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There was the awareness that he could have simply as well stayed with the Ingalls, to see how it all worked out. However he had actually had his fill and it was time to move 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 happen. He was still mystified regarding how the Device ended up in his noggin' anyways! There was nought to do however deal with it, maybe find a few of his old family members, discover his great-great-great grandmother when she was young and hot and rating with her! That 'd mess up the timeline for sure! He knew his location relatively well, the location of 2000, the location of 1875 he was a little fuzzy on. And beings that it WAS 1875, Old West, it was a good idea to be cautious and hesitant and on guard-- Indians were still mighty unclear and bandits roamed the wildlands, too.
A mountain course took him up into some rough country, he invested a week simply meandering around, finding a few roaming cattle he assisted himself to some fresh steak. It was a little gross and he determined that in the future he would just buy 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. His own grub was getting sporadic, the weather turning on him the greater he went, but he desired to get up and over the mountain ridge and down into new area he presumed would be one of the Dakotas, or perhaps Iowa, maybe even Nebraska, he wasn't sure. Soon the days got as cold as the nights. His horse was not approving of the weather change or the insistence of continuing the useless experience. August needed to agree-- he was getting nowhere quick. The mountain course seemed to wind on and on and on forever. He struck off on another path 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 entertained and became very wary. He wished his internal Device had some sort of capability to see objects he himself might not see, or at least spot them, or something. He was at length able to calm the horse down, August strained to listen and spot for himself what had actually spooked Tonto. He desired 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, prowling, stopping briefly 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 absolutely nothing to hear but pests buzzing. Nothing stirred. August made a few more stalwart prowlings and lastly 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 and so August assumed that the man had been dead there for a long time. Thoroughly August stole out of the rough and up to where the man lay. To his surprise, the man was still actually alive. However hardly. He had been shot in the chest and had lost a lot of blood. He wasn't going to live for very much longer, August had no other way of reaching any doctor. The boy's ass muscles bent as he strove NOT to pump into his cousin's mouth. Arlene retched, gagged, choked, and almost threw up as she slurped on the two dicks, the balls and too licked up Mark's fracture. Arlene then needed to return to the table and lay on it with her legs widened, hands to her side. Mark then needed to go to her, on his knees, and lick her. Compliance was not precisely complied to quickly, the two teens did their finest to carry and stall 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. 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 rectum, sodomizing him well. His other hand he held on to the lad's hair, holding it up tightly, requiring him to watch 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 place himself on the table and insert his cock into her mouth. The experience was incredible. Dakota was August's kind of man if he weren't so callous. She was more sodomized with Dakota's dick. There was nothing however still silence in the shack, just the crackling fire in the fireplace and the slapping balls versus 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 clean! Dakota sneered. When Mark fought back to the disgusting job of licking Arlene's orgasm packed asshole, Dakota then merely wrench the lad into a brand-new position-- Either you fuckin' lick HER hole tidy-- he mocked and pushed his gangly ultra-funky dick up against the boy's face-- Or you SUCK my cock!
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