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There was the awareness that he might have just as well stuck with the Ingalls, to see how it all worked out after all. But he had actually had his fill and it was time to carry on, perhaps mosey down to St. Louis, New Orleans, or Arizona. Strongly he felt that getting back house in 2000 was a no-go. It wasn't going to happen. He knew his geography fairly 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 cautious and hesitant and on guard-- Indians were still mighty unsettled and bandits strolled the wildlands, too.

A mountain path took him up into some rough nation, he spent a week just meandering around, finding a few stray livestock he helped himself to some fresh steak. It was a little gross and he determined that in the future he would simply buy one from a restaurant. 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. His own grub was getting sparse, the weather turning on him the higher he went, but he desired to get up and over the mountain ridge and down into 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 condition modification or the persistence of continuing the futile adventure. August had to agree-- he was getting nowhere 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 extremely wary. He wanted his internal Device had some sort of ability to see objects 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 detect and listen for himself what had scared Tonto. 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, 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 bugs buzzing. Absolutely nothing stirred. August made a few more stalwart prowlings and finally came across a man. Setting prone upon the ground with a big bloodstain on his behind. He didn't have any boots on, either. Flies were already swarming and so August presumed 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 lot of blood. He wasn't going to be alive for quite longer, August had no way of reaching any physician. The young boy's ass muscles bent as he made every effort NOT to pump into his cousin's mouth. Arlene retched, gagged, choked, and almost threw up as she slurped on the two cocks, the balls and also licked up Mark's fracture. Arlene then had to return to the table and lay on it with her legs widened, hands to her side. Mark then needed to go to her, on his knees, and lick her. Compliance was not exactly complied to rapidly, the two teenagers did their finest to carry and stall on-- forcing 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 kid used was ripped down and the barrel of the six-shooter stuffed into the lad's hole. Nothing was said. Absolutely 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 nicely. STANDING on Mark's back Dakota took his turn and fucking young Arlene.

Arlene was ruthlessly wrenched over and spanked hard, Mark needed to come and position himself on the table and place his cock into her mouth. The ordeal 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 however still silence in the shack, just the crackling fire in the slapping and the fireplace balls versus Arlene's ass made the only sound. When done, Dakota wrenched Mark up from the floor and pressed his face into Arlene's tormented ass-- Lick it clean! Dakota sneered. When Mark fought back to the revolting task of licking Arlene's orgasm loaded asshole, Dakota then just wrench the lad into a new position-- Either you fuckin' lick HER hole clean-- he mocked and pushed his gangly ultra-funky dick up against the kid's face-- Or you SUCK my dick!

 

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