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There was the awareness that he could have just as well stayed with the Ingalls, to see how it all worked out. But he had actually had his fill and it was time to proceed, possibly mosey down to St. Louis, New Orleans, or Arizona. Strongly he felt that getting back home in 2000 was a no-go. It wasn't going to occur. He was still mystified as to how the Device wound up in his noggin' anyhow! There was nought to deal but do with it, possibly find some of his old relatives, find his great-great-great grandmother when she was hot and young and score with her! That 'd mess up the timeline for sure! He understood his location 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 smart to be leery and cautious and on guard-- Indians were still magnificent unsettled and outlaws wandered the wildlands, too.
A mountain course took him up into some rough nation, he spent 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 figured out that in the future he would simply order one from a restaurant. Fishing was better and he nailed one deer. Living in the rough was alright, he did miss the Ingalls' hospitality, Walnut Grove as a whole. When the first snows began to fall his ideas rested entirely on the Ingalls. A nice warm fire, a bed, hot soup, cornbread, fresh milk. His own grub was getting sporadic, the weather condition turning on him the greater he went, but he wanted to get up and over the mountain ridge and down into brand-new area he presumed would be among the Dakotas, or perhaps Iowa, maybe even Nebraska, he wasn't sure. Quickly the days got as cold as the nights. His horse was not approving of the weather condition change or the persistence of continuing the useless experience. August needed to agree-- he was getting nowhere quick. The mountain course appeared to wind on and on and on forever. So he struck off on another course that supposedly led downward. Now he was totally lost. Another week passed, he ran afoul of a one pissed off territorial badger, chased after for miles by an even pissed off bear. He fell versus a rock and bruised some ribs, clunked his head and understood that he had a concussion.
Come the beginning of his 3rd week out from Walnut Grove his horse he had actually concerned call Tonto started going crazy. Raising up some and acting very wacky. August was not amused and ended up being very cautious. He wished his internal Device had some sort of ability to see objects he himself could not see, or at least spot them, or something. He was at length able to relax the horse down, August strained to listen and identify for himself what had actually startled Tonto. He figured either a snake or Indians. Either one he was not cool with. Both were fatal, vicious, and deadly. He wanted no part of either one of them. After backing his horse up a bit and securing him to a bush August slinked off into the rough, lurking, listening and pausing . In one hand he bared a Colt revolver, the other hand a Bowie knife. He had a Springfield rifle with the horse.
There was absolutely nothing to hear however bugs buzzing. Nothing stirred. August made a few more stalwart prowlings and finally came across a guy. Setting prone upon the ground with a huge bloodstain on his backside. He didn't have any boots on, either. Flies were already swarming and so August assumed 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. But barely. He had actually been shot in the chest and had actually lost a lot of blood. He wasn't going to be alive for quite longer, August had no other way of reaching any physician. The boy's ass muscles flexed as he aimed NOT to pump into his cousin's mouth. Arlene retched, gagged, choked, and almost vomited as she slurped on the two dicks, the balls and also licked up Mark's crack. Arlene then had to go back to the table and lay on it with her legs opened wide, hands to her side. Mark then had to go to her, on his knees, and lick her. Compliance was not exactly complied to quickly, the two teenagers did their best to stall and carry on-- requiring Dakota to once more get a holt of Adam's young head and wrench him upwards ... then in a flash the lad's wool trousers were down and he was bent over Dakota's knee, the trap door of the long underwear the kid wore was ripped down and the barrel of the six-shooter packed into the lad's hole. Absolutely nothing was said. Absolutely nothing required stating, Mark went to his knees, parted his cousin's cunny lips and proceeded in noshing. Dakota worked the barrel of the weapon deeper into the young kid's anus, sodomizing him nicely. His other hand he hung on to the lad's hair, holding it up tightly, requiring him to view as cousin Mark installed Arlene and entered her. BASING ON Mark's back Dakota took his turn and fucking young Arlene. He squeezed her nipples, nipped and bit them, creamed deeply into her pussy and jammed the barrel of the revolver up into her well deflowered fucked cunny, worked it around a bit and after that made her suck on the barrel.
Arlene was ruthlessly wrenched over and spanked hard, Mark had to come and position himself on the table and insert his cock into her mouth. The ordeal was extraordinary. If he weren't so ruthless, Dakota was August's kind of male. With the six-shooter, Arlene was promptly odorized. She was more sodomized with Dakota's dick. He slammed her deeply and non-stop till he could go no more. There was nothing but still silence in the shack, only the crackling fire in the fireplace and the slapping balls against Arlene's ass made the only noise. When done, Dakota wrenched Mark up from the floor and pushed his face into Arlene's tormented ass-- Lick it clean! Dakota sneered. When Mark fought back to the horrible job of licking Arlene's orgasm loaded asshole, Dakota then just wrench the lad into a brand-new position-- Either you fuckin' lick HER hole clean-- he mocked and shoved his gangly ultra-funky dick up against the boy's face-- Or you SUCK my cock!
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