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There was the awareness that he might have simply as well stayed with the Ingalls, to see how it all worked out. He had actually had his fill and it was time to move on, maybe 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 occur. He was still mystified regarding how the Device wound up in his noggin' anyways! There was nought to do however deal with it, perhaps find some of his old relatives, discover his great-great-great grandmother when she was hot and young and score with her! That 'd screw up the timeline for sure! He knew his location 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 wary and on guard-- Indians were still mighty unclear and outlaws roamed the wildlands, too.
A mountain course took him up into some rough nation, he spent a week just meandering around, finding a few roaming livestock he helped 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 the Ingalls' hospitality, Walnut Grove as a entire. When the first snows started 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 sporadic, the weather switching on him the higher he went, however he wished to get up and over the mountain ridge and down into new area he presumed would be among the Dakotas, or possibly Iowa, maybe even Nebraska, he wasn't sure. His horse was not approving of the weather modification or the persistence of continuing the useless adventure. August had to concur-- 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.
August was not amused and ended up being really careful. He wished his internal Device had some sort of capability to see items he himself could not see, or at least identify them, or something. He was at length able to calm the horse down, August strained to spot and listen for himself what had 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, prowling, 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 male. Flies were currently swarming and so August presumed that the man had actually been dead there for some time. He wasn't going to be alive for extremely much longer, August had no method of reaching any doctor. Compliance was not exactly complied to rapidly, the two teenagers did their best to bring and stall on-- forcing 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 crammed into the lad's hole. Absolutely nothing was said. Nothing required saying, Mark went to his knees, parted his cousin's cunny lips and proceeded in noshing. Dakota worked the barrel of the gun deeper into the young boy's rectum, sodomizing him well. His other hand he hung on to the lad's hair, holding it up tightly, forcing him to enjoy as cousin Mark installed 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 then made her suck on the barrel.
Arlene was ruthlessly wrenched over and spanked hard, Mark had to come and place himself on the table and place his cock into her mouth. The experience was extraordinary. If he weren't so callous, 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 relentlessly up until he could go no more. 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 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 orgasm laden asshole, Dakota then simply wrench the lad into a brand-new position-- Either you fuckin' lick HER hole tidy-- he jeered and shoved his gangly ultra-funky cock up against the young boy's face-- Or you SUCK my cock!
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