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There was the awareness that he could have simply as well stayed with the Ingalls, to see how it all worked out. However he had actually had his fill and it was time to proceed, 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 regarding how the Device wound up in his noggin' anyways! There was nought to do but deal with it, perhaps find some of his old family members, discover his great-great-great granny when she was young and hot and rating with her! That 'd screw up the timeline for sure! He understood his geography relatively well, the geography of 2000, the location of 1875 he was a little fuzzy on. And beings that it WAS 1875, Old West, it was smart to be hesitant and wary and on guard-- Indians were still mighty unsettled and bandits wandered 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 determined that in the future he would simply purchase one from a restaurant. Fishing was much 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, as well. When the very first snows started to fall his thoughts rested solely on the Ingalls. A great warm fire, a bed, hot soup, cornbread, fresh milk. His own grub was getting sparse, the weather condition turning on him the higher he went, but he wanted to get up and over the mountain ridge and down into new area he presumed would be among the Dakotas, or perhaps Iowa, perhaps even Nebraska, he wasn't sure. His horse was not approving of the weather change or the persistence of continuing the useless adventure. August had to agree-- he was getting nowhere fast. 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 beginning of his 3rd week out from Walnut Grove his horse he had come to call Tonto began going nuts. Rearing up some and acting really wacky. August was not amused and became extremely wary. He wanted his internal Device had some sort of capability to see things 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 identify and listen for himself what had actually alarmed Tonto. He figured either a snake or Indians. Either one he was not cool with. Both were lethal, vicious, and lethal. He wanted no part of either among them. After backing his horse up a bit and securing him to a bush August slid off into the rough, prowling, 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.
August made a couple of more stalwart prowlings and finally came upon a man. Flies were already swarming and so August assumed that the guy had actually been dead there for some time. He wasn't going to be alive for really much longer, August had no way of reaching any physician. Compliance was not precisely complied to rapidly, the two teenagers did their finest to stall and carry on-- requiring Dakota to once again 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 boy wore was ripped down and the barrel of the six-shooter packed into the lad's hole. Nothing was said. Absolutely nothing required stating, 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 rectum, sodomizing him nicely. His other hand he hung on to the lad's hair, holding it up firmly, requiring him to view as cousin Mark mounted 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 needed to come and place himself on the table and insert his dick into her mouth. The ordeal was amazing. Dakota was August's kind of male if he weren't so ruthless. She was additional sodomized with Dakota's cock. There was absolutely nothing however still silence in the shack, only 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 pushed his face into Arlene's tormented ass-- Lick it clean! Dakota sneered. When Mark fought back to the revolting task of licking Arlene's orgasm laden asshole, Dakota then just 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 young boy's face-- Or you SUCK my cock!
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