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There was the realization that he could have just as well stayed 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. Strongly he felt that getting back home in 2000 was a no-go. It wasn't going to occur. He was still mystified regarding how the Device ended up in his noggin' anyhow! There was nought to do but deal with it, possibly find a few of his old loved ones, discover his great-great-great granny when she was hot and young and score with her! That 'd screw 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 wary and cautious and on guard-- Indians were still mighty uncertain and bandits strolled the wildlands, too.

A mountain course took him up into some rough country, he invested a week simply meandering around, finding a few stray livestock 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 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 wanted to get up and over the mountain ridge and down into new territory 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 condition change or the persistence of continuing the futile adventure. August had to agree-- he was getting no place quickly. Another week went by, he ran afoul of a one pissed off territorial badger, gone after for miles by an even pissed off bear.

Come the beginning of his 3rd week out from Walnut Grove his horse he had concerned call Tonto began going crazy. Rearing up some and acting very goofy. August was not entertained and became extremely careful. He wished his internal Device had some sort of capability to see objects he himself could not see, or a minimum of detect them, or something. He was at length able to relax the horse down, August strained to listen and spot for himself what had actually spooked 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, pausing 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 however bugs buzzing. Nothing stirred. August made a couple of more stalwart prowlings and finally encountered a guy. Setting prone upon the ground with a big bloodstain on his backside. He didn't have any boots on, either. Flies were currently swarming therefore August assumed that the man had actually been dead there for a long time. Thoroughly August stole out of the rough and as much as where the man lay. To his surprise, the man was still in fact alive. Barely. He had actually been shot in the chest and had lost a lot of blood. He wasn't going to live for quite longer, August had no other way of reaching any doctor. The boy's ass muscles flexed as he aimed NOT to pump into his cousin's mouth. Arlene retched, gagged, choked, and almost vomited as she slurped on the two cocks, the balls and also licked up Mark's crack. Arlene then needed 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 exactly complied to quickly, the two teenagers did their finest to stall and carry on-- requiring Dakota to 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 kid wore was ripped down and the barrel of the six-shooter stuffed into the lad's hole. Absolutely nothing was said. Absolutely nothing required 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 kid's anus, sodomizing him perfectly. STANDING on Mark's back Dakota took his turn and fucking young Arlene.

Arlene was ruthlessly wrenched over and spanked hard, Mark had to come and position himself on the table and place his dick into her mouth. The ordeal was unbelievable. Dakota was August's kind of male if he weren't so callous. With the six-shooter, Arlene was immediately odorized. She was more sodomized with Dakota's cock. He slammed her deeply and relentlessly till 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 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 fought back to the horrible task of licking Arlene's orgasm loaded asshole, Dakota then merely wrench the lad into a new position-- Either you fuckin' lick HER hole tidy-- he mocked and shoved his gangly ultra-funky dick up against the boy's face-- Or you SUCK my dick!

 

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