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There was the realization that he might have simply as well stayed with the Ingalls, to see how it all worked out. However he had 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 occur. He was still mystified as to how the Device wound up in his noggin' anyways! There was nought to deal but do with it, maybe find a few of his old loved ones, find his great-great-great grandmother when she was hot and young and rating with her! That 'd mess up the timeline for sure! He understood his geography relatively well, the geography 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 cautious and hesitant and on guard-- Indians were still mighty uncertain and outlaws roamed the wildlands, too.
A mountain course took him up into some rough country, he invested a week simply meandering around, finding a couple of stray cattle he helped himself to some fresh steak. It was a little gross and he figured out that in the future he would just buy one from a dining establishment. Fishing was much better and he nailed one deer. Living in the rough was alright, he did miss the Ingalls' hospitality, Walnut Grove as a entire. His own grub was getting sporadic, the weather condition turning on him the greater he went, however he wanted to get up and over the mountain ridge and down into brand-new territory he presumed would be one of the Dakotas, or perhaps Iowa, possibly even Nebraska, he wasn't sure. His horse was not authorizing of the weather condition change or the persistence 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, chased after for miles by an even pissed off bear.
August was not entertained and became really cautious. He wished his internal Device had some sort of ability to see objects he himself might not see, or at least detect them, or something. He was at length able to calm the horse down, August strained to detect and listen for himself what had actually startled Tonto. He desired 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, 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 pests buzzing. Absolutely nothing stirred. August made a couple of more stalwart prowlings and lastly came across a guy. Setting prone upon the ground with a big bloodstain on his backside. 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. Carefully August stole out of the rough and as much as where the man lay. To his surprise, the man was still really alive. But barely. He had been shot in the chest and had lost a great deal of blood. He wasn't going to live for quite longer, August had no way of reaching any doctor. The young boy's ass muscles flexed as he aimed NOT to pump into his cousin's mouth. Arlene retched, gagged, choked, and almost threw up as she slurped on the two cocks, 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 had to go to her, on his knees, and lick her. Compliance was not precisely complied to quickly, the two teens did their finest to carry and stall on-- requiring Dakota to once more get 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 wore was ripped down and the barrel of the six-shooter stuffed into the lad's hole. Absolutely nothing was said. Absolutely 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 boy's rectum, sodomizing him well. 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 position himself on the table and place his dick into her mouth. The experience was incredible. If he weren't so callous, Dakota was August's kind of man. She was further sodomized with Dakota's dick. There was nothing but still silence in the shack, only the crackling fire in the fireplace and the slapping 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 tidy! Dakota sneered. When Mark resisted to the revolting task of licking Arlene's orgasm packed asshole, Dakota then just wrench the lad into a brand-new position-- Either you fuckin' lick HER hole clean-- he jeered and pushed his gangly ultra-funky dick up against the boy's face-- Or you SUCK my dick!
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