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Brothels Ayres of Selivoe ZE2

 

There was the awareness that he could have just as well stayed with the Ingalls, to see how it all worked out. He had actually 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 was still mystified as to how the Device wound up in his noggin' anyhow! There was nought to deal but do with it, possibly locate some of his old loved ones, discover his great-great-great grandmother when she was hot and young and score with her! That 'd mess up the timeline for sure! He understood his geography fairly 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 a good idea to be wary and careful and on guard-- Indians were still magnificent unclear and outlaws wandered the wildlands, too.

A mountain path took him up into some rough nation, he spent a week just meandering around, finding a couple of roaming cattle he assisted himself to some fresh steak. It was a little gross and he figured out that in the future he would simply buy 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 entire. His own grub was getting sparse, the weather turning on him the greater he went, however he desired to get up and over the mountain ridge and down into new area he assumed would be one of the Dakotas, or possibly Iowa, possibly even Nebraska, he wasn't sure. Quickly the days got as cold as the nights. His horse was not approving of the weather condition modification or the insistence of continuing the useless adventure. August needed to agree-- he was getting nowhere fast. The mountain course appeared to wind on and on and on forever. He struck off on another course that supposedly led downward. Now he was completely lost. Another week passed, 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 understood that he had a concussion.

August was not amused and became very careful. He wanted his internal Device had some sort of capability to see items he himself could not see, or at least detect them, or something. He was at length able to soothe the horse down, August strained to identify and listen for himself what had actually startled Tonto. He figured either a snake or Indians. Either one he was not cool with. Both were fatal, vicious, and lethal. He wanted 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, prowling, pausing 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 nothing to hear but insects buzzing. Absolutely nothing stirred. August made a couple of more stalwart prowlings and finally encountered a guy. Laying down prone upon the ground with a substantial bloodstain on his behind. He didn't have any boots on, either. Flies were currently swarming therefore August assumed that the man had actually been dead there for a long time. Carefully August stole out of the rough and as much as where the man lay. To his surprise, the man was still actually alive. Barely. He had actually been shot in the chest and had lost a great deal of blood. He wasn't going to be alive for very much longer, August had no other way of reaching any medical professional. The boy's ass muscles flexed as he aimed 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 as well licked up Mark's crack. Arlene then had to go back to the table and lay on it with her legs widened, hands to her side. Mark then had to go to her, on his knees, and lick her. Compliance was not exactly complied to quickly, the two teens did their best to stall and bring 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 young boy wore was ripped down and the barrel of the six-shooter stuffed into the lad's hole. Absolutely nothing was stated. 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 gun deeper into the young kid'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 needed to come and position himself on the table and insert his dick into her mouth. The ordeal was extraordinary. If he weren't so callous, Dakota was August's kind of man. She was more sodomized with Dakota's cock. There was nothing but still silence in the shack, only the crackling fire in the fireplace and the slapping balls against Arlene's ass made the only noise. When done, Dakota wrenched Mark up from the floor and pressed his face into Arlene's tormented ass-- Lick it tidy! Dakota sneered. When Mark fought back to the horrible task 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 jeered and pushed his gangly ultra-funky cock up against the kid's face-- Or you SUCK my cock!

 

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