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There was the realization that he could have simply as well stayed with the Ingalls, to see how it all worked out. He had actually had his fill and it was time to move on, possibly 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 happen. He was still mystified regarding how the Device wound up in his noggin' anyhow! There was nought to do however deal with it, possibly locate some of his old loved ones, find his great-great-great granny when she was young and hot and rating with her! That 'd screw up the timeline for sure! He understood his location fairly well, the geography 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 cautious and leery and on guard-- Indians were still magnificent unclear and outlaws wandered the wildlands, too.
A mountain path took him up into some rough nation, he spent a week just meandering around, finding a few roaming livestock he helped himself to some fresh steak. It was a little gross and he identified 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 very first snows began to fall his ideas rested exclusively on the Ingalls. A nice warm fire, a bed, hot soup, cornbread, fresh milk. His own grub was getting sparse, the weather condition turning on him the higher he went, but he wished to get up and over the mountain ridge and down into new area he assumed would be among the Dakotas, or possibly Iowa, perhaps even Nebraska, he wasn't sure. His horse was not authorizing of the weather change or the insistence of continuing the futile adventure. August had to concur-- he was getting nowhere fast. 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 of Walnut Grove his horse he had come to call Tonto started freaking out. Rearing up some and acting really wacky. 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 a minimum of find them, or something. He was at length able to relax the horse down, August strained to find and listen for himself what had actually scared Tonto. He desired 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, lurking, 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 couple of more stalwart prowlings and lastly came upon a male. 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 method of reaching any doctor. Compliance was not precisely complied to quickly, the two teenagers did their finest to stall and carry on-- requiring Dakota to once 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 wore was ripped down and the barrel of the six-shooter crammed into the lad's hole. Absolutely nothing was said. Absolutely nothing required saying, Mark went to his knees, parted his cousin's cunny lips and proceeded in noshing. Dakota worked the barrel of the weapon deeper into the young kid's anus, sodomizing him well. His other hand he hung on to the lad's hair, holding it up tightly, requiring him to see 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 position himself on the table and place his cock into her mouth. The ordeal was extraordinary. Dakota was August's sort of male if he weren't so ruthless. With the six-shooter, Arlene was promptly odorized. She was further sodomized with Dakota's cock. He knocked 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 noise. 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 fought back to the disgusting task 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 mocked and pushed his gangly ultra-funky cock up against the boy's face-- Or you SUCK my cock!
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