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There was the realization that he might have just as well stayed with the Ingalls, to see how all of it exercised after all. He had had his fill and it was time to move on, maybe mosey down to St. Louis, New Orleans, or Arizona. Strongly he felt that getting back house in 2000 was a no-go. It wasn't going to take place. He knew his geography relatively 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 wary and careful and on guard-- Indians were still mighty unsettled and outlaws strolled the wildlands, too.
A mountain path took him up into some rough country, he spent a week simply meandering around, finding a couple of roaming cattle he helped himself to some fresh steak. It was a little gross and he determined that in the future he would simply purchase one from a restaurant. Fishing was 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. His own grub was getting sparse, the weather turning on him the greater he went, however he desired to get up and over the mountain ridge and down into brand-new area he presumed would be one of the Dakotas, or perhaps Iowa, perhaps even Nebraska, he wasn't sure. His horse was not approving of the weather condition modification or the persistence of continuing the futile experience. 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 after for miles by an even pissed off bear.
August was not entertained and became very careful. He wanted his internal Device had some sort of ability to see objects he himself might not see, or at least discover them, or something. He was at length able to calm the horse down, August strained to listen and find for himself what had actually spooked 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 securing him to a bush August slid 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.
There was absolutely nothing to hear but insects buzzing. Absolutely nothing stirred. August made a few more stalwart prowlings and finally encountered a man. Setting susceptible upon the ground with a substantial bloodstain on his behind. He didn't have any boots on, either. Flies were already swarming and so August assumed that the man had actually been dead there for some time. Carefully August took out of the rough and approximately where the man lay. To his surprise, the man was still really alive. Hardly. He had actually been shot in the chest and had lost a lot of blood. He wasn't going to be alive for very much longer, August had no way of reaching any doctor. The boy's ass muscles flexed as he strove NOT to pump into his cousin's mouth. Arlene retched, gagged, choked, and nearly vomited as she slurped on the two dicks, the balls and too licked up Mark's crack. Arlene then needed to return to the table and lay on it with her legs opened wide, hands to her side. Mark then needed to go to her, on his knees, and lick her. Compliance was not exactly complied to quickly, the two teenagers did their finest to carry and stall on-- requiring Dakota to once more 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 boy wore was ripped down and the barrel of the six-shooter stuffed into the lad's hole. Nothing was stated. Absolutely nothing needed 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 kid's rectum, 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 had to come and place himself on the table and place his cock into her mouth. The ordeal was extraordinary. If he weren't so callous, Dakota was August's kind of guy. She was further sodomized with Dakota's dick. There was absolutely nothing but still silence in the shack, only the crackling fire in the slapping and the fireplace 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 tidy! Dakota sneered. When Mark resisted to the horrible task of licking Arlene's cum loaded asshole, Dakota then simply wrench the lad into a new position-- Either you fuckin' lick HER hole tidy-- he mocked and shoved his gangly ultra-funky dick up against the young boy's face-- Or you SUCK my dick!
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