We all fantasise over someone we can't have, whether is be someone at work, a neighbour or just someone we see on the way to work. Just sometimes, that fantasy becomes a reality.

There is this little inbuilt mechanism in most of us that stops us from wanting sex with members of our own family. There are good reasons genetically why that is a good thing but as everyone knows sometimes we do not follow the rules!

Of course this group of people we should not want to have sex with extends beyond family and, as it spreads out, it weakens. We really don't always get attracted to aunts, uncles, cousins, nephews, nieces, neighbours, children and often people at work. Now of course, we all know that there are people who DO desire sex with aunt, uncles, nephews, nieces, cousins, neighbours and also their own immediate family. That desire can be as strong for them, as it is not for others. Well the bad news to all of you, is that this is not an incest story. It does cover the ground of the "forbidden fruit." That is, desiring strongly to have sexual contact with someone you can't and probably shouldn't anyway.

Greg was a neighbour. Greg was absolutely stunningly beautiful, 6 feet tall, 25 years old, newly married, short reddish blonde hair, athletic build (but didn't really do much in the way of athletics), and one of my friends. The problem here was that I was 23, living with a girlfriend, 5 feet 9 inches tall, dark brown hair and not bad looking for my age. Greg was straight as they come and me, well I was sort of straight. If you call an active sex life with most of the guys at boarding school and many of the girls straight — then I'm straight. The thing is that though I love screwing women, I get really impatient. It takes so long so get into their pants and even then they often "get a headache" just as your cock is about to explode. Now I find that guys get erect and just do it!!!

We had a small bungalow in the North West of England. The town was semi-rural which meant that entertainment involved travelling and that usually meant no alcohol unless we could persuade someone to drive. Lisa, my girlfriend of 2 years was my age. She was fortunate to have a father who was wealthy and had bought her a house. I had met her at boarding school and though the fees were expensive my father, a lawyer, had just managed to afford them whereas Lisa's father could have probably bought the school.

Greg and Marion had been married for around 4 years and had saved to buy their little bungalow. They were trying hard for a first child. They were our next door neighbours and had quickly become friends of both Lisa and I. We had spent a lot of time together socially. Greg was a telecommunications electrician with a cable company and had a decent salary. I was training to be a pharmacist and was working at a hospital about 15 miles away.

I won't dwell too much on our cosy little social life but when I had the opportunity to see Greg in any stage of undress, I had to watch him. Of course I also had to be careful too. I had never actually seen his cock but all instances of seeing him in any erotic pose left a photographic imprint on my mind.

Such as:

• Working in his shorts in the garden and when he took a breather, seeing up his legs to the white liner covering his balls.

• See him in his tight jeans with the promise of a sizeable box between his legs

• Listening while he told me stories of his early sex life with Marion and how he could cum three times on the trot.

• Glancing over to his bathroom window and seeing his naked outline as he stepped out of the shower — the frosted glass making sure I could not make out anything more.

• Seeing him naked at his bedroom window with that little wisp of hair on his chest and knowing there was nothing below but being blocked by the window ledge from actually seeing his cock

• Catching him bend over to load his car or in the garden and catching sight of the waistband of his Calvin Klein white boxer briefs.

• Seeing his underwear out on the line to dry on wash day (how I wished I had the courage to steal a pair for my own secret wank sessions).

I presume by now you have the hang of my fantasy. In front of him, his wife and my girlfriend, I was one of the lads and his pal, while I secretly craved some sexual contact with him. Greg was straight, of that there was no doubt and I realised my fantasy was going to stay as that — a fantasy!

One day, Greg and Marion arrived at our door with the good news. She was pregnant and all his hard work and shagging had paid off. She was now going to have a baby. Marion immediately went into "mother mode." No alcohol, no late nights, room to be decorated, fewer nights out with the lads and the evening sessions of a meal and drink at our place turned into "afternoon tea" and home for bed at 9.00 pm.

Greg did not seem too happy and craved our rare nights out. He was constantly torn between "having another drink," and "... I'd better not as I'll need to get back home." On one of our nights out, he got completely smashed. We were sitting in a corner of our favourite of the three bars in town and he was slouched down in his chair. His jeans had ridden up and his balls were tantalisingly packed down his left leg and the shape of his cock could clearly be seen on top of them through the fabric.

"... three bloody months," He exclaimed. "That's how long." "She's turned into a bloody virgin."

I was wakened out of my trance with the word "virgin," and asked him to repeat. It seems that from the moment of the birth announcement, poor Greg had been without sex.

"Worse than that," He said, "She won't even let me have a wank." "Says it's disgusting." "Three bloody months," He repeated. "Never gone more than a week in the past."

I took him home and suffered a tirade from Marion for the state he was in.

It was about three weeks later that we heard the news that Marion had miscarried. They were both distraught and it took a few months more before they seemed to settle back to their former selves and started to visit us again. Marion was drinking more than I can remember and so was Greg. It was on one of their visits when he and I were sitting on an Autumn night in the garden in the dark when he told me it was now 7 months since he had had sex.

"My cock's going to shrivel up and die," He said. "I can't go and find a prostitute." "It's just not my way," He said. "I'm just so permanently horny." "You must know what it feels like." "How long were you at boys' boarding school before you went to the mixed one?"

"Three years," I said.

"So what did you do," He asked?

I tried to divert the conversation but the drink was now talking.

"Well you know what lads are like," I said?

"No," He replied.

"We just kept each other amused on the long Winter nights," I joked.

"You wanked other guys off," He said incredulously???

"Well we were young and horny," I replied as if to exonerate myself

"What did you do?"

"Not sure we should be discussing this," I said, a little worried as to how he might view me if he heard too much.

"What did you do," He repeated as though he hadn't heard a word.

"Well, we wanked together and sometimes each other." "We would suck each other, sometimes in twos or even three or four."

"Did you suck anyone off," He asked?

"Well yes, a couple of times," I lied as it was more like a couple of hundred times.

"Did you even get fucked in the ass," He said, moving the conversation up a notch."

"Some guys did it," I sidestepped.

"Did you ever get fucked in the ass," He repeated like a cracked gramophone record.