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There was the awareness that he might have just as well stayed with the Ingalls, to see how it all exercised after all. He had actually had his fill and it was time to move on, possibly mosey down to St. Louis, New Orleans, or Arizona. Highly he felt that returning home in 2000 was a no-go. It wasn't going to happen. He was still mystified as to how the Device ended up in his noggin' anyways! There was nought to deal however do with it, perhaps find some of his old loved ones, discover his great-great-great grandmother when she was young and hot and rating with her! That 'd mess up the timeline for sure! He understood his location 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 wise to be wary and wary and on guard-- Indians were still magnificent unclear and bandits roamed the wildlands, too.
A mountain path took him up into some rough nation, he spent a week just meandering around, discovering a few roaming cattle he assisted himself to some fresh steak. It was a little gross and he determined that in the future he would just purchase one from a dining establishment. 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, as well. When the very first snows began to fall his ideas rested entirely on the Ingalls. A nice warm fire, a bed, hot soup, cornbread, fresh milk. His own grub was getting sparse, the weather switching on him the higher he went, but he wanted to get up and over the mountain ridge and down into brand-new area he presumed would be among the Dakotas, or potentially Iowa, maybe even Nebraska, he wasn't sure. His horse was not authorizing of the weather change or the persistence of continuing the futile adventure. August had to concur-- he was getting no place 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 beginning of his 3rd week out of Walnut Grove his horse he had concerned call Tonto began going crazy. Rearing up some and acting extremely wacky. August was not entertained and became extremely careful. He wanted his internal Device had some sort of capability to see things he himself might not see, or a minimum of detect them, or something. He was at length able to calm the horse down, August strained to discover and listen for himself what had alarmed Tonto. He wanted no part of either one of them. After backing his horse up a bit and securing him to a bush August slipped off into the rough, lurking, listening and pausing . 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 already swarming and so August presumed that the male had been dead there for some time. He wasn't going to be alive for very much longer, August had no way of reaching any physician. Compliance was not precisely complied to rapidly, the two teens did their best to stall and bring on-- forcing 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 boy used was ripped down and the barrel of the six-shooter packed 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 weapon deeper into the young kid's anus, sodomizing him perfectly. His other hand he hung on to the lad's hair, holding it up tightly, forcing him to watch as cousin Mark installed Arlene and entered her. BASING 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 then 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 place his cock into her mouth. The experience was incredible. Dakota was August's kind of male if he weren't so ruthless. With the six-shooter, Arlene was immediately odorized. She was additional sodomized with Dakota's cock. He slammed her deeply and non-stop up until he could go no more. There was nothing but still silence in the shack, only the crackling fire in the slapping and the fireplace balls against Arlene's ass made the only sound. 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 resisted to the disgusting task of licking Arlene's cum loaded asshole, Dakota then just wrench the lad into a new position-- Either you fuckin' lick HER hole clean-- he mocked and pushed his gangly ultra-funky cock up against the young boy's face-- Or you SUCK my cock!
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