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Tenley , 42 y
Viviana , 41 y
Molly , 22 y
Ariya , 40 y
Adele , 25 y
Itzel , 42 y
Maci , 38 y
Lauryn , 36 y
Sloan , 26 y
Andrea , 40 y

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There was the realization that he might have just as well stuck with the Ingalls, to see how it all worked out after all. But he had had his fill and it was time to move on, maybe 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 happen. He knew his geography 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 wise to be wary and wary and on guard-- Indians were still mighty unsettled and bandits roamed the wildlands, too.

A mountain path took him up into some rough country, he spent a week simply meandering around, finding a few stray livestock he assisted himself to some fresh steak. It was a little gross and he identified that in the future he would just order 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. His own grub was getting sporadic, the weather condition turning on him the greater he went, but he desired to get up and over the mountain ridge and down into new territory he assumed would be one of the Dakotas, or perhaps Iowa, perhaps even Nebraska, he wasn't sure. Soon the days got as cold as the nights. His horse was not authorizing of the weather condition modification or the persistence of continuing the useless experience. August needed to agree-- he was getting nowhere fast. The mountain path appeared to wind on and on and on permanently. So he struck off on another course that supposedly led downward. Now he was totally lost. Another week went by, he ran afoul of a one pissed off territorial badger, chased for miles by an even pissed off bear. He fell against a rock and bruised some ribs, clunked his head and understood that he had a concussion.

August was not amused and ended up being extremely careful. He wanted his internal Device had some sort of capability to see items he himself might not see, or at least discover them, or something. He was at length able to calm the horse down, August strained to listen and find for himself what had startled Tonto. He figured either a snake or Indians. Either one he was not cool with. Both were deadly, vicious, and lethal. He wanted 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, 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.

August made a couple of more stalwart prowlings and finally came upon a guy. Flies were already swarming and so August presumed that the man had 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 exactly complied to rapidly, the two teenagers did their best to bring and stall 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 pants were down and he was bent over Dakota's knee, the trap door of the long underwear the young boy used was ripped down and the barrel of the six-shooter stuffed 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 gun deeper into the young boy's anus, sodomizing him well. 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 place himself on the table and insert his dick into her mouth. The ordeal was unbelievable. Dakota was August's sort of man if he weren't so ruthless. With the six-shooter, Arlene was promptly odorized. She was more sodomized with Dakota's dick. He slammed her deeply and relentlessly until he could go no more. There was nothing but still silence in the shack, only the crackling fire in the fireplace and the slapping balls versus 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 revolting task of licking Arlene's orgasm loaded asshole, Dakota then just wrench the lad into a new position-- Either you fuckin' lick HER hole clean-- he mocked and pushed his gangly ultra-funky dick up against the young boy's face-- Or you SUCK my dick!

 

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