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There was the realization that he might have simply as well remained with the Ingalls, to see how it all worked out. However he had actually had his fill and it was time to carry on, maybe mosey down to St. Louis, New Orleans, or Arizona. Strongly he felt that getting back home in 2000 was a no-go. It wasn't going to take place. He was still mystified as to how the Device wound up in his noggin' anyhow! There was nought to do however deal with it, maybe locate some of his old relatives, discover his great-great-great grandma when she was hot and young and rating with her! That 'd mess up the timeline for sure! He understood his location relatively well, the geography of 2000, the location of 1875 he was a little fuzzy on. And beings that it WAS 1875, Old West, it was smart to be leery and cautious and on guard-- Indians were still mighty unclear and bandits wandered the wildlands, too.
A mountain course took him up into some rough nation, he invested a week simply 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 purchase one from a dining establishment. Fishing was much 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, also. 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 sparse, the weather turning on him the higher he went, however he wished to get up and over the mountain ridge and down into new territory he presumed would be one of the Dakotas, or potentially Iowa, perhaps even Nebraska, he wasn't sure. His horse was not approving of the weather change or the insistence 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, chased after for miles by an even pissed off bear.
August was not entertained and became very careful. 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 spot and listen for himself what had alarmed 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, prowling, 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 couple of more stalwart prowlings and lastly came upon a guy. Flies were already swarming and so August assumed that the male had actually been dead there for some time. He wasn't going to be alive for really much longer, August had no method of reaching any doctor. Compliance was not precisely complied to quickly, the two teens did their finest to bring and stall on-- forcing Dakota to once 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 kid used was ripped down and the barrel of the six-shooter packed into the lad's hole. 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. His other hand he hung on to the lad's hair, holding it up tightly, forcing him to watch as cousin Mark mounted Arlene and entered her. BASING 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 after that made her suck on the barrel.
Arlene was ruthlessly wrenched over and spanked hard, Mark had to come and place 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 more sodomized with Dakota's dick. There was absolutely nothing however still silence in the shack, just 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 pushed his face into Arlene's tormented ass-- Lick it clean! Dakota sneered. When Mark resisted to the revolting task of licking Arlene's orgasm loaded asshole, Dakota then simply wrench the lad into a new position-- Either you fuckin' lick HER hole clean-- he mocked and pushed his gangly ultra-funky cock up against the boy's face-- Or you SUCK my dick!
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