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There was the awareness that he could have simply as well remained with the Ingalls, to see how it all worked out. But he had had his fill and it was time to move on, 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 happen. He was still mystified regarding how the Device ended up in his noggin' anyways! There was nought to do but deal with it, possibly locate a few of his old loved ones, find 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 location fairly 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 cautious and hesitant and on guard-- Indians were still mighty unclear and outlaws strolled the wildlands, too.
A mountain path took him up into some rough nation, he spent a week just meandering around, discovering a few roaming livestock he helped himself to some fresh steak. It was a little gross and he identified that in the future he would just purchase one from a dining establishment. Fishing was much better and he nailed one deer. Living in the rough was alright, he did miss the Ingalls' hospitality, Walnut Grove as a entire. His own grub was getting sparse, the weather turning on him the greater he went, however he wanted to get up and over the mountain ridge and down into new area he assumed would be one of the Dakotas, or potentially Iowa, maybe even Nebraska, he wasn't sure. Quickly the days got as cold as the nights. His horse was not authorizing of the weather condition change or the persistence of continuing the useless experience. August needed to agree-- he was getting nowhere fast. The mountain course appeared to wind on and on and on forever. So he struck off on another path that supposedly led downward. Now he was completely 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 knew that he had a concussion.
Come the beginning of his 3rd week out from Walnut Grove his horse he had pertained to call Tonto began going crazy. Raising up some and acting extremely goofy. August was not amused and ended up being extremely careful. He wanted his internal Device had some sort of capability to see objects he himself might not see, or a minimum of find them, or something. He was at length able to calm the horse down, August strained to spot and listen for himself what had actually alarmed Tonto. He wanted no part of either one of them. After backing his horse up a bit and protecting him to a bush August slipped off into the rough, prowling, listening and stopping briefly . 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 pests buzzing. Nothing stirred. August made a few more stalwart prowlings and lastly came across a male. Setting vulnerable upon the ground with a substantial bloodstain on his backside. He didn't have any boots on, either. Flies were currently swarming therefore August presumed that the man had been dead there for a long time. Thoroughly August took out of the rough and up to where the man lay. To his surprise, the man was still actually 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 quite longer, August had no chance of reaching any physician. The kid's ass muscles flexed as he strove NOT to pump into his cousin's mouth. Arlene retched, gagged, choked, and almost threw up as she slurped on the two cocks, the balls and as well licked up Mark's crack. Arlene then needed to go back to the table and lay on it with her legs widened, hands to her side. Mark then needed to go to her, on his knees, and lick her. Compliance was not exactly complied to quickly, the two teens did their best to carry and stall on-- requiring 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 stuffed into the lad's hole. Absolutely nothing was said. Absolutely nothing needed saying, Mark went to his knees, parted his cousin's cunny lips and proceeded in noshing. Dakota worked the barrel of the gun deeper into the young kid's rectum, 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 insert his dick into her mouth. The ordeal was extraordinary. If he weren't so ruthless, Dakota was August's kind of guy. With the six-shooter, Arlene was promptly odorized. She was further sodomized with Dakota's cock. He knocked her deeply and relentlessly till he might go no more. There was nothing but still silence in the shack, only 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 fought back to the revolting task 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 pushed his gangly ultra-funky dick up against the kid's face-- Or you SUCK my cock!
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