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There was the awareness that he might have just as well stayed with the Ingalls, to see how everything exercised after all. He had actually had his fill and it was time to move on, perhaps mosey down to St. Louis, New Orleans, or Arizona. Strongly he felt that returning 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' anyways! There was nought to do but deal with it, possibly locate a few of his old relatives, find his great-great-great grandma when she was young and hot and score with her! That 'd mess up the timeline for sure! 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 smart to be hesitant and wary and on guard-- Indians were still magnificent uncertain and outlaws strolled the wildlands, too.
A mountain course took him up into some rough country, he invested a week just meandering around, discovering a couple of stray livestock he helped himself to some fresh steak. It was a little gross and he figured out that in the future he would simply order 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 whole, too. When the very first snows began to fall his thoughts rested solely on the Ingalls. A nice 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 wished to get up and over the mountain ridge and down into brand-new area he presumed would be one of the Dakotas, or possibly Iowa, maybe even Nebraska, he wasn't sure. His horse was not approving of the weather condition change or the insistence of continuing the useless adventure. August had to agree-- he was getting no place fast. Another week went by, he ran afoul of a one pissed off territorial badger, chased for miles by an even pissed off bear.
August was not entertained and became very cautious. He wanted his internal Device had some sort of ability to see items he himself could not see, or at least detect them, or something. He was at length able to relax the horse down, August strained to identify and listen for himself what had actually alarmed Tonto. He figured either a snake or Indians. Either one he was not cool with. Both were lethal, vicious, and lethal. He desired no part of either among them. After backing his horse up a bit and securing him to a bush August slinked off into the rough, lurking, 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 man. Flies were already swarming and so August assumed that the man had actually been dead there for some time. He wasn't going to be alive for extremely much longer, August had no method of reaching any doctor. Compliance was not precisely complied to quickly, the two teenagers did their best to carry and stall 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 young boy used was ripped down and the barrel of the six-shooter crammed into the lad's hole. Absolutely nothing was stated. Absolutely nothing required stating, 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 rectum, sodomizing him perfectly. 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 place himself on the table and insert his cock into her mouth. The experience was incredible. Dakota was August's type of guy if he weren't so callous. With the six-shooter, Arlene was without delay odorized. She was further sodomized with Dakota's cock. He knocked her deeply and non-stop until he could 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 pressed his face into Arlene's tormented ass-- Lick it clean! Dakota sneered. When Mark fought back to the revolting job of licking Arlene's orgasm laden asshole, Dakota then simply wrench the lad into a brand-new position-- Either you fuckin' lick HER hole tidy-- he mocked and pushed his gangly ultra-funky dick up against the kid's face-- Or you SUCK my dick!
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