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There was the awareness that he could have just as well stayed with the Ingalls, to see how it all worked out after all. But he had actually 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' anyways! There was nought to do however deal with it, maybe locate some of his old loved ones, find his great-great-great grandmother when she was hot and young and rating with her! That 'd mess up the timeline for sure! He knew his geography 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 smart to be leery and careful and on guard-- Indians were still magnificent uncertain and outlaws roamed the wildlands, too.

A mountain course took him up into some rough nation, he invested a week just meandering around, finding a couple of stray cattle he assisted himself to some fresh steak. It was a little gross and he determined that in the future he would just purchase 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. When the first snows began to fall his ideas rested exclusively on the Ingalls. A nice warm fire, a bed, hot soup, cornbread, fresh milk. His own grub was getting sporadic, 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 among the Dakotas, or perhaps Iowa, maybe even Nebraska, he wasn't sure. His horse was not authorizing of the weather condition change or the persistence of continuing the useless experience. August had to agree-- he was getting nowhere quick. Another week went by, he ran afoul of a one pissed off territorial badger, gone after for miles by an even pissed off bear.

August was not amused and ended up being very cautious. He wished his internal Device had some sort of capability to see objects he himself might not see, or at least discover them, or something. He was at length able to relax the horse down, August strained to find and listen for himself what had actually spooked Tonto. He figured either a snake or Indians. Either one he was not cool with. Both were lethal, vicious, and lethal. He desired no part of either one of them. After backing his horse up a bit and securing him to a bush August slinked off into the rough, lurking, listening and stopping briefly . 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 couple of more stalwart prowlings and lastly came upon a man. Flies were already swarming and so August presumed that the guy had been dead there for some time. He wasn't going to be alive for very much longer, August had no method of reaching any physician. Compliance was not exactly complied to quickly, the two teens did their finest to stall and bring 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 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 stating, Mark went to his knees, parted his cousin's cunny lips and continued in noshing. Dakota worked the barrel of the weapon deeper into the young boy's anus, 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 needed to come and position himself on the table and insert his dick into her mouth. The experience was incredible. Dakota was August's sort of guy if he weren't so callous. With the six-shooter, Arlene was without delay odorized. She was further 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, only the crackling fire in the slapping and the fireplace balls versus 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 tidy! Dakota sneered. When Mark resisted to the revolting job of licking Arlene's orgasm packed asshole, Dakota then just wrench the lad into a brand-new position-- Either you fuckin' lick HER hole tidy-- he jeered and shoved his gangly ultra-funky dick up against the kid's face-- Or you SUCK my cock!

 

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