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Brothels Aifft LL16

 

There was the awareness that he might have just as well stayed with the Ingalls, to see how all of it worked out after all. But he had had his fill and it was time to proceed, perhaps 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 as to how the Device wound up in his noggin' anyways! There was nought to deal however do with it, maybe locate a few of his old family members, discover his great-great-great granny when she was young and hot and score with her! That 'd screw up the timeline for sure! He knew his location relatively well, the geography of 2000, the location 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 unclear and outlaws wandered the wildlands, too.

A mountain course took him up into some rough nation, he spent a week just meandering around, discovering a couple of stray livestock he helped himself to some fresh steak. It was a little gross and he figured out that in the future he would simply buy one from a restaurant. Fishing was better and he nailed one deer. Living in the rough was alright, he did miss out on the Ingalls' hospitality, Walnut Grove as a whole. His own grub was getting sporadic, the weather condition turning on him the higher he went, but he wanted to get up and over the mountain ridge and down into brand-new area he presumed would be one of the Dakotas, or possibly Iowa, perhaps even Nebraska, he wasn't sure. His horse was not authorizing of the weather change or the insistence of continuing the useless adventure. August had to agree-- he was getting no place quickly. Another week went by, he ran afoul of a one pissed off territorial badger, gone after for miles by an even pissed off bear.

August was not entertained and became very careful. He wanted his internal Device had some sort of ability to see objects he himself might not see, or at least detect them, or something. He was at length able to soothe the horse down, August strained to detect and listen for himself what had actually startled Tonto. He desired 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, stopping briefly 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 bugs buzzing. Absolutely nothing stirred. August made a couple of more stalwart prowlings and lastly came upon a male. Putting down susceptible upon the ground with a huge bloodstain on his backside. He didn't have any boots on, either. Flies were currently swarming therefore August assumed that the man had actually been dead there for a long time. Thoroughly August stole out of the rough and up to where the man lay. To his surprise, the man was still really alive. Barely. He had actually been shot in the chest and had actually lost a great deal of blood. He wasn't going to be alive for very much longer, August had no way of reaching any medical professional. The kid's ass muscles flexed as he strove NOT to pump into his cousin's mouth. Arlene retched, gagged, choked, and almost vomited as she slurped on the two cocks, the balls and too licked up Mark's fracture. 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 precisely complied to quickly, the two teens did their best to bring and stall on-- forcing Dakota to again grab 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 boy used was ripped down and the barrel of the six-shooter packed into the lad's hole. Absolutely nothing was said. Nothing required saying, Mark went to his knees, parted his cousin's cunny lips and continued in noshing. Dakota worked the barrel of the gun deeper into the young kid's anus, sodomizing him well. 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 position himself on the table and insert his cock into her mouth. The ordeal was unbelievable. If he weren't so callous, Dakota was August's kind of man. With the six-shooter, Arlene was quickly odorized. She was further sodomized with Dakota's cock. He slammed her deeply and relentlessly until he could go no more. There was nothing but still silence in the shack, just the crackling fire in the fireplace and the slapping balls against Arlene's ass made the only sound. 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 resisted to the disgusting job of licking Arlene's orgasm laden asshole, Dakota then simply wrench the lad into a new position-- Either you fuckin' lick HER hole tidy-- he mocked and pushed his gangly ultra-funky dick up against the kid's face-- Or you SUCK my cock!

 

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