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Haylee , 45y
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There was the realization that he could have just as well remained with the Ingalls, to see how it all worked out. However he had actually had his fill and it was time to proceed, 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 take place. He understood his geography 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 wise to be careful and hesitant and on guard-- Indians were still mighty unsettled and outlaws strolled the wildlands, too.

A mountain path took him up into some rough nation, he spent a week simply meandering around, discovering a few roaming livestock he helped himself to some fresh steak. It was a little gross and he figured out that in the future he would simply order one from a restaurant. Fishing was much 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 sporadic, the weather turning on him the greater he went, but he wanted to get up and over the mountain ridge and down into brand-new territory he presumed would be one of the Dakotas, or perhaps Iowa, possibly even Nebraska, he wasn't sure. His horse was not approving of the weather change or the insistence of continuing the useless adventure. August had to concur-- he was getting no place fast. Another week went by, he ran afoul of a one pissed off territorial badger, chased for miles by an even pissed off bear.

August was not amused and became very careful. He wished his internal Device had some sort of ability to see items he himself might not see, or at least identify them, or something. He was at length able to calm the horse down, August strained to listen and detect for himself what had alarmed Tonto. He figured either a snake or Indians. Either one he was not cool with. Both were deadly, vicious, and deadly. He desired 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, 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.

August made a couple of more stalwart prowlings and finally came upon a male. Flies were currently swarming and so August assumed that the man had actually been dead there for some time. He wasn't going to be alive for extremely much longer, August had no method of reaching any medical professional. Compliance was not precisely complied to quickly, the two teenagers did their finest to carry and stall 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 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 boy's rectum, sodomizing him nicely. His other hand he held on to the lad's hair, holding it up firmly, requiring him to see as cousin Mark installed 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 after that made her suck on the barrel.

Arlene was ruthlessly wrenched over and spanked hard, Mark had to come and position himself on the table and place his cock into her mouth. The experience was amazing. If he weren't so callous, Dakota was August's kind of man. She was additional sodomized with Dakota's dick. There was nothing but still silence in the shack, just 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 clean! Dakota sneered. When Mark fought back to the disgusting task of licking Arlene's orgasm laden asshole, Dakota then simply wrench the lad into a brand-new position-- Either you fuckin' lick HER hole clean-- he jeered and shoved his gangly ultra-funky dick up against the kid's face-- Or you SUCK my dick!

 

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