Funny Aprons For Women Novels & Stories

He skidded to a stop in front of me, breathing hard but grinning like he’d won something. “I’m weady to cook now,” he announced proudly. I crouched to his level, smiling despite myself. “Oh, yeah?” He nodded seriously. “Uh-huh. I weady.” “Well,” I said, standing and reaching into a drawer, “then you’re going to need this.” I pulled out an apron. It was small, clearly meant for a child, bright blue with cartoon sharks all over it—wide grins, sharp teeth, little fins sticking out everywhere.

"That apron looks real good on you, honey," Rona teased, "but don't let Bob know you stole one of his." Jessie laughed and looked down at herself. She needed to get some aprons that fit her better, but she'd been so busy she just hadn't had time. This one nearly swallowed her up, but at least it covered her clothes. She always tried to remember to take it off before she went out front to wait on customers. The one time she forgot, her crew and some of her customers had a good laugh at her expense, a laugh that broke the ice all around.

Ellie was walking around the front of the car on her way to get in. "Cindy!" I was getting impatient. "You're wasting our fucking time! Get in the car. We're just going over to Ellie's place. Do it. C'mon, Ellie's waiting for you." Both girls were wearing their store checker outfits - dark green short-sleeved dresses that looked as if they were a size too small, and that ended about four inches above the knee. A white bibbed apron was worn on top of the dress. It looped over the neck and had a narrow bib that conveniently fit between their tits then flared out and ended about six inches above the dress hem. The apron tied in back.

She was a few steps away from where I stood, sitting in a pile of baking condiments and pans that I assumed we needed to bake what she had insisted we did—cookies. But then a hot flash of bare skin caught my eyes. She was wearing a chest to knee long apron that covered her nipples only down to her pussy, but everywhere else was exposed. My eyes widened.

"Are you going to stare at that apron until it can talk back?" Julian’s deep voice pulled Claire out of her daydream. She jumped, nearly dropping the phone she had been clutching tightly on the bed. She turned toward the slightly open bedroom door, seeing Julian standing there in a black shirt with the sleeves neatly rolled up. Claire let out a long breath, her eyes returning to the brown apron with the Central Café logo hanging behind the door. "I was just thinking. Should I wash it and return it, or keep it as a memento of my own foolishness?"

Marlene herself was seventy-something — the something was doing real work; she could have been seventy-two or seventy-nine and neither would have surprised Eleanor — and had the physical bearing of a woman who had been on her feet for fifty years and intended to remain there. She wore the same style of apron every day, white with a small blue check, and she moved behind the counter with an efficiency so practiced it had become something close to art: no motion wasted, no surface left unwiped, the coffee always coming before you’d quite decided you wanted more.

The apron was a piece of clothing that was usually worn by a chef in the kitchen. It varies in shapes but had one thing in common, which was to protect its wearer from unwanted stains while they’re cooking. However, to spice up the intimate relationship between him and his mate, Drake Silvermoon had another creative idea on how to use that piece of clothing. ‘I think Noah will look so sexy in this…’ he thought while holding the black apron on his way to Noah’s bedroom.

He asked. "Of course, I do" She whimpered. "I love you more "She cackled touching the apron he worn. " whats funny?" He inquired. "This....I mean.. this apron looks funny on you" she snickered. He smiled and pulled her to himself. Her chest pressed on his and he stole a quick kiss from her lips. "Gross" she chortle. "I'm wearing an apron, trying to cook something delicious for you but here you are, making jest of me" he grimace his mouth.

Fits of laughter bubbled up from within me causing a frown to shade it's appearance on Braden's face. "Why are you laughing?" Braden threw me a question. I was expecting that. "What is all these?" I asked in between my laughs in a sort of high pitched voice. "What is all what?" Braden replied my question with a question. I sighed. " The apron. What is it meant for? You look so funny in it to be honest. It does not fit you" I blatantly told him the truth. "The fuck you are so rude Camilla. And what is an apron meant for? Ok sorry I did not answer the question well. This apron is meant for washing the floors" Braden replied with a disconcerted look.