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There was the realization that he could have simply as well remained with the Ingalls, to see how it all worked out. But he had had his fill and it was time to carry on, perhaps mosey down to St. Louis, New Orleans, or Arizona. Strongly he felt that getting back house in 2000 was a no-go. It wasn't going to occur. He understood his geography fairly well, the geography of 2000, the geography 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 wary and on guard-- Indians were still mighty uncertain and outlaws strolled the wildlands, too.

A mountain course took him up into some rough nation, he invested a week just meandering around, finding a couple of roaming livestock he assisted himself to some fresh steak. It was a little gross and he figured out that in the future he would just purchase one from a restaurant. 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 condition turning on him the higher he went, however he desired to get up and over the mountain ridge and down into brand-new territory he presumed 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 modification or the persistence of continuing the useless adventure. August had to agree-- he was getting nowhere quick. 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 start of his 3rd week out from Walnut Grove his horse he had actually come to call Tonto began flipping out. Raising up some and acting very goofy. August was not entertained and became very wary. He wanted his internal Device had some sort of ability to see objects he himself could not see, or at least find them, or something. He was at length able to relax the horse down, August strained to listen and discover for himself what had spooked Tonto. He figured either a snake or Indians. Either one he was not cool with. Both were lethal, 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 lastly came upon a guy. Flies were currently swarming and so August presumed that the guy had actually been dead there for some time. He wasn't going to be alive for really much longer, August had no way of reaching any physician. Compliance was not precisely complied to quickly, the two teens did their finest to stall and bring on-- requiring Dakota to once 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 boy wore was ripped down and the barrel of the six-shooter packed into the lad's hole. Nothing was stated. 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 kid's rectum, sodomizing him perfectly. His other hand he held on to the lad's hair, holding it up firmly, forcing him to view as cousin Mark installed Arlene and entered her. STANDING 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 dick into her mouth. The experience was unbelievable. If he weren't so ruthless, Dakota was August's kind of guy. She was further sodomized with Dakota's dick. There was absolutely nothing however still silence in the shack, just the crackling fire in the slapping and the fireplace 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 resisted to the horrible 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 clean-- he jeered and shoved his gangly ultra-funky cock up against the boy's face-- Or you SUCK my cock!

 

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