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There was the realization that he might have just as well stayed with the Ingalls, to see how it all worked out. He had had his fill and it was time to move on, maybe mosey down to St. Louis, New Orleans, or Arizona. Strongly he felt that getting back home in 2000 was a no-go. It wasn't going to happen. He knew his geography relatively 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 wise to be hesitant and wary and on guard-- Indians were still magnificent unclear and outlaws strolled the wildlands, too.
A mountain course took him up into some rough nation, he spent a week simply meandering around, discovering a couple of stray cattle he assisted himself to some fresh steak. It was a little gross and he figured out that in the future he would just order one from a dining establishment. Fishing was better and he nailed one deer. Living in the rough was alright, he did miss the Ingalls' hospitality, Walnut Grove as a whole, as well. When the first snows started to fall his thoughts rested solely on the Ingalls. A great warm fire, a bed, hot soup, cornbread, fresh milk. His own grub was getting sporadic, the weather condition switching on him the greater he went, however he wished to get up and over the mountain ridge and down into new territory he presumed would be among the Dakotas, or possibly Iowa, perhaps even Nebraska, he wasn't sure. His horse was not approving of the weather modification or the insistence of continuing the useless adventure. August had to agree-- he was getting nowhere 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 cautious. He wished his internal Device had some sort of ability to see items he himself could not see, or at least find them, or something. He was at length able to calm the horse down, August strained to listen and discover for himself what had actually spooked 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 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 absolutely nothing to hear but insects buzzing. Absolutely nothing stirred. August made a couple of more stalwart prowlings and lastly encountered a man. Setting prone upon the ground with a huge bloodstain on his behind. He didn't have any boots on, either. Flies were already swarming therefore August assumed that the man had actually been dead there for a long time. Carefully August stole out of the rough and up to 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 great deal of blood. He wasn't going to live for quite longer, August had no other way of reaching any doctor. The young boy's ass muscles flexed as he aimed NOT to pump into his cousin's mouth. Arlene retched, gagged, choked, and nearly vomited as she slurped on the two dicks, 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 widened, hands to her side. Mark then had to go to her, on his knees, and lick her. Compliance was not precisely complied to rapidly, 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 kid used was ripped down and the barrel of the six-shooter packed 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 weapon 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 had to come and position himself on the table and place his dick into her mouth. The experience was unbelievable. If he weren't so ruthless, Dakota was August's kind of man. With the six-shooter, Arlene was promptly odorized. She was more sodomized with Dakota's cock. He slammed her deeply and non-stop up until he might 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 pushed his face into Arlene's tormented ass-- Lick it tidy! Dakota sneered. When Mark resisted to the horrible job of licking Arlene's cum packed asshole, Dakota then merely wrench the lad into a brand-new position-- Either you fuckin' lick HER hole clean-- he mocked and shoved his gangly ultra-funky dick up against the young boy's face-- Or you SUCK my cock!
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