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Madeleine , 24 y
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Brothels Belleek BT93

 

There was the realization that he might have just as well stuck with the Ingalls, to see how it all worked out after all. But 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 getting back 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 some of his old loved ones, find his great-great-great grandmother when she was young and hot and score with her! That 'd mess up the timeline for sure! He knew his geography 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 wise to be careful and wary and on guard-- Indians were still mighty unclear and bandits strolled the wildlands, too.

A mountain path took him up into some rough country, he spent a week simply meandering around, discovering 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 buy one from a restaurant. Fishing was better and he nailed one deer. Residing in the rough was alright, he did miss the Ingalls' hospitality, Walnut Grove as a whole, too. When the very first snows began to fall his thoughts rested entirely on the Ingalls. A nice warm fire, a bed, hot soup, cornbread, fresh milk. His own grub was getting sparse, the weather turning on him the higher he went, however he wished to get up and over the mountain ridge and down into new territory he presumed would be one of the Dakotas, or potentially Iowa, maybe even Nebraska, he wasn't sure. Soon the days got as cold as the nights. His horse was not approving of the weather condition change or the insistence of continuing the useless adventure. August needed to concur-- he was getting nowhere quickly. The mountain path seemed to wind on and on and on permanently. He struck off on another course that apparently led downward. Now he was completely lost. Another week went by, he ran afoul of a one pissed off territorial badger, chased for miles by an even pissed off bear. He fell against a rock and bruised some ribs, clunked his head and understood that he had a concussion.

Come the start of his 3rd week out of Walnut Grove his horse he had actually pertained to call Tonto began going nuts. Rearing up some and acting really silly. August was not amused and became really wary. 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 spot and listen for himself what had scared Tonto. He figured either a snake or Indians. Either one he was not cool with. Both were lethal, vicious, and deadly. He desired no part of either one of them. After backing his horse up a bit and protecting 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.

There was nothing to hear however bugs buzzing. Nothing stirred. August made a few more stalwart prowlings and finally encountered a guy. Putting down vulnerable upon the ground with a big bloodstain on his behind. He didn't have any boots on, either. Flies were already swarming therefore August presumed that the man had actually been dead there for a long time. Thoroughly August took out of the rough and up to where the man lay. To his surprise, the man was still really alive. However barely. He had been shot in the chest and had actually lost a great deal of blood. He wasn't going to be alive for quite longer, August had no other way of reaching any medical professional. The kid's ass muscles flexed as he strove NOT to pump into his cousin's mouth. Arlene retched, gagged, choked, and almost vomited as she slurped on the two cocks, the balls and as well licked up Mark's fracture. Arlene then had to return to the table and lay on it with her legs widened, 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 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 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 proceeded 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 had to come and position himself on the table and insert his cock into her mouth. The experience was amazing. Dakota was August's type of male if he weren't so callous. She was further sodomized with Dakota's cock. There was absolutely 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 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 packed asshole, Dakota then simply wrench the lad into a brand-new position-- Either you fuckin' lick HER hole tidy-- he jeered and pushed his gangly ultra-funky dick up against the kid's face-- Or you SUCK my cock!

 

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