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Kinsley , 36 y
Giselle , 38 y
Mya , 41 y
Alyssa , 23 y
Jolene , 26 y
Logan , 23 y
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Peyton , 42 y
Leia , 33 y
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There was the realization that he might have simply as well stayed with the Ingalls, to see how it all worked out. But he had had his fill and it was time to carry on, possibly 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 occur. He knew his geography fairly 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 wary and hesitant and on guard-- Indians were still mighty unsettled and bandits wandered the wildlands, too.

A mountain path took him up into some rough nation, he invested a week just meandering around, finding a few roaming 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 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, as well. When the very first snows started to fall his thoughts rested exclusively on the Ingalls. A great warm fire, a bed, hot soup, cornbread, fresh milk. His own grub was getting sparse, the weather turning on him the higher he went, but he wished to get up and over the mountain ridge and down into new territory he assumed would be among the Dakotas, or perhaps Iowa, perhaps even Nebraska, he wasn't sure. His horse was not approving of the weather change or the persistence of continuing the futile experience. August had to agree-- he was getting no place fast. 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 amused and ended up being really cautious. He wished 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 relax the horse down, August strained to listen and discover for himself what had actually alarmed Tonto. He wanted no part of either one of them. After backing his horse up a bit and protecting him to a bush August slipped 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 but pests buzzing. Nothing stirred. August made a few more stalwart prowlings and finally came upon a man. Setting prone upon the ground with a substantial bloodstain on his backside. He didn't have any boots on, either. Flies were already 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 in fact alive. Hardly. He had been shot in the chest and had lost a lot of blood. He wasn't going to be alive for quite longer, August had no way of reaching any physician. The young boy's ass muscles bent as he strove NOT to pump into his cousin's mouth. Arlene retched, gagged, choked, and nearly threw up as she slurped on the two dicks, the balls and also licked up Mark's crack. Arlene then had to return 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 precisely complied to rapidly, the two teens did their best to carry and stall on-- requiring Dakota to once more 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 boy used was ripped down and the barrel of the six-shooter packed 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 continued in noshing. Dakota worked the barrel of the gun deeper into the young boy's anus, sodomizing him well. His other hand he held on to the lad's hair, holding it up firmly, requiring him to view as cousin Mark installed 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 position himself on the table and insert his cock into her mouth. The experience was unbelievable. If he weren't so callous, Dakota was August's kind of male. She was more sodomized with Dakota's cock. There was nothing but still silence in the shack, just 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 orgasm packed asshole, Dakota then merely wrench the lad into a new position-- Either you fuckin' lick HER hole clean-- he jeered and pushed his gangly ultra-funky dick up against the kid's face-- Or you SUCK my cock!

 

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