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There was the realization that he could have just as well stuck with the Ingalls, to see how all of it exercised after all. However he had actually had his fill and it was time to proceed, possibly 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 regarding how the Device ended up in his noggin' anyhow! There was nought to deal but do with it, perhaps find some of his old family members, 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 location 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 careful and hesitant and on guard-- Indians were still mighty unclear and outlaws roamed the wildlands, too.
A mountain path took him up into some rough country, he spent a week just meandering around, finding 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 purchase one from a restaurant. Fishing was better and he nailed one deer. Living in the rough was alright, he did miss the Ingalls' hospitality, Walnut Grove as a whole, also. When the first snows started 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 sporadic, the weather condition turning on him the higher he went, but he wanted to get up and over the mountain ridge and down into new area he assumed would be one of the Dakotas, or possibly Iowa, maybe even Nebraska, he wasn't sure. His horse was not approving of the weather modification or the insistence of continuing the useless experience. August had to concur-- he was getting no place 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.
August was not entertained and became extremely cautious. He wished his internal Device had some sort of capability to see objects he himself might not see, or at least detect them, or something. He was at length able to soothe the horse down, August strained to listen and discover 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 slipped 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 few more stalwart prowlings and lastly came upon a male. Flies were currently swarming and so August assumed that the male had actually been dead there for some time. He wasn't going to be alive for extremely much longer, August had no way of reaching any medical professional. Compliance was not precisely complied to rapidly, the two teens did their finest to stall and carry 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 trousers 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 stuffed into the lad's hole. Absolutely nothing was said. Absolutely 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 boy's anus, sodomizing him nicely. 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 place himself on the table and place his cock into her mouth. The experience was unbelievable. If he weren't so callous, Dakota was August's kind of man. She was further sodomized with Dakota's dick. There was absolutely nothing however still silence in the shack, just the crackling fire in the fireplace and the slapping balls against Arlene's ass made the only noise. 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 fought back to the revolting job of licking Arlene's orgasm laden asshole, Dakota then merely wrench the lad into a brand-new position-- Either you fuckin' lick HER hole clean-- he mocked and shoved his gangly ultra-funky cock up against the boy's face-- Or you SUCK my cock!
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