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Brothels Ashley CT15

 

There was the awareness that he could 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, possibly mosey down to St. Louis, New Orleans, or Arizona. Highly he felt that returning home in 2000 was a no-go. It wasn't going to occur. He was still mystified regarding how the Device ended up in his noggin' anyways! There was nought to do however deal with it, maybe find some of his old relatives, find his great-great-great grandma when she was young and hot and score with her! That 'd screw up the timeline for sure! He knew his location relatively well, the geography 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 wary and leery and on guard-- Indians were still mighty unclear and outlaws wandered the wildlands, too.

A mountain path took him up into some rough nation, he spent a week just meandering around, finding a few stray cattle he helped himself to some fresh steak. It was a little gross and he determined 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. When the very 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 switching on him the higher he went, however he wanted to get up and over the mountain ridge and down into new area he assumed would be among the Dakotas, or perhaps Iowa, perhaps even Nebraska, he wasn't sure. His horse was not authorizing of the weather modification or the insistence of continuing the useless adventure. August had to concur-- he was getting nowhere quickly. Another week went by, he ran afoul of a one pissed off territorial badger, chased after for miles by an even pissed off bear.

Come the beginning of his 3rd week out from Walnut Grove his horse he had pertained to call Tonto began freaking out. Rearing up some and acting really wacky. August was not amused and became very wary. 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 relax the horse down, August strained to listen and identify for himself what had actually alarmed Tonto. He wanted 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, prowling, 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 pests buzzing. Nothing stirred. August made a couple of more stalwart prowlings and finally encountered a guy. Setting prone upon the ground with a huge bloodstain on his backside. He didn't have any boots on, either. Flies were already swarming and so August assumed that the man had 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. Hardly. He had 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 flexed as he strove 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 as well licked up Mark's crack. Arlene then had to go back 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 teenagers did their finest to stall and carry on-- forcing Dakota to once more 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 used was ripped down and the barrel of the six-shooter packed into the lad's hole. Absolutely nothing was stated. Nothing required saying, 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 boy'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 place 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. With the six-shooter, Arlene was immediately odorized. She was additional sodomized with Dakota's dick. He knocked her deeply and non-stop until he could go no more. There was nothing but 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 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 merely wrench the lad into a new position-- Either you fuckin' lick HER hole tidy-- he mocked and pushed his gangly ultra-funky dick up against the kid's face-- Or you SUCK my cock!

 

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