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There was the awareness that he might have just as well remained with the Ingalls, to see how it all worked out. He had actually had his fill and it was time to move on, perhaps 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 take place. He was still mystified as to how the Device ended up in his noggin' anyways! There was nought to deal but do with it, maybe locate a few of his old family members, discover his great-great-great granny when she was young and hot and score with her! That 'd screw up the timeline for sure! He understood his geography 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 wary and careful and on guard-- Indians were still mighty uncertain and outlaws roamed the wildlands, too.
A mountain path took him up into some rough nation, he invested 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 figured out that in the future he would simply buy one from a dining establishment. Fishing was better and he nailed one deer. Residing in the rough was alright, he did miss out on the Ingalls' hospitality, Walnut Grove as a whole, also. When the very first snows started to fall his thoughts rested exclusively on the Ingalls. A great warm fire, a bed, hot soup, cornbread, fresh milk. His own grub was getting sparse, the weather condition switching on him the higher he went, however he wished to get up and over the mountain ridge and down into brand-new territory he assumed would be among the Dakotas, or perhaps Iowa, perhaps even Nebraska, he wasn't sure. His horse was not authorizing of the weather condition modification or the persistence of continuing the futile adventure. August had to concur-- he was getting nowhere quickly. Another week went by, he ran afoul of a one pissed off territorial badger, chased for miles by an even pissed off bear.
Come the start of his 3rd week out from Walnut Grove his horse he had actually come to call Tonto started going crazy. Raising up some and acting extremely goofy. August was not entertained and ended up being extremely cautious. He wanted his internal Device had some sort of capability to see items he himself might not see, or at least identify them, or something. He was at length able to relax the horse down, August strained to identify and listen for himself what had alarmed Tonto. He figured either a snake or Indians. Either one he was not cool with. Both were deadly, vicious, and fatal. He desired no part of either among them. After backing his horse up a bit and protecting him to a bush August slid off into the rough, lurking, listening and stopping briefly . 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 bugs buzzing. Nothing stirred. August made a couple of more stalwart prowlings and lastly came across a male. Setting prone upon the ground with a big 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 stole out of the rough and up to where the man lay. To his surprise, the man was still actually alive. Barely. He had been shot in the chest and had lost a lot of blood. He wasn't going to be alive for quite longer, August had no other way of reaching any medical professional. The boy's ass muscles bent as he made every effort 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 also licked up Mark's fracture. Arlene then needed to go back 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 precisely complied to rapidly, the two teenagers did their best 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 trousers were down and he was bent over Dakota's knee, the trap door of the long underwear the kid wore was ripped down and the barrel of the six-shooter packed into the lad's hole. Nothing was stated. 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 well. 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 place his cock into her mouth. The ordeal was unbelievable. If he weren't so ruthless, Dakota was August's kind of male. She was more sodomized with Dakota's cock. 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 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 fought back to the disgusting job of licking Arlene's cum loaded asshole, Dakota then merely wrench the lad into a brand-new position-- Either you fuckin' lick HER hole clean-- he mocked and shoved his gangly ultra-funky dick up against the boy's face-- Or you SUCK my cock!
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