Dumb Stories Novels & Stories

"Are you dumb?" "Yes, and I also smell!"

She asked me in a very shaky voice. “Those comments don't mean anything babe. You are not a slut or a tramp. You are a wonderful person. All those people, the poster, the commenters, they do not know anything about you and if I am being honest, they do not deserve to know you. You are an amazing person, babe.

Warning: This chapter involves Dubcon What the —!” Stunned, Nath stared at his roommate. His roommate had his trousers down and was fucking himself in the ass with a dildo, a gay porno playing on the phone he held in his hand. Lyle froze, unable to move. “Nath,” he blustered. “It's not want you're thinking. It's not what it looks like.” “Really?” Nath gave a devilish smirk and folded his arms across his chest. “What does it look like?”

Brendon's smug expression, I knew that even she was well aware of it. Jones reluctantly stood up as he turned a few pages of the book in front. "Well, the title of the book is 'What stupid part of the stupid mistake made the God of stupidity stupid?'". Few people laughed at the back. "Oh how interesting, please keep going Mr. Wilson." Ms. Brendon announced. "W-well, the story is about a stupid king who was u-uh stupid enough to do an s-stupid mistake which was one of the stupidest things a stupid person could ever do."

Though his form of payment were long and boring war stories of his past. Old man Cabbage’s house was so old everyone in the town was afraid it would one day collapse and bury the old man under, to which his response was, ‘what are you brats talking about? Old Lilly here has withstood even nuclear bombs. There’s no way for it to fall apart now.’ Everyone knew he was just delusional. There had never been a war let alone a nuclear bomb anywhere near Old Crows Town unless the house was a migrating one that followed the old man to war. Plus, the house was a fragile one made of wood. There was no way it would survive gunshots, let alone a nuclear bomb. “That old man is just so pitiful. He’s all al

Prologue Kanua Village, Zambia; January, 1991 There was a murderous glow in the eyes of the ten year old Luyando Chimeko as she stood watch over her drunk and passed out father snoring away on the mat inside the tent that a good Samaritan had lent to them which they had come to regard as their home for the past one week.

~ END ~ Author’s Note: Next Story “The Poker Game”

His lips are still tilted in that wicked little smile. That night, Jabari and Amara refuse to close their eyes on the furs unless my voice tells them a bedtime tale. Even though I have spent five winters putting Zuberi and Tavon to sleep in our villa, I only know the basic old story about the three little forest pigs who built dens to hide from the big rogue wolf. The second I start whispering the words, I see the totally bored, blank stares on both of their little faces. They are way too smart for baby stories.

"Okay, okay. Maia, make sure you scream nice and loud so I can enjoy the show too," Raul said. They said long-haul truckers were a crude bunch. I was seeing it firsthand now. I couldn't believe the things coming out of their mouths. My face was burning a deep crimson. For the rest of the day, I lay on the sleeper berth in the back while the two men chatted up front. Most of their conversation consisted of raunchy jokes and dirty talk. I tried to act uninterested, but they were so loud that every word reached my ears.