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There was the realization that he might have just as well stuck with the Ingalls, to see how all of it worked out after all. He had actually 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 home in 2000 was a no-go. It wasn't going to occur. He was still mystified regarding how the Device ended up in his noggin' anyways! There was nought to deal however do with it, perhaps locate a few of his old family members, find his great-great-great grandma when she was young and hot and rating with her! That 'd mess up the timeline for sure! He knew his location fairly 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 smart to be careful and wary and on guard-- Indians were still mighty unsettled and outlaws roamed the wildlands, too.
A mountain course took him up into some rough country, 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 figured out that in the future he would simply order 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, also. When the first snows started to fall his thoughts rested entirely on the Ingalls. A great 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 brand-new area he assumed would be one of the Dakotas, or perhaps Iowa, maybe even Nebraska, he wasn't sure. Quickly the days got as cold as the nights. His horse was not approving of the weather condition change or the insistence of continuing the futile adventure. August needed to concur-- he was getting nowhere fast. The mountain course appeared to wind on and on and on forever. He struck off on another path that apparently led downward. Now he was completely lost. Another week went by, he contravened of a one pissed off territorial badger, chased after for miles by an even pissed off bear. He fell versus a rock and bruised some ribs, clunked his head and knew that he had a concussion.
August was not entertained and ended up being extremely cautious. He wanted his internal Device had some sort of ability to see items he himself might not see, or at least spot them, or something. He was at length able to calm the horse down, August strained to spot 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 slid 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.
There was nothing to hear but bugs buzzing. Nothing stirred. August made a few more stalwart prowlings and finally came across a man. Putting down prone upon the ground with a substantial bloodstain on his backside. He didn't have any boots on, either. Flies were currently swarming and so August presumed that the man had actually been dead there for some time. Thoroughly August took out of the rough and up to 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 great deal of blood. He wasn't going to live for very much longer, August had no other way of reaching any physician. The young boy's ass muscles flexed as he made every effort NOT to pump into his cousin's mouth. Arlene retched, gagged, choked, and nearly threw up as she slurped on the two dicks, the balls and as well licked up Mark's crack. Arlene then had 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 rapidly, the two teenagers did their finest to bring and stall 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 young boy wore was ripped down and the barrel of the six-shooter packed 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 weapon deeper into the young boy's anus, sodomizing him nicely. His other hand he hung on to the lad's hair, holding it up securely, forcing him to watch as cousin Mark mounted Arlene and entered her. STANDING 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 after that made her suck on the barrel.
Arlene was ruthlessly wrenched over and spanked hard, Mark needed to come and position himself on the table and insert his cock into her mouth. The ordeal was amazing. Dakota was August's type of man if he weren't so ruthless. With the six-shooter, Arlene was promptly odorized. She was additional sodomized with Dakota's dick. He slammed her deeply and relentlessly until he might go no more. There was nothing but still silence in the shack, just the crackling fire in the fireplace and the slapping balls versus Arlene's ass made the only sound. 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 revolting job of licking Arlene's cum laden asshole, Dakota then simply wrench the lad into a 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 dick!
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