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Brothels Bathford BA1

 

There was the awareness that he might have simply as well remained with the Ingalls, to see how it all worked out. 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 take place. He was still mystified as to how the Device ended up in his noggin' anyhow! There was nought to deal however do with it, maybe locate some of his old relatives, discover his great-great-great grandmother when she was young and hot and score with her! That 'd screw up the timeline for sure! He knew his geography relatively 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 hesitant and cautious and on guard-- Indians were still mighty unsettled and bandits roamed the wildlands, too.

A mountain course took him up into some rough country, he spent a week simply meandering around, discovering a couple of roaming livestock he helped himself to some fresh steak. It was a little gross and he determined that in the future he would just buy one from a restaurant. Fishing was much better and he nailed one deer. Residing in the rough was alright, he did miss the Ingalls' hospitality, Walnut Grove as a whole, as well. 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 switching on him the greater he went, however he wanted to get up and over the mountain ridge and down into brand-new area he assumed would be among the Dakotas, or perhaps Iowa, maybe even Nebraska, he wasn't sure. His horse was not approving of the weather change or the insistence of continuing the futile adventure. August had to agree-- he was getting no place quick. Another week went by, he ran afoul of a one pissed off territorial badger, chased after for miles by an even pissed off bear.

Come the start of his 3rd week out of Walnut Grove his horse he had pertained to call Tonto began going crazy. Rearing up some and acting really goofy. August was not amused and became really cautious. He wanted his internal Device had some sort of capability to see items he himself could not see, or at least discover them, or something. He was at length able to soothe the horse down, August strained to listen and spot for himself what had actually scared Tonto. He wanted 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, 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.

August made a few more stalwart prowlings and finally came upon a guy. Flies were currently swarming and so August presumed that the man had actually been dead there for some time. He wasn't going to be alive for very much longer, August had no way of reaching any doctor. Compliance was not precisely complied to rapidly, the two teens did their best to stall and carry on-- forcing Dakota to again get 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 kid used was ripped down and the barrel of the six-shooter crammed into the lad's hole. Nothing was stated. Nothing required saying, Mark went to his knees, parted his cousin's cunny lips and continued in noshing. Dakota worked the barrel of the gun deeper into the young boy's rectum, sodomizing him nicely. His other hand he hung on to the lad's hair, holding it up firmly, forcing him to watch 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 incredible. Dakota was August's kind of guy if he weren't so ruthless. With the six-shooter, Arlene was promptly odorized. She was more sodomized with Dakota's cock. He knocked her deeply and relentlessly up 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 sound. 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 disgusting job of licking Arlene's orgasm loaded asshole, Dakota then merely wrench the lad into a brand-new position-- Either you fuckin' lick HER hole clean-- he mocked and pushed his gangly ultra-funky cock up against the boy's face-- Or you SUCK my cock!

 

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