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There was the awareness that he could have just as well remained with the Ingalls, to see how it all worked out. 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 occur. He knew his geography relatively well, the location of 2000, the geography of 1875 he was a little fuzzy on. And beings that it WAS 1875, Old West, it was smart to be hesitant and wary and on guard-- Indians were still mighty unsettled 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 stray cattle he helped himself to some fresh steak. It was a little gross and he determined 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 turning on him the higher he went, but he wanted to get up and over the mountain ridge and down into new area he presumed would be one of the Dakotas, or possibly Iowa, maybe even Nebraska, he wasn't sure. His horse was not approving of the weather condition change or the persistence of continuing the useless experience. August had to agree-- 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 start of his 3rd week out from Walnut Grove his horse he had pertained to call Tonto started going crazy. Raising up some and acting extremely wacky. August was not entertained and became very wary. He wished his internal Device had some sort of capability to see items he himself could not see, or a minimum of discover them, or something. He was at length able to calm the horse down, August strained to identify and listen for himself what had actually 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 slid 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.

There was nothing to hear however insects buzzing. Nothing stirred. August made a couple of more stalwart prowlings and finally came upon a guy. Setting susceptible upon the ground with a huge 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. Carefully August stole out of the rough and up to where the man lay. To his surprise, the man was still actually alive. Hardly. He had been shot in the chest and had lost a great deal of blood. He wasn't going to be alive for quite longer, August had no chance of reaching any physician. The young boy's ass muscles flexed as he aimed NOT to pump into his cousin's mouth. Arlene retched, gagged, choked, and almost vomited as she slurped on the two cocks, the balls and as well licked up Mark's fracture. Arlene then needed 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 precisely complied to rapidly, the two teens did their finest to carry and stall on-- requiring Dakota to once again get 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 kid used was ripped down and the barrel of the six-shooter stuffed into the lad's hole. Absolutely nothing was said. Absolutely nothing needed stating, Mark went to his knees, parted his cousin's cunny lips and proceeded in noshing. Dakota worked the barrel of the weapon deeper into the young kid's anus, sodomizing him well. 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 incredible. Dakota was August's kind of guy if he weren't so ruthless. With the six-shooter, Arlene was immediately odorized. She was more sodomized with Dakota's dick. He slammed her deeply and relentlessly until he could go no more. There was 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 revolting job of licking Arlene's orgasm packed asshole, Dakota then simply wrench the lad into a new position-- Either you fuckin' lick HER hole tidy-- he mocked and pushed his gangly ultra-funky cock up against the boy's face-- Or you SUCK my cock!

 

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