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There was the realization that he could have just as well stuck with the Ingalls, to see how everything exercised after all. He had actually had his fill and it was time to move on, possibly 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 take place. He was still mystified regarding how the Device ended up in his noggin' anyhow! There was nought to deal but do with it, perhaps find some of his old relatives, find his great-great-great granny when she was young and hot and score with her! That 'd mess up the timeline for sure! He knew his geography fairly 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 wary and wary and on guard-- Indians were still mighty uncertain and outlaws wandered 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 assisted himself to some fresh steak. It was a little gross and he figured out that in the future he would just purchase one from a restaurant. 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 condition turning on him the higher he went, however he desired to get up and over the mountain ridge and down into new area he assumed would be one of the Dakotas, or potentially Iowa, possibly even Nebraska, he wasn't sure. Quickly the days got as cold as the nights. His horse was not approving of the weather change or the insistence of continuing the futile experience. August needed to concur-- he was getting nowhere fast. The mountain course appeared to wind on and on and on permanently. He struck off on another course that supposedly led downward. Now he was totally lost. Another week went by, he contravened of a one pissed off territorial badger, chased 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 started going nuts. Rearing up some and acting extremely wacky. August was not entertained and ended up being extremely careful. He wished his internal Device had some sort of ability to see things he himself could not see, or a minimum of identify them, or something. He was at length able to calm the horse down, August strained to detect and listen for himself what had spooked Tonto. He figured either a snake or Indians. Either one he was not cool with. Both were lethal, vicious, and lethal. He desired 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, 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 nothing to hear but bugs buzzing. Absolutely nothing stirred. August made a couple of more stalwart prowlings and finally came upon a man. Laying down vulnerable upon the ground with a big bloodstain on his behind. He didn't have any boots on, either. Flies were already swarming therefore August assumed that the man had been dead there for a long time. Thoroughly August took out of the rough and approximately where the man lay. To his surprise, the man was still actually alive. Hardly. He had actually been shot in the chest and had actually lost a great deal of blood. He wasn't going to live for very much longer, August had no other way of reaching any doctor. The boy's ass muscles bent as he strove 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 as well licked up Mark's fracture. Arlene then had to return 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 finest 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 pants were down and he was bent over Dakota's knee, the trap door of the long underwear the young boy used was ripped down and the barrel of the six-shooter packed into the lad's hole. Nothing was stated. Nothing required 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 rectum, sodomizing him well. His other hand he held on to the lad's hair, holding it up tightly, forcing him to view as cousin Mark mounted Arlene and entered her. STANDING 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 then made her suck on the barrel.

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 experience was extraordinary. If he weren't so callous, Dakota was August's kind of guy. She was additional sodomized with Dakota's cock. There was nothing however 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 pressed his face into Arlene's tormented ass-- Lick it clean! Dakota sneered. When Mark resisted to the horrible task of licking Arlene's orgasm loaded 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 young boy's face-- Or you SUCK my dick!

 

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