The screaming started again.
However, this time they were not exaltations of passion. This time they were cries of surprise, pain and guilt. Eve screamed when she realized she had been fucked by a real dick and that she had just had nonconsensual sex with her brother-in-law.
Ana screamed in pain as I ran her over. I crashed into her kneeling body. My swinging dick, covered with my jism and her sister's vaginal secretions, slapped her across the face. Her cry was cut short when my messy member plopped into her mouth as we tumbled into the living room.
Christy yelled because the other women were shrieking. And because of her guilt. It had been her idea for me to screw her mother.
I cried out because my life flashed before my eyes. I had been caught with my cock in a place it shouldn't have been. One or both sisters were sure to kill me.
Just as suddenly, everyone was quiet.
My first glance was to my wife. It didn't appear that my contact with her had done any damage. She had an odd look on her face as she licked her lips and appeared to be concentrating on something in her mouth. Her little breasts looked adorable. Her nipples were extended and as hard as I've ever seen them. The lower half of her black bush was drenched with moisture as if she had just emerged from a bath.
Eve had rolled onto her side. Her set of boobs were almost identical to her sister's. The light brown nipples were very erect. Eve was looking at Christy, then me and then Ana trying to figure out what was going on.
Christy stood at the end of the bed. Her young body was without some of the womanly curves of the older ladies, but she had the best tits in the house. They were huge and round. Her firm bosom had the largest, thickest nipples too. A look of panic was in her eyes.
Eve looked at me and asked, "What are you doing here?"
I looked at my wife and asked, "What are you doing here?"
The standout off didn't last long. My wife slapped me. Christy quickly jumped to my defense and said,
"It's all my fault. I seduced him and then made him do Mom."
The sisters looked at her, demanding more of an explanation. Then they looked at me with disgust as if they were contemplating the method of my execution.
Diplomatically I said,
"It is all my fault. Why don't we have a cup on coffee in the kitchen and I'll tell you everything.