Military Stories Funny Novels & Stories

“The ladies just wouldn’t stop talking tonight.” Vincent nodded absently, eyes glued to the screen. “My dad used to tell stories about the war, you know. Real ones. Not like these Hollywood types. He was in the Pacific, said the heat was worse than the Japs…” He launched into the same tired anecdote I’d heard at least twenty times, voice droning on about rations and foxholes while I stood there, pussy still throbbing from Henry’s thick cock. I tuned him out, nodding at the right moments, smiling when he paused for breath. He didn’t notice the flush on my cheeks.

“Clint—I’m—I’m so—” I held up my hand. “Really, it’s okay. This is exactly what I didn’t want to happen. I don’t want you guys feeling like you can’t crack jokes or poke fun at things or generally have a laugh. I almost died. It happened. But it didn’t kill me. It’s going to take more than that. Okay?” Aly nodded softly. “Okay.” Mike saluted me. “Loud and clear, General.” I snickered. “Rae. You good?”

Although, I couldn't understand the reason why the young warrior said ‘I just got lucky’. “What if it wasn't luck as you guys believed?” Suddenly, they burst into a loud laughter in unison. “Really?” “Then what is it?” One of them surged forward. “Or you've also got some magical gift like Maddie does?” They chuckled softly, grinning before they burst into an erupting laughter. I frowned my brow at what seemed embarrassing to my image. “What exactly is so funny?” …And who the hell is the ‘Maddie’ in question?

Acting upon her words, her bodyguards surrounded William and Hilda took a couple of steps back, watching in anticipation. There was a good saying on the Internet that went, 'Don't go out drinking on Army Day. Don't get drunk if you're drinking, and don't cause any trouble if you're drunk, or you'll realize that the people at the table next to you are not only brutal, but also especially good in fights. That's because veterans are gathering everywhere.'

He stopped suddenly and hugged her tight. "I'm sorry. I'm here to help you overcome your grief and not get reminded of mine." He said..she nodded and patted his back. " It's okay." " Now do you want to hear the most embarrassing moment of my life?" He asked with a grimace...she started to laugh even before he told her how his pants had dropped when he was fighting with the sword and how he had refused to take it up because even though it was a mock fight, his opponent had refused to stop so he could wear his pants again and that had left him no choice but to fight that way until the leader of the warriors asked that they stop the fight..he told her a few other embarrassing stories all of whi

If he answers he shoots things for fun on the weekend, he'll ruin my fantasies. Crispin laughs, not at all put off by my ongoing questions. "Former SEAL, not just any military." I just manage to hold back the eye roll. "Of course." I've heard it all from my brother. I've never met a more muscled group of men so hung up on titles in my entire life. It's like they all joined cliques in high school and needed to run around bashing each other to see who was the best. As long as they're not in the Air Force they all seem to be the same. Those poor Air Force boys can't catch a break. Ninety percent of the jokes are about the air boys.

“I could crush you without breaking a sweat, Lotto! I still have the military behind me! And Oakley? Has he forgotten that he has dealings with the Department of Defense? I could plant illegal weapons or treasonous documents in his containers at the flick of my fingers. If anyone hears a word of this, I will destroy you all!" Jared didn't look scared. In fact, he started to laugh. He stood up, clapping his hands slowly as he walked toward the door. "Good one, Rudy. Truly. That was a hell of a speech. A very predictable one." Miller looked confused at his reaction, his eyes darting between Jared and the exit. "Why are you laughing?" Jared reached the door and swung it open. "Did you get all o

We're hunkered down till morning. Rain hit like a freight train, wind howling through the palms. We cooked canned beans over a gas stove, the hut lit by lantern flicker. Conversation flowed easier than I expected, him sharing war stories (sanitized, of course), me venting about city life, the emptiness after the funeral. His laugh was rare, deep, sending vibrations through me when he leaned close to pass the salt.

“Stay sharp. We're on alert. We'll leave according to your schedule in the morning.” “You could have been so efficient when we were in the army, couldn't you? It would have spared me from drinking urine and being in terrible conditions.” I teased, making him laugh and raise his hands in acknowledgment. “Then you wouldn't have good stories to tell!” Greg chuckled, walking away and disappearing among the trees.

"You have no idea–I was just joking around, but those disgusting guys went crazy asking me for your contact." The old me would have already been crying, asking her how she could do this to me, voice breaking. Not this me. My teeth clenched so hard they hurt. My whole body trembled with anger. I snatched the flyer out of her hand and slapped her across the face. Tara screamed, clutching her cheek in disbelief. "You hit me? I treat you like my best friend, and you can't even take a joke anymore?" Best friend? I let out a cold laugh.