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There was the realization that he might 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 carry on, perhaps 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 happen. He was still mystified regarding how the Device ended up in his noggin' anyhow! There was nought to do but deal with it, maybe find some of his old relatives, discover his great-great-great grandma when she was young and hot and score with her! That 'd screw up the timeline for sure! He knew his geography relatively 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 careful and wary 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 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 identified 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 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, but he wanted to get up and over the mountain ridge and down into new area he assumed would be one of the Dakotas, or possibly Iowa, perhaps even Nebraska, he wasn't sure. His horse was not authorizing of the weather modification or the persistence of continuing the useless adventure. August had to agree-- he was getting no place quick. Another week went by, he ran afoul of a one pissed off territorial badger, chased for miles by an even pissed off bear.
August was not entertained and became very cautious. He wanted his internal Device had some sort of capability 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 spot and listen for himself what had actually scared Tonto. He wanted no part of either one of them. After backing his horse up a bit and protecting him to a bush August slinked 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.
August made a few more stalwart prowlings and lastly came upon a guy. Flies were already swarming and so August assumed that the man had actually been dead there for some time. He wasn't going to be alive for very much longer, August had no way of reaching any medical professional. Compliance was not precisely complied to rapidly, the two teens did their best to stall and bring 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 boy wore 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 proceeded in noshing. Dakota worked the barrel of the weapon deeper into the young boy's anus, sodomizing him perfectly. His other hand he held on to the lad's hair, holding it up securely, requiring him to see as cousin Mark mounted Arlene and entered her. STANDING on Mark's back Dakota took his turn and fucking young Arlene. He squeezed her nipples, nipped and bit them, creamed deeply into her pussy and jammed the barrel of the revolver up into her well deflowered fucked cunny, worked it around a bit and then made her suck on the barrel.
Arlene was ruthlessly wrenched over and spanked hard, Mark needed to come and place himself on the table and place his cock into her mouth. The experience was extraordinary. Dakota was August's type of man if he weren't so callous. She was further sodomized with Dakota's dick. 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 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 cum laden asshole, Dakota then just wrench the lad into a brand-new position-- Either you fuckin' lick HER hole clean-- he jeered and shoved his gangly ultra-funky cock up against the kid's face-- Or you SUCK my dick!
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