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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 after all. However he had had his fill and it was time to carry on, maybe mosey down to St. Louis, New Orleans, or Arizona. Highly he felt that getting back home in 2000 was a no-go. It wasn't going to occur. He understood his geography fairly well, the location of 2000, the location of 1875 he was a little fuzzy on. And beings that it WAS 1875, Old West, it was smart to be careful and wary 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 invested a week just meandering around, finding a couple of stray livestock he helped himself to some fresh steak. It was a little gross and he identified that in the future he would simply order one from a restaurant. Fishing was better and he nailed one deer. Residing in the rough was alright, he did miss out on the Ingalls' hospitality, Walnut Grove as a whole, also. When the first snows started to fall his thoughts rested solely on the Ingalls. A nice warm fire, a bed, hot soup, cornbread, fresh milk. His own grub was getting sparse, the weather turning on him the greater he went, but he wished to get up and over the mountain ridge and down into new territory he assumed 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 futile adventure. August had to agree-- he was getting nowhere quick. Another week went by, he ran afoul of a one pissed off territorial badger, chased for miles by an even pissed off bear.
Come the start of his 3rd week out from Walnut Grove his horse he had actually pertained to call Tonto started flipping out. Rearing up some and acting very silly. August was not entertained and became very wary. He wished his internal Device had some sort of ability to see items he himself could not see, or a minimum of discover them, or something. He was at length able to calm the horse down, August strained to listen and identify for himself what had scared Tonto. He figured either a snake or Indians. Either one he was not cool with. Both were deadly, vicious, and lethal. He wanted no part of either among them. After backing his horse up a bit and securing him to a bush August slipped off into the rough, prowling, 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.
August made a few more stalwart prowlings and finally came upon a male. Flies were already swarming and so August assumed that the male had actually been dead there for some time. He wasn't going to be alive for really much longer, August had no way of reaching any doctor. Compliance was not exactly complied to quickly, the two teens did their finest to stall and carry on-- forcing Dakota to 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 stuffed into the lad's hole. Nothing was stated. 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 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 experience was extraordinary. If he weren't so ruthless, Dakota was August's kind of guy. With the six-shooter, Arlene was without delay odorized. She was more sodomized with Dakota's cock. He knocked her deeply and relentlessly until 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 sound. When done, Dakota wrenched Mark up from the floor and pressed his face into Arlene's tormented ass-- Lick it tidy! Dakota sneered. When Mark resisted to the revolting job of licking Arlene's cum packed asshole, Dakota then simply wrench the lad into a new position-- Either you fuckin' lick HER hole clean-- he mocked and shoved his gangly ultra-funky cock up against the boy's face-- Or you SUCK my cock!
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