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There was the realization that he might have just as well remained with the Ingalls, to see how it all worked out. But he had actually had his fill and it was time to proceed, 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 was still mystified regarding how the Device wound up in his noggin' anyways! There was nought to deal however do with it, maybe locate some of his old loved ones, discover his great-great-great grandma when she was young and hot and rating with her! That 'd screw up the timeline for sure! He understood his location fairly well, the geography 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 wary and wary and on guard-- Indians were still mighty unclear and bandits strolled the wildlands, too.
A mountain path took him up into some rough country, he spent a week simply meandering around, finding a few stray cattle he assisted himself to some fresh steak. It was a little gross and he determined that in the future he would simply order one from a dining establishment. 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 sparse, the weather turning on him the higher he went, however he desired to get up and over the mountain ridge and down into new territory he presumed would be one of the Dakotas, or potentially Iowa, perhaps even Nebraska, he wasn't sure. Quickly the days got as cold as the nights. His horse was not approving of the weather modification or the persistence of continuing the futile adventure. August had to concur-- he was getting nowhere fast. The mountain path appeared to wind on and on and on permanently. So he struck off on another path that allegedly led downward. Now he was totally lost. Another week went by, he ran afoul of a one pissed off territorial badger, chased for miles by an even pissed off bear. He fell against a rock and bruised some ribs, clunked his head and knew that he had a concussion.
August was not amused and became very careful. He wished his internal Device had some sort of capability to see items he himself might not see, or at least spot them, or something. He was at length able to calm the horse down, August strained to listen and spot for himself what had startled Tonto. He desired no part of either one of them. After backing his horse up a bit and protecting him to a bush August slinked off into the rough, lurking, pausing 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 but bugs buzzing. Nothing stirred. August made a couple of more stalwart prowlings and finally came across a male. Putting down susceptible upon the ground with a big bloodstain on his behind. He didn't have any boots on, either. Flies were already swarming therefore August presumed that the man had actually been dead there for some time. Thoroughly August took out of the rough and approximately where the man lay. To his surprise, the man was still actually alive. However barely. He had actually been shot in the chest and had lost a lot of blood. He wasn't going to live for quite longer, August had no way of reaching any physician. The young boy's ass muscles bent 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 fracture. Arlene then had to return to the table and lay on it with her legs opened wide, hands to her side. Mark then needed 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 once again grab 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 used was ripped down and the barrel of the six-shooter crammed into the lad's hole. Nothing was stated. Absolutely nothing needed 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 boy's rectum, sodomizing him nicely. 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 dick into her mouth. The experience was incredible. If he weren't so callous, Dakota was August's kind of guy. She was further sodomized with Dakota's dick. There was absolutely nothing however still silence in the shack, only the crackling fire in the slapping and the fireplace 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 fought back to the revolting task of licking Arlene's orgasm laden asshole, Dakota then simply wrench the lad into a new position-- Either you fuckin' lick HER hole clean-- he mocked and pushed his gangly ultra-funky dick up against the boy's face-- Or you SUCK my cock!
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