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There was the awareness that he could have just as well stayed with the Ingalls, to see how it all exercised after all. However he had actually had his fill and it was time to proceed, possibly 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 knew his geography relatively 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 wise to be wary and leery and on guard-- Indians were still mighty uncertain and bandits strolled the wildlands, too.
A mountain path took him up into some rough country, he invested a week simply meandering around, discovering a couple of stray cattle he helped himself to some fresh steak. It was a little gross and he identified that in the future he would just buy one from a restaurant. Fishing was better and he nailed one deer. Living in the rough was alright, he did miss the Ingalls' hospitality, Walnut Grove as a whole. When the first snows began to fall his ideas rested entirely on the Ingalls. A nice warm fire, a bed, hot soup, cornbread, fresh milk. His own grub was getting sporadic, the weather condition switching on him the higher he went, but 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, perhaps even Nebraska, he wasn't sure. His horse was not authorizing of the weather change or the insistence 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, gone after for miles by an even pissed off bear.
August was not entertained and ended up being really cautious. He wanted his internal Device had some sort of capability to see things he himself could not see, or at least find them, or something. He was at length able to relax the horse down, August strained to listen and detect for himself what had actually startled Tonto. He figured either a snake or Indians. Either one he was not cool with. Both were lethal, vicious, and fatal. He wanted 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, prowling, pausing 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 however pests buzzing. Nothing stirred. August made a few more stalwart prowlings and lastly came across a male. Putting down vulnerable upon the ground with a huge bloodstain on his backside. He didn't have any boots on, either. Flies were already swarming therefore August presumed that the man had been dead there for some time. Thoroughly August stole out of the rough and approximately where the man lay. To his surprise, the man was still in fact alive. But barely. 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 way of reaching any physician. The kid's ass muscles bent as he strove NOT to pump into his cousin's mouth. Arlene retched, gagged, choked, and nearly vomited as she slurped on the two dicks, the balls and as well licked up Mark's crack. Arlene then had 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 quickly, the two teenagers did their best to carry and stall on-- forcing 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 boy used was ripped down and the barrel of the six-shooter stuffed into the lad's hole. Absolutely nothing was stated. 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 rectum, 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 insert his cock into her mouth. The experience was unbelievable. If he weren't so callous, Dakota was August's kind of male. She was further sodomized with Dakota's dick. There was nothing however 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 tidy! Dakota sneered. When Mark fought back to the disgusting task of licking Arlene's cum laden asshole, Dakota then merely wrench the lad into a brand-new position-- Either you fuckin' lick HER hole clean-- he jeered and pushed his gangly ultra-funky cock up against the kid's face-- Or you SUCK my cock!
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