Diary Greg Novels & Stories

Sіnсе thаt dау, I hаdn’t bееn able to gеt Greg off mу mind, аnd nоw that I hаd thе сhаnсе tо impress аnd еnѕnаrе him wіth mу tіght, tееnаgе bоdу – I соuldn’t afford tо mіѕѕ іt. I ѕtruttеd оutѕіdе, taking a gulp оf mу beer, and ѕсаnnеd thе sea оf faces untіl I ѕеt eyes оn Greg. Hе was stood on the fаr ѕіdе оf the gаrdеn, tаlkіng tо mу mоm and a fеw оf hеr frіеndѕ and relatives.

Carmen never used to like diary books and thought that they were stupid, reminding you of the reality you want to escape from. Tears fell down her cheeks as she was reading it. 'As you are reading this, you perhaps already know that I left or I am on my way to the airport now. My plane flies at 10 pm. I don't honestly know where I am going and why. But always remember that I'll forever support you. We'll talk daily, please don't cry. I miss you already. Happy birthday again.' As she finished, a sound of a car was heard. Carmen rushed to her bedroom's window and stared outside. It was Liam!

He even grew to enjoy working with them, as did his people. Seeing that he had time to kill as everyone waited for Ourelia and Matthew to die, Greg had a look around their lab to see what other toys they had. When he was done browsing through the shelves and books, he started looking at random things - the clock, the switches, etc. Then, his eyes stopped at the bin, where he saw crumpled waste papers. Since he had nothing better to do, he dug into their trash and emptied the bin onto the table. He carefully avoided the broken glass pieces as his fingers extracted the papers, which he assumed would have random equations and symbols written in illegible handwriting that he might not even under

“I’m not afraid of the trial. This way, I can get my inner wolf faster.” “When I grow up and have my inner wolf, I’ll make it protect you, Mommy.” Tears soaked her pillow. It dried, then got wet again, over and over. I wished the Moon Goddess had taken me instead of my Lena. Dawn came. Carlson never came home last night. Lena’s funeral was set for 9 AM. I dragged myself out of bed, too drained to drive, and had the driver take me to the church. On the way, Carlson called.

“I handled that case myself. Jane was just a kid back then—terrified and bruised head to toe. I still feel awful every time I think of it. We believe this was premeditated murder. That’s your wife’s diary. Read it for yourself.” Even I froze when I saw that diary. I’d written it when I first learned I was pregnant. I had poured everything into it—every kick, every heartbeat, and every baby name I considered. I even wrote about how I still hoped Craig would fall in love with me again. Every word hit like a knife to the heart. Craig stared at the pages, as if he’d forgotten how to read. He went through it again and again. Finally, he said, his voice trembling, “Officer, I need to see Izzy.”

Letting out a deep sigh, he leaned back into the sofa, relaxing into it as he stared at her. "Of course I was. Who wouldn't?" He asked rhetorically and chuckled. He continued. "It was the worst kind of pain I had ever felt back then. I couldn't even believe it, it felt like an impossible dream." Vicky felt something inside her break, she remembered the day she had left with Matthew Lee, she couldn't stop crying for days. She kept thinking about Romeo, regretting her decision every single day. Romeo smiled. "But, that was years ago, it took quite some time, true, but I've healed completely, it's like the scar was never there."

I wasn't brave; I was just a man trying to outrun a landslide. Walking into Greg’s house felt like walking into a trap. I found him in his study. The room was dark, lit only by a single lamp on the desk and the dying embers in the fireplace. He was standing by the window, his back to me, holding a glass of scotch. I sat. My knees felt like they were made of water. "Sir, I know we started on the wrong foot. I love Kassy. I want to make this right." "Do you?" Greg finally turned. He didn't look angry. He looked... disgusted. "You want to talk about 'right'? You want to talk about the 'truth'?"

Or, it may be something that I can work with him on, to get him to accept just like when it happened with Asher and Dan, and maybe even enjoy, but I chose my diary instead of confessing to my husband. It was locked down, the boys and I were on a little break and the only cock I had in my hot pussy was David, my husband. I wanted to explore, but I couldn’t since I'd vowed to the boys that I belonged to them alone. Without the boys, I turned to my diary to pen down how I met my husband.

Adam closed the diary slowly, his thumb still pressed between the pages as if he hadn’t fully decided whether to let the story go. For a moment, he just sat there, staring at the worn cover. “Damn, Mark…” he muttered under his breath. He leaned back in his chair, exhaling through his nose, not shocked exactly but unsettled in a way that lingered. This wasn’t just some wild fantasy written for effect. It read as something lived. Something processed after the fact. And that made it heavier.

For a moment, I forgot about the pain that had taken over my body. My hands trembled as I pulled a small notebook from my dress pocket. With a broad smile, I crossed off the first request. One item completed. Ninety-nine left. The smile on my face disappeared the moment I saw Jessy walk into the kitchen. "Dylan was probably just pitying you," Jessy remarked. I quickly shoved the notebook back into my pocket before she could see it. She smirked, crossing her arms over her chest. Her gaze swept across the dining table before settling on Dylan's empty plate.