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There was the realization that he might have just as well remained with the Ingalls, to see how it all worked out. However he had had his fill and it was time to move on, perhaps 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 location fairly 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 careful and on guard-- Indians were still magnificent uncertain and bandits strolled the wildlands, too.
A mountain path took him up into some rough country, he spent a week just meandering around, finding a couple of stray livestock he assisted himself to some fresh steak. It was a little gross and he determined that in the future he would simply purchase one from a restaurant. 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, too. When the very first snows started to fall his thoughts rested entirely on the Ingalls. A nice warm fire, a bed, hot soup, cornbread, fresh milk. His own grub was getting sparse, the weather condition switching on him the higher he went, however he wanted to get up and over the mountain ridge and down into new area he assumed would be among the Dakotas, or perhaps Iowa, maybe 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 concur-- he was getting nowhere 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.
August was not amused and ended up being very careful. He wished his internal Device had some sort of capability to see items he himself could not see, or at least spot them, or something. He was at length able to calm the horse down, August strained to spot and listen for himself what had actually scared Tonto. He figured either a snake or Indians. Either one he was not cool with. Both were deadly, vicious, and lethal. He desired 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 stopping briefly . 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 bugs buzzing. Nothing stirred. August made a few more stalwart prowlings and finally came upon a man. Putting down vulnerable upon the ground with a huge bloodstain on his backside. He didn't have any boots on, either. Flies were already swarming and so August assumed that the man had actually been dead there for some time. Carefully August stole out of the rough and approximately where the man lay. To his surprise, the man was still in fact alive. But hardly. He had actually been shot in the chest and had actually lost a lot of blood. He wasn't going to be alive for quite longer, August had no chance of reaching any medical professional. The kid's ass muscles flexed 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 needed to go back to the table and lay on it with her legs opened wide, hands to her side. Mark then needed to go to her, on his knees, and lick her. Compliance was not exactly complied to quickly, the two teens did their finest to bring 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 trousers 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 packed into the lad's hole. Nothing was stated. Nothing required saying, 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 rectum, 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 had to come and position himself on the table and place his dick into her mouth. The ordeal was incredible. If he weren't so callous, Dakota was August's kind of man. With the six-shooter, Arlene was immediately odorized. She was more sodomized with Dakota's dick. He knocked her deeply and non-stop till he might go no more. 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 pressed his face into Arlene's tormented ass-- Lick it clean! Dakota sneered. When Mark resisted to the disgusting task of licking Arlene's orgasm laden 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 cock up against the boy's face-- Or you SUCK my cock!
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