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There was the awareness that he could have just as well stuck with the Ingalls, to see how everything exercised after all. However he had actually had his fill and it was time to move on, maybe mosey down to St. Louis, New Orleans, or Arizona. Strongly he felt that getting back home in 2000 was a no-go. It wasn't going to occur. He was still mystified as to how the Device wound up in his noggin' anyhow! There was nought to do however deal with it, maybe locate a few of his old family members, find his great-great-great granny when she was hot and young and rating with her! That 'd mess up the timeline for sure! He knew his location relatively well, the location of 2000, the geography of 1875 he was a little fuzzy on. And beings that it WAS 1875, Old West, it was a good idea to be wary and cautious and on guard-- Indians were still magnificent unsettled and bandits wandered the wildlands, too.

A mountain path took him up into some rough nation, he spent a week just meandering around, finding a few stray livestock he assisted himself to some fresh steak. It was a little gross and he identified that in the future he would simply purchase 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 very first snows started to fall his ideas rested exclusively 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 greater he went, but he wanted to get up and over the mountain ridge and down into brand-new territory he assumed would be one of the Dakotas, or possibly Iowa, perhaps even Nebraska, he wasn't sure. His horse was not authorizing of the weather modification or the persistence of continuing the useless experience. August had to concur-- he was getting nowhere 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.

Come the start of his 3rd week out of Walnut Grove his horse he had concerned call Tonto began going crazy. Rearing up some and acting very wacky. August was not amused and became extremely cautious. He wanted his internal Device had some sort of capability to see things he himself might not see, or at least find them, or something. He was at length able to calm the horse down, August strained to listen and spot for himself what had actually spooked Tonto. He wanted no part of either one of them. After backing his horse up a bit and securing him to a bush August slid 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.

There was absolutely nothing to hear but bugs buzzing. Nothing stirred. August made a couple of more stalwart prowlings and finally came upon a guy. Setting prone upon the ground with a huge bloodstain on his backside. He didn't have any boots on, either. Flies were already swarming and so August presumed that the man had been dead there for some time. Carefully August took out of the rough and approximately where the man lay. To his surprise, the man was still actually alive. Hardly. He had been shot in the chest and had lost a lot of blood. He wasn't going to be alive for very much longer, August had no way of reaching any doctor. The boy's ass muscles flexed 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 opened wide, hands to her side. Mark then needed to go to her, on his knees, and lick her. Compliance was not exactly complied to rapidly, the two teenagers did their finest to stall and carry on-- requiring Dakota to 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 young boy wore was ripped down and the barrel of the six-shooter stuffed into the lad's hole. Absolutely nothing was said. Nothing required stating, Mark went to his knees, parted his cousin's cunny lips and continued in noshing. Dakota worked the barrel of the gun deeper into the young boy's rectum, sodomizing him perfectly. 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 place himself on the table and insert his dick into her mouth. The ordeal was incredible. Dakota was August's sort of guy if he weren't so ruthless. She was additional sodomized with Dakota's cock. There was nothing however still silence in the shack, only the crackling fire in the slapping and the fireplace balls against Arlene's ass made the only sound. 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 resisted to the horrible job of licking Arlene's orgasm packed asshole, Dakota then just wrench the lad into a brand-new position-- Either you fuckin' lick HER hole clean-- he jeered and shoved his gangly ultra-funky cock up against the boy's face-- Or you SUCK my cock!

 

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