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There was the realization that he might have just as well stuck with the Ingalls, to see how it all worked out after all. He had actually had his fill and it was time to move on, maybe mosey down to St. Louis, New Orleans, or Arizona. Strongly he felt that returning home in 2000 was a no-go. It wasn't going to occur. He was still mystified regarding how the Device ended up in his noggin' anyhow! There was nought to deal but do with it, maybe locate some of his old relatives, discover his great-great-great grandmother when she was young and hot and score with her! That 'd screw up the timeline for sure! He knew his geography relatively well, the location of 2000, the geography of 1875 he was a little fuzzy on. And beings that it WAS 1875, Old West, it was a good idea to be leery and careful and on guard-- Indians were still magnificent uncertain and bandits wandered the wildlands, too.
A mountain course took him up into some rough country, he invested a week simply meandering around, finding a couple of roaming cattle he helped himself to some fresh steak. It was a little gross and he determined that in the future he would simply order one from a restaurant. Fishing was much better and he nailed one deer. Living in the rough was alright, he did miss out on the Ingalls' hospitality, Walnut Grove as a entire. When the first snows began to fall his thoughts rested exclusively on the Ingalls. A nice warm fire, a bed, hot soup, cornbread, fresh milk. His own grub was getting sparse, the weather switching on him the greater he went, however he wished to get up and over the mountain ridge and down into new area he assumed would be one of the Dakotas, or possibly Iowa, maybe even Nebraska, he wasn't sure. His horse was not approving of the weather condition change or the insistence of continuing the useless experience. August had to concur-- he was getting nowhere quickly. Another week went by, he ran afoul of a one pissed off territorial badger, chased for miles by an even pissed off bear.
August was not entertained and ended up being very careful. He wished his internal Device had some sort of ability to see things he himself could not see, or at least identify them, or something. He was at length able to calm the horse down, August strained to discover and listen for himself what had scared Tonto. He figured either a snake or Indians. Either one he was not cool with. Both were fatal, vicious, and fatal. He wanted no part of either among them. After backing his horse up a bit and protecting him to a bush August slinked off into the rough, lurking, pausing and listening . In one hand he bared a Colt revolver, the other hand a Bowie knife. He had a Springfield rifle with the horse.
There was nothing to hear however insects buzzing. Absolutely nothing stirred. August made a few more stalwart prowlings and finally came upon a male. Putting down vulnerable upon the ground with a substantial bloodstain on his behind. He didn't have any boots on, either. Flies were already swarming and so August presumed that the man had actually been dead there for some time. Thoroughly August took out of the rough and as much as where the man lay. To his surprise, the man was still actually alive. Hardly. He had been shot in the chest and had actually lost a lot of blood. He wasn't going to live for very much longer, August had no chance of reaching any physician. The kid's ass muscles flexed as he aimed NOT to pump into his cousin's mouth. Arlene retched, gagged, choked, and nearly vomited as she slurped on the two cocks, the balls and also licked up Mark's crack. Arlene then needed to go back to the table and lay on it with her legs opened wide, hands to her side. Mark then needed to go to her, on his knees, and lick her. Compliance was not precisely complied to quickly, the two teens did their finest to bring and stall on-- requiring Dakota to once again get a holt of Adam's young head and wrench him upwards ... then in a flash the lad's wool pants were down and he was bent over Dakota's knee, the trap door of the long underwear the kid used was ripped down and the barrel of the six-shooter packed into the lad's hole. Absolutely nothing was said. Nothing needed stating, Mark went to his knees, parted his cousin's cunny lips and continued in noshing. Dakota worked the barrel of the weapon deeper into the young kid's anus, sodomizing him perfectly. STANDING on Mark's back Dakota took his turn and fucking young Arlene.
Arlene was ruthlessly wrenched over and spanked hard, Mark needed to come and place himself on the table and place his cock into her mouth. The ordeal was unbelievable. If he weren't so ruthless, Dakota was August's kind of male. She was further sodomized with Dakota's cock. There was nothing however still silence in the shack, just the crackling fire in the slapping and the fireplace balls against Arlene's ass made the only sound. When done, Dakota wrenched Mark up from the floor and pressed his face into Arlene's tormented ass-- Lick it clean! Dakota sneered. When Mark resisted to the disgusting task of licking Arlene's orgasm laden asshole, Dakota then just wrench the lad into a brand-new position-- Either you fuckin' lick HER hole clean-- he jeered and shoved his gangly ultra-funky dick up against the kid's face-- Or you SUCK my dick!
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