Novel & Cerita Short Funny Bedtime Stories For Adults

I would be damned if I only instructed them and left. For a million years, my order would only accumulate dirt, as Ethan and Ezra would bury themselves in their video games and Emily would baby Penny. “Mum, tell us a bedtime story.” Ezra pleaded. Defeated, I began my tale of the legendary Wolf's King and his Luna. It happened to be their favourite story, and they never grew weary of it. In less than ten minutes, they were all fast asleep, like wasted adults. I tucked them into bed and watched them sleep for a while before turning off the light.

She nodded earnestly, her little face serious as she scrubbed away. We then went to their room, where I helped them into their favorite pajamas. Zenith chose his dinosaur ones, while Zendaya picked her unicorn set. “Alright, into bed you go,” I said, tucking them under the covers. “How about a bedtime story?” Their faces lit up, and they nodded eagerly. I sat on the edge of the bed and began, “Once upon a time, in a vast and endless desert, there was a single seed. This seed was special because it had a dream—to become a beautiful flower.”

Then, in a low, even voice, she began telling stories. She told five. Thomas didn't seem remotely sleepy. In the past, by the third story, Theo would already have been asleep. But she knew better than to compare Thomas to him. Thomas's insomnia ran deep; his body and mind refused to rest easily. Patient as ever, Sharon kept going. She had prepared around thirty bedtime stories that night. If none of them worked, she would simply try another approach tomorrow. But the truth was—she hadn't slept much the night before, keeping vigil over him. Now, lulled by her own soft cadence and the drowsy pull of her words, she began to nod off mid-sentence.

"I didn't cry oceans." "H-y-p-e-r-b-o-l-e, hyperbole." Ethan fumed, while Sydney smiled at them. "So, Kelly-" Ethan got up. "Mum, I'm going to bed." "We'll all go together, sit." Emily narrated the rest of the story, Sydney laughed when Ethan kept complaining she exaggerated it. After dinner, Sydney took them to their room. She read Emily's favorite bedtime story, Goldy Locks and the Three Bears. Sydney was about to leave the room when Emily whined. "Mommy I'm cold." Her eyes were closed, and a thumb was in her mouth.

They always do after this. Back in the dormitory, the buzz of evening voices has loosened into something warm. Kai hums as he mends a tear in his sleeve; Marla tells Hannah a story about a noble who fainted after seeing a small frog. I lie on my narrow bed and stare at the ceiling.

"Too scary daddy!! Tim declared and hid himself under the quilt. Leon followed suit. They covered themselves and didn't even let their head out. Allen stood up and went away. The story was indeed scary and that was all he could think of and quickly made up to tell them. Aren't they the ones who wanted a bedtime story before they could sleep. He sat on the sofa in the sitting room. And less than twenty minutes later, Ms Dorothy walked out of the room. "Are they asleep?" Allen asked and Ms Dorothy nodded. "Since I don't know which fairy story their mother told them halfway, I sang them a poem and they drifted off to sleep. But eldest master, that story you were telling them was indeed scary. H

"You know the rules. Bedtime is bedtime. And besides, they probably want to have some grown-up talk." "What do grown-ups talk about?" I think for a second, then grin down at him. "Taxes," I say. "And their boring, boring jobs." Brandon wrinkles his nose in distaste. "Ugh." "Yeah, it's terrible," I say with a mock sigh, "but you have to do it, when you're a grown-up. Luckily for you, you're still a kid. So we don't have to talk about mortgages, and instead, I get to tell you a bedtime story. How's that sound?"

My pussy was still aching, waiting to be filled, but Roderick took so long to return. When he finally walked back into the house, I went to him again, placing my hands on his shoulders with a smirk on my face but he gently pulled away from me and sighed. My face fell, my heart thumping against my chest. “What's wrong?” “Lora, I don't want to do this. I promised your father on his deathbed that I would take care of you, this is wrong.” My eyes widened. “This counts as taking care of me.” He chuckled. “I'm exhausted, Lora. See you in the morning.” He kissed my forehead like he did every night and made his way up the staircase.

Shayla resisted longer, peppering me with last-minute questions about whether clouds slept and if frogs had birthdays. Lucas waited until the others were settled before speaking quietly. “Can you tell a story?” Something in his tone—hopeful, vulnerable—unlocked a memory deep inside me. “My mother used to tell me stories,” I said softly. “Would you like one of those?” Three heads nodded eagerly. So I began. I told them about the moon that fell in love with the sea but could never touch it, about the brave girl who taught the stars how to sing, about the fox who tricked winter into leaving early.

He seemed just woken up. I stood up and lifted him. I slowly rocked him, put his head between my neck. "Not yet, Baby. Go to sleep again." "I can't, Mommy. I miss Daddy's bedtime stories." He murmured. "I'll just tell you a story." I sighed. "What bedtime story do you want?" "It's about the King and Queen. The King left his Queen in the war so the enemy got the Queen." What the hell. "Baby, why-" I stopped speaking when the door opened. He was surprised to see us. Reid dropped from my grasp and ran towards Wright.