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There was the awareness that he might have simply as well stayed with the Ingalls, to see how it all worked out. 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 occur. He understood his geography 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 wise to be cautious and wary and on guard-- Indians were still magnificent unsettled and bandits wandered the wildlands, too.

A mountain course took him up into some rough country, he spent a week simply meandering around, finding a few roaming cattle he helped 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 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 entire. When the first snows started to fall his thoughts rested entirely on the Ingalls. A good warm fire, a bed, hot soup, cornbread, fresh milk. His own grub was getting sporadic, the weather condition switching on him the higher he went, however he wished to get up and over the mountain ridge and down into new area he assumed would be among the Dakotas, or perhaps Iowa, perhaps even Nebraska, he wasn't sure. His horse was not authorizing of the weather modification 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, chased for miles by an even pissed off bear.

Come the beginning of his 3rd week out from Walnut Grove his horse he had come to call Tonto began going crazy. Raising up some and acting really wacky. August was not entertained and became extremely careful. He wanted his internal Device had some sort of capability to see items he himself might not see, or at least identify them, or something. He was at length able to calm the horse down, August strained to find 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 fatal, 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 slid 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.

August made a few more stalwart prowlings and finally came upon a guy. Flies were already swarming and so August presumed that the male had actually been dead there for some time. He wasn't going to be alive for very much longer, August had no method of reaching any doctor. Compliance was not exactly complied to quickly, the two teens did their best to carry and stall on-- forcing 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 boy wore was ripped down and the barrel of the six-shooter crammed into the lad's hole. Absolutely nothing was stated. Nothing needed stating, Mark went to his knees, parted his cousin's cunny lips and continued in noshing. Dakota worked the barrel of the weapon deeper into the young kid'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 needed to come and position himself on the table and place his dick into her mouth. The ordeal was unbelievable. If he weren't so callous, Dakota was August's kind of male. With the six-shooter, Arlene was without delay odorized. She was additional 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 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 tidy! Dakota sneered. When Mark resisted to the revolting task of licking Arlene's orgasm packed asshole, Dakota then just wrench the lad into a brand-new position-- Either you fuckin' lick HER hole tidy-- he mocked and pushed his gangly ultra-funky cock up against the boy's face-- Or you SUCK my dick!

 

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