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There was the awareness that he might have just as well stuck with the Ingalls, to see how it all exercised after all. He had had his fill and it was time to move on, perhaps mosey down to St. Louis, New Orleans, or Arizona. Highly he felt that getting back home in 2000 was a no-go. It wasn't going to take place. He was still mystified regarding how the Device ended up in his noggin' anyways! There was nought to do but deal with it, maybe find a few of his old family members, find his great-great-great grandma when she was hot and young and score with her! That 'd mess up the timeline for sure! He understood his location 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 a good idea to be leery and wary and on guard-- Indians were still magnificent uncertain and bandits wandered the wildlands, too.
A mountain path took him up into some rough country, he spent a week simply meandering around, finding a couple of roaming cattle he assisted himself to some fresh steak. It was a little gross and he determined that in the future he would just 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 entire. His own grub was getting sparse, the weather turning on him the higher he went, however he desired 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, maybe even Nebraska, he wasn't sure. Soon the days got as cold as the nights. His horse was not approving of the weather change or the insistence of continuing the useless adventure. August needed to agree-- he was getting nowhere quick. The mountain path seemed to wind on and on and on forever. He struck off on another path that supposedly led downward. Now he was completely lost. Another week went by, he ran afoul of a one pissed off territorial badger, gone after for miles by an even pissed off bear. He fell versus a rock and bruised some ribs, clunked his head and knew that he had a concussion.
August was not entertained and ended up being extremely cautious. He wanted his internal Device had some sort of ability to see items he himself might not see, or at least find them, or something. He was at length able to relax the horse down, August strained to listen and spot for himself what had alarmed Tonto. He figured either a snake or Indians. Either one he was not cool with. Both were fatal, vicious, and deadly. He wanted no part of either among them. After backing his horse up a bit and protecting him to a bush August slipped off into the rough, prowling, 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 finally came upon a man. Flies were already swarming and so August assumed that the guy had actually been dead there for some time. He wasn't going to be alive for very much longer, August had no method of reaching any medical professional. Compliance was not precisely complied to rapidly, the two teens did their finest to carry and stall 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 pants were down and he was bent over Dakota's knee, the trap door of the long underwear the kid wore was ripped down and the barrel of the six-shooter packed into the lad's hole. Absolutely nothing was stated. Absolutely nothing required saying, Mark went to his knees, parted his cousin's cunny lips and proceeded 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 position himself on the table and place his cock into her mouth. The ordeal was extraordinary. Dakota was August's type of guy if he weren't so ruthless. She was more sodomized with Dakota's cock. There was absolutely nothing but still silence in the shack, just the crackling fire in the slapping and the fireplace 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 task of licking Arlene's orgasm loaded asshole, Dakota then simply wrench the lad into a new position-- Either you fuckin' lick HER hole tidy-- he jeered and shoved his gangly ultra-funky dick up against the boy's face-- Or you SUCK my dick!
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