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There was the realization that he might have just as well stuck with the Ingalls, to see how everything worked out after all. But he had actually had his fill and it was time to carry on, possibly mosey down to St. Louis, New Orleans, or Arizona. Strongly he felt that returning home in 2000 was a no-go. It wasn't going to take place. He was still mystified as to how the Device wound up in his noggin' anyways! There was nought to do however deal with it, maybe locate a few of his old family members, find his great-great-great grandmother when she was young and hot and rating with her! That 'd screw up the timeline for sure! He understood 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 a good idea to be leery and cautious and on guard-- Indians were still magnificent uncertain and bandits roamed the wildlands, too.

A mountain path took him up into some rough country, he spent a week simply meandering around, finding a few roaming cattle he helped himself to some fresh steak. It was a little gross and he determined 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. When the first snows began to fall his ideas rested exclusively on the Ingalls. A nice warm fire, a bed, hot soup, cornbread, fresh milk. His own grub was getting sparse, the weather condition turning 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 potentially Iowa, perhaps even Nebraska, he wasn't sure. His horse was not authorizing of the weather condition change or the persistence of continuing the useless adventure. August had to agree-- he was getting nowhere fast. 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 beginning of his 3rd week out from Walnut Grove his horse he had actually pertained to call Tonto began going crazy. Raising up some and acting extremely goofy. August was not entertained and became really cautious. He wanted his internal Device had some sort of ability to see items he himself might not see, or at least discover them, or something. He was at length able to soothe the horse down, August strained to discover and listen for himself what had alarmed Tonto. He figured either a snake or Indians. Either one he was not cool with. Both were lethal, vicious, and fatal. He wanted no part of either one of them. After backing his horse up a bit and securing him to a bush August slipped off into the rough, prowling, listening and stopping briefly . 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 man. Flies were currently swarming and so August presumed that the male had actually been dead there for some time. He wasn't going to be alive for very much longer, August had no way of reaching any medical professional. Compliance was not precisely complied to quickly, the two teenagers did their finest to stall and carry on-- forcing Dakota to 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 boy wore was ripped down and the barrel of the six-shooter packed into the lad's hole. Nothing was stated. Nothing needed stating, Mark went to his knees, parted his cousin's cunny lips and continued in noshing. Dakota worked the barrel of the gun deeper into the young kid's rectum, sodomizing him well. His other hand he held on to the lad's hair, holding it up securely, forcing him to view as cousin Mark installed Arlene and entered her. BASING 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 position himself on the table and insert his dick into her mouth. The ordeal was extraordinary. Dakota was August's kind of male if he weren't so callous. She was further sodomized with Dakota's dick. There was absolutely nothing however still silence in the shack, just the crackling fire in the slapping and the fireplace balls versus Arlene's ass made the only noise. 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 cum loaded asshole, Dakota then simply wrench the lad into a new position-- Either you fuckin' lick HER hole clean-- he jeered and shoved his gangly ultra-funky cock up against the kid's face-- Or you SUCK my cock!

 

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