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There was the awareness 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 returning home in 2000 was a no-go. It wasn't going to occur. He was still mystified as to how the Device wound up in his noggin' anyhow! There was nought to deal however do with it, maybe locate some of his old family members, find his great-great-great granny when she was hot and young and score with her! That 'd mess up the timeline for sure! He understood 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 smart to be careful and hesitant and on guard-- Indians were still mighty unclear and bandits roamed the wildlands, too.
A mountain course took him up into some rough nation, he spent a week just meandering around, discovering a couple of roaming cattle he helped himself to some fresh steak. It was a little gross and he identified 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 condition turning on him the greater he went, however he wanted to get up and over the mountain ridge and down into brand-new area he presumed would be one of the Dakotas, or potentially Iowa, perhaps even Nebraska, he wasn't sure. His horse was not approving of the weather condition change or the insistence of continuing the useless experience. August had to concur-- he was getting no place quick. Another week went by, he ran afoul of a one pissed off territorial badger, chased after for miles by an even pissed off bear.
August was not entertained and ended up being very cautious. He wanted his internal Device had some sort of capability 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 find and listen for himself what had scared Tonto. He desired 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, lurking, listening and pausing . 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 lastly came upon a male. Flies were already swarming and so August assumed that the guy had 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 exactly complied to rapidly, the two teenagers did their finest to stall and carry on-- requiring Dakota to once 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 boy wore was ripped down and the barrel of the six-shooter packed 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 gun deeper into the young kid's anus, 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 had to come and position himself on the table and place his cock into her mouth. The ordeal was amazing. Dakota was August's type of male if he weren't so callous. With the six-shooter, Arlene was immediately odorized. She was more sodomized with Dakota's dick. He knocked her deeply and relentlessly till he could go no more. There was nothing but still silence in the shack, only the crackling fire in the fireplace and the slapping balls versus 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 revolting task of licking Arlene's cum laden asshole, Dakota then simply wrench the lad into a brand-new position-- Either you fuckin' lick HER hole clean-- he jeered and pushed his gangly ultra-funky dick up against the young boy's face-- Or you SUCK my dick!
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