Dying For a Shag

At least by now the kids had calmed down and the house was clean. When I came home from work there was dinner on the table for me and I got to watch what I wanted on the box while they all kept out of my way. Juliet was as timid as a mouse. I could see she was terrified of me. She would nigh on melt into the wall every time she passed me in the hallway or on the staircase. She was pissing herself, bracing herself for the moment that would lose my rag and lash out. Carol and Patrick didn't have much sympathy for her either. Those two had been tearing into her, I know, telling her that she was the reason their mum had left home. Yeah, Juliet was quite at a loss without Val at her side to stand up for her. I had that kid just where I wanted her to be, right under my thumb. But more yet lay in store for our Juliet. The thoughts and feelings had been building up for some time. As the months rolled by and there was no word from Val I started to feel bitter and angry. I started to imagine that Val was with some other bloke, because that would be just like her. I couldn't bear the thought of some other fellow screwing her. Fuck! And, there I was dying for a shag. All I was making do with were some old copies of Playboy and me hand; beating off all alone in my bedroom like some sad spotty teenager. Juliet had turned fourteen, and she wasn't a bad looker. In fact, she was quite pretty. She had nice tits on her, and a nice arse too. One night I came back from the pub, I was feeling horny and I thought, "Well, why not? She isn't my kid, so it isn't incest. It's the least she owes me. I feed her, clothe her, house her. What has she ever given me? So now's pay back time."