Quick Bedtime Stories For Adults Novels & Stories

Just as he approached a room’s doorway, he heard Tina and Kara’s conversation drifting from inside the room. “Tonight’s bedtime story is called ‘Tadpoles Searching for Their Mommy.’ The warm spring is here… A bunch of little tadpoles want to look for their mommy… After overcoming all the obstacles, the little tadpoles finally found their froggy mommy. Together, they lived happily ever after…” Tina’s tone was gentle as she read the bedtime story out loud from the storybook to her daughter. Kara lay in her arms, her heavy eyelids already glued together. She struggled to say, “The little tadpoles are very pitiful… I won’t be separated from you, Mommy… Even if we do get separated, I’ll find you

“I am not sleepy!”, the little girl grumpily said. Her father was trying to put her to sleep with a lullaby, yet failing at the same time. He let out a sigh and said, “ Zeru, you have to sleep, it is late and you have lessons early in the morning.” Zeru, “But father, I am not sleepy. How about you tell me a story instead, please.” Father, “You little troublemaker! Do you know your way out huh?! Okay, but promise you will sleep after the story and no excuse.”

Andrew's eyes remained fixed on the documents in front of him as he circled and marked them with a pen. "Daddy, we can't sleep," June said softly. "Daddy, Daddy, can you tell us a bedtime story?" Andrew replied nonchalantly, "No." "Why?" The two children walked over to Andrew and looked up at him. "Mommy always tells us bedtime stories. We can't sleep without bedtime stories." "Just close your eyes and you'll fall asleep," Andrew said. June reached out and tugged at Andrew's clothes. "We tried, but we couldn't sleep."

That’s all that matters to me. After chatting with our little man for a while longer. We give him fun-filled bubble bath, put him in his pajamas, and tuck him into bed. We sit with him for at least another hour reading his favorite bedtime stories until he falls into a deep, restful sleep. Even then, we don’t move. We’re too enraptured in the simple pleasure of watching our dear child sleep.

And when I returned home, I was too exhausted to spend much time with Kade or the twins. I glanced at the clock in front of me: 7:30 p.m. “Okay,” I said softly, shutting down my laptop. It was time to go home to my family. *** “…The man heard a thump, and away he ran! It was just a sheep, with an old tin can!” I closed the book gently and set it on the bedside drawer. I turned back, smiling softly as I watched the twins sleeping soundly. I’d made it home in time to read them a bedtime story, which I hadn’t been able to do all week. I leaned over and kissed their heads one after the other. “Goodnight, my babies,” I whispered softly.

But there was no guilt, no shame. We had moved past it… at least he had. For me, it became all I could think about. Every night, as soon as the lights went off, I thought about sneaking into his room again, and instead of walking away, I fantasized about getting filled with his big cock. I thought about what it would feel like to have him buried deep inside me with his fingers curling around my hair.

Why didn’t you wake me Papa, you know I love a good storm? ‘Are you telling me you did not hear it?’ He laughed at her as she shook her head and frowned ‘That’s not fair Papa, you should have woken me up’ She pouted prettily and he grinned at her, ‘I’m sorry baby, I promise next time I will wake you’ When she went to the library after finishing her chores the book was nowhere to be found and she searched it from top to bottom. Frowning she looked around and then began pulling books from the shelves,

Go and sleep, okay? It's already getting late and you have to go to school tomorrow. You won't be able to wake up on time if you do not go to sleep now." George agreed and went to bed. "But, who will tell me a bedtime story now that you're busy?" George asked. Elena assured him, "Of course, I will." Leaving her laptop, she went to sit beside him on the bed and began to tell him the same story she had told him every night. When she saw that he had begun to sleep, she put a cover over him and helped him lie down. Afterward, she went back to what she was doing.

My boys glance over at each other while holding out one of their favourite bedtime storybooks, disappointment all over their face, Neo wraps his arms around the book and pouts. “I don’t wanna grow up,” Neo says, his eyes teary as he starts to whimper, “I just want a bedtime story,” he tells me, his tears already getting the book wet. Plop! I feel my bed press down and turn to find Ash who’s helped himself on the bed, “if you won’t be telling us a story then I’ll stay here with you,” my grumpy young man says, staring off into the far end as he murmurs. “Alright, alright, I’ll read you a bedtime story,” I agree, and at once their faces turn bright, Ash stands on my bed, he’s jumping excitedly

A safe space for the little ones to move freely. Bedtime stories became a cherished tradition, with Liam’s deep voice weaving tales that transported the children to magical realms. Davi, with his gentle lullabies, lulled the mischievous trio into a peaceful slumber. As the house settled into quietude, Liam and Davi would steal moments to reflect on the beautiful chaos that defined their lives and also to steal intimate moments that belonged only to them.