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Brothels Birch Berrow WR6

 

There was the realization that he might have just as well stayed with the Ingalls, to see how all of it worked out after all. But he had had his fill and it was time to proceed, perhaps mosey down to St. Louis, New Orleans, or Arizona. Highly he felt that getting back home in 2000 was a no-go. It wasn't going to take place. He understood 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 smart to be wary and cautious and on guard-- Indians were still mighty uncertain and bandits strolled the wildlands, too.

A mountain course took him up into some rough country, he spent a week simply meandering around, finding a few 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 purchase one from a restaurant. 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, too. When the first snows began to fall his thoughts rested solely 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 wanted to get up and over the mountain ridge and down into brand-new area he presumed would be one of the Dakotas, or perhaps Iowa, maybe even Nebraska, he wasn't sure. His horse was not authorizing of the weather modification or the persistence of continuing the futile adventure. August had to agree-- he was getting no place quick. Another week went by, he ran afoul of a one pissed off territorial badger, gone after for miles by an even pissed off bear.

August was not entertained and ended up being very cautious. He wished his internal Device had some sort of capability to see objects he himself might not see, or at least detect them, or something. He was at length able to soothe the horse down, August strained to listen and find for himself what had alarmed Tonto. He wanted no part of either one of them. After backing his horse up a bit and securing him to a bush August slipped off into the rough, lurking, listening and pausing . 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 few more stalwart prowlings and lastly came upon a guy. Flies were already swarming and so August presumed that the guy had been dead there for some time. He wasn't going to be alive for really much longer, August had no way of reaching any medical professional. Compliance was not exactly complied to rapidly, the two teenagers did their best to carry and stall 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 trousers 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 needed 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 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 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 ruthless, Dakota was August's kind of male. With the six-shooter, Arlene was immediately odorized. She was more sodomized with Dakota's cock. He slammed her deeply and non-stop up until he could go no more. There was nothing but still silence in the shack, just the crackling fire in the fireplace and the slapping 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 horrible task of licking Arlene's cum packed asshole, Dakota then simply wrench the lad into a new position-- Either you fuckin' lick HER hole tidy-- he mocked and pushed his gangly ultra-funky cock up against the boy's face-- Or you SUCK my dick!

 

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