Free Story – Funny Bone

Humor can be the secret to sexual success.

I looked across the crowded bar at the beautiful blonde. She had big tits, which I thought would be nice to suck on. I walked over to her, not really knowing what I was going to do. She was busy staring at the muscled bouncer, an ape-like guy with no neck. When I got closer to her, I nervously asked, “Hi, can I buy you a drink?”

Without even looking at me, she immediately replied, “Fuck off, creep.” So I did what anyone else in my situation would do: I went home, got the hand lotion, and stroked my cock to a not-so-satisfying cum.

That chick was the last in a particularly long line of strikeouts. I decided I had nothing to lose by changing my approach in my quest for pussy, because I couldn’t do any worse than I had been. Maybe just a change in style would improve my batting average— or at least give me a chance to take a few swings. I decided to try a bit of humor.

One night, I was in a small club and spotted a tall, good-looking woman. She was well-proportioned with a beautiful smile. In heels, she was a good five inches taller than me, but I figured what the hell and walked over to chat her up.

With unusual bravado, I decided to play on the height difference and asked, “Tell me, do you ever go out with dwarfs?” To my amazement, she laughed. Sensing I might have a remote chance of charming my way into her pussy, I continued. “I was wondering if I might buy you a drink, wax your car, or simply grovel at your feet…”

She laughed again and said, “Sure, my car could use some waxing.” We didn’t end up in the parking lot that night, but I did start dating her. On the second date, I took her back to my apartment, and I want to tell you that this Amazon goddess fucked my brains out. (Looking back, I am sure my success was mainly because I made her laugh.)

Encouraged by my initial success, I began to work on other original approaches. I took lines from movies, lines from comedians’ acts, even lines from books. I gave all of these a little twist to make them funny and further my cause. I even did impressions to amuse the ladies. I tried anything I could think of, which I thought would be entertaining. I found that the more offbeat approaches worked best for me, like: “Excuse me, miss, but I seem to have misplaced my Purple Heart medal. But don’t worry; I have another one at home.”

While my batting average began to improve, there were still occasional dry spells. Humor helped me get through those times when I needed to use a massage parlor. Usually, if you want anything more than a basic massage at those places, the girls require “tips” of 10 dollars, all the way up to 100 dollars. I have found that by being nice and getting them to laugh during the massage, either they don’t charge me for the extras at all, or the additional amount is nominal.

I began with small talk, throwing in bits of nonsense like: “I was married for a while; it didn’t work out, so I bought my ex-wife a one-way plane ticket to Siberia.” Or, “My wife used to say, ‘Sex is dirty.’ Do you know what it’s like to make love and be sprayed with Lysol?” When the masseuse is laughing, she’s being entertained and enjoying what she’s doing all the more. This seems to personalize the experience for her as well as you, and it becomes less of a ‘business’ proposition.

Humor has also given me a way to deal with frustration. Once I took a date to a party, and after we had been there a few minutes, she disappeared. I hadn’t seen her for over an hour and began to get worried. Finally, I went upstairs and discovered her in bed with the host of the party. At first, I was angry and wanted to shoot them both, but somehow my sense of humor returned. I casually interrupted their fucking with: “Excuse me, Rick, but I couldn’t help but notice your penis is in my date. Does this mean she won’t need a ride home tonight?” The embarrassment those two suffered gave me more satisfaction than striking a blow would have.

Another time, I was in the middle of banging a very athletic chick who was thrashing to and fro, yelling, “More, more, I want more!” I was in her all the way, and all I could do was laugh and tell her, “I’m sorry, there is no more.”

One thing I have learned about humor is that, like everything else, there is a time and place for it. Sometimes, attempts at humor have backfired, like the night I approached a well-endowed little blonde and said, “Hi. Would you like to take me home and hurt me?” She said, “Why wait?” and kicked me in the shin! Or when I told another woman, “You’re beautiful; I want to have your child.’’ She turned around and said, “Sure, you can have my eight-year-old.”

One time, I almost spoiled a beautiful evening by being too silly. After going through a variety of very pleasurable positions, I was fucking Monica doggie style. All of a sudden, she started screaming, “Fuck that cunt!”

For some crazy reason, this reminded me of my old high school football days, when the cheerleaders would yell, “Hold that line!” I began to laugh, which Monica couldn’t understand. She asked me, “What’s so funny?”, and all I could do was giggle hysterically. The more I tried to stop, the worse it got. Very soon, Monica got pissed off, especially when I started to shrink from laughter. Our pleasurable union came to a screeching halt until I was able to regain some self-control. That taught me to keep my mind on the subject at hand.

In addition to helping me meet chicks and deal with frustration, humor has aided me in coping with strange sexual situations. One summer, I was dating a college girl in her twenties. On our first date, it was quite apparent that I turned her on, as I was by her. We went back to her apartment after seeing a movie, and sipped some wine while getting to know one another. Eventually, she led me into her bedroom.

We both undressed, and I couldn’t wait to climb on top of her and stick my cock in her warm, wet pussy.

However, you know how sometimes, while you’re fucking, a “vacuum” is created, and you hear sounds like a fart coming from the woman’s pussy? Well, hers was making that noise before I even got to the bed! At first, this startled me, and I tried to gag it with my hand, but that did no good. Then I wanted to slap it a little bit, but this thing wouldn’t shut up. I mean, it was barking so loud I didn’t know whether to fuck it or walk it.

Another strange, but funny situation occurred when I was with Jessie, a 27-year-old stewardess. Jessie, a tall, bosomy brunette, had a great sense of humor herself. The first night we had sex, we were high and both very excited. We fucked three times that night, and before each time, she would insert a tube of contraceptive foam.

The next time we got together, Jessie reached into her purse and pulled out over a half dozen tubes of contraceptive foam. She began stacking them on top of my stereo speaker. I looked over at this little pile and said, “Jessie, are you expecting company? I mean, hell, I’m no Superman.” To my surprise, she just laughed and began singing: “Once there was this little old ant, thought he could move a rubber tree plant.”

All of which proves the old adage, “You can get more pussy with laughter than dinner and a show.”

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