"I'm going to bed," Joan said with a sharp edge to her voice as she stood up, throwing the newspaper on the couch next to her husband. Shit, she thought as she walked down the stairs from the family room, it looked like he had a partial erection; there was definitely a lump in his crotch. Well, he'd better not bring that to bed with him, she vowed. She'd be damned if she was going to let him fuck her with a hardon he got looking up their daughter's skirt.

Joan and Phil Jackson had been married for fifteen years, and up until six months ago, happily so. Then Phil seemed to get fixated on his rapidly maturing daughter, and Joan was becoming more and more frustrated by it. Joan just couldn't understand why someone so talented and so capable, like Phil, could go so completely stupid over something so common as a teenage girl; shit the malls of America were full of them. Joan was certain that Elizabeth was totally unaware of her Daddy's fixation. Joan was sure that if Phil ever really ran his hand up her skirt or shoved it down the front of her blouse Elizabeth would run screaming into the street. And besides she rationalized, what would he find if he did that? The exact same thing Joan had up her skirt or in her blouse - and a damn site bigger and better too, she thought angrily as she pulled down the bedspread on their bed with a sharp jerk.

Over the next two weeks things stayed the same, Joan watched in frustration and anger as her husband followed their daughter around like some hound dog following a bitch in heat. He had tried to have sex with Joan a couple of times but she had made it pretty clear that she wasn't in the mood. The rotten son-of-a-bitch Joan thought, he gets himself horny ogling his daughter and then wants me to let him use my body as the receptacle for his lust for her - hell, if I did let him fuck me he would probably be fantasizing that I was Elizabeth. At the same time she knew denying him sex was just making him hornier. Joan was sure that if she said anything to Phil about him lusting after Elizabeth he would deny it all and just get more sneaky in his lusting; she was at her wit's end, they couldn't go on like this.

Finally, reluctantly, she called Jackie, her older sister. Jackie and her husband Don lived about two hundred miles north of them in Oregon with their two daughters Heather and Amber. Jackie and Joan had never been particularly close, there was a five years age difference between them but really it was as if they had grown up in separate families. Joan had been nine when their father died in a car crash and Jackie, who was fifteen, seemed not to get over it, she became withdrawn and stayed to herself. Doris, their mother, had tried to get the girls to do more together before she died five years ago, but they remained distant towards each other. Even now, they only visited once or twice a year, Elizabeth had never really gotten to know her cousins, and Phil wasn't all that interested in being around Don, Jackie's husband. Don was the hunting and fishing type and Phil's idea of an outdoors adventure was cleaning the pool. Still, Joan thought, Jackie was her only living relative and she had to talk to someone before she either divorced the silly bastard or killed him. ......(cont)