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There was the realization that he could have just as well stayed with the Ingalls, to see how all of it worked out 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. 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 geography of 2000, the geography of 1875 he was a little fuzzy on. And beings that it WAS 1875, Old West, it was wise to be hesitant and cautious and on guard-- Indians were still magnificent unsettled and outlaws wandered the wildlands, too.
A mountain path took him up into some rough country, he spent a week simply meandering around, discovering a few stray livestock he helped himself to some fresh steak. It was a little gross and he determined that in the future he would just order 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, as well. When the very first snows began to fall his thoughts rested entirely on the Ingalls. A great warm fire, a bed, hot soup, cornbread, fresh milk. His own grub was getting sporadic, the weather turning on him the higher he went, but he wanted to get up and over the mountain ridge and down into brand-new area he presumed would be among the Dakotas, or perhaps Iowa, maybe even Nebraska, he wasn't sure. His horse was not approving of the weather modification or the insistence of continuing the useless adventure. August had to agree-- he was getting no place quickly. 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 became very wary. He wished his internal Device had some sort of capability to see objects he himself might not see, or at least find them, or something. He was at length able to relax the horse down, August strained to spot and listen for himself what had spooked Tonto. He figured either a snake or Indians. Either one he was not cool with. Both were fatal, vicious, and deadly. He desired 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 but insects buzzing. Nothing stirred. August made a few more stalwart prowlings and lastly came upon a male. Laying down vulnerable upon the ground with a substantial bloodstain on his backside. He didn't have any boots on, either. Flies were currently swarming and so August presumed that the man had actually 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 really alive. But hardly. He had 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 other 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 cocks, 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 rapidly, the two teens did their best to bring and stall on-- forcing Dakota to again grab 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 kid used was ripped down and the barrel of the six-shooter packed into the lad's hole. Nothing was said. Nothing needed stating, 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 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 had to come and position himself on the table and place his cock into her mouth. The ordeal was incredible. Dakota was August's sort of guy if he weren't so callous. With the six-shooter, Arlene was quickly odorized. She was additional sodomized with Dakota's dick. He knocked her deeply and non-stop till he might 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 disgusting task of licking Arlene's cum packed asshole, Dakota then simply wrench the lad into a new position-- Either you fuckin' lick HER hole clean-- he jeered and pushed his gangly ultra-funky cock up against the young boy's face-- Or you SUCK my cock!
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