him. He took the bait like I knew he would, and launched into a story about two wolves. I was only half listening to it, but still the sound of Cancil’s voice slowly put me at ease. I smiled when he did, and even tried to laugh, though it sounded weird even to my ears. I figured that if I actually laughed, I would simply burst into tears. So, I stuck the fake smiles and tried my best to look invested in what he was saying.

"In the meantime, we can still have some fun. How about a couple of stories? Well, we have plenty of funny and interesting stories from our time here." I gave them an appreciative smile and looked up at them. "How about you guys tell me a story? That might keep my mind off stuff." Aurelia smiled and began recounting an incident from the past. "Well, there was this one time that one of the visiting pack leaders got his foot stuck in a bucket. He was trying to act all serious and dignified, but he was hopping around like a rabbit. It was so hard not to laugh!" I chuckled, my mind conjuring up the scene. "That does sound funny."

“He’s so refreshing!” Auntie asked Finn to sing for them. He stood up, cleared his throat, and belted a terrible edition and version of “Can’t Help Falling in Love” soo off-key and, dramatic, his arms spread wide like he was on Broadway. Halfway through, he forgot the words and started making them up: “Wise men say… only fools rush in… but I can’t help… falling in love with your daughter… and her excellent taste in lasagna…” The table erupted in laughter, even Dad cracked a smile.