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There was the awareness that he could have just as well stayed with the Ingalls, to see how it all worked out after all. But he had actually had his fill and it was time to proceed, 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 happen. He was still mystified regarding how the Device wound up in his noggin' anyways! There was nought to do but deal with it, perhaps find a few of his old family members, discover his great-great-great granny when she was hot and young and rating with her! That 'd screw up the timeline for sure! He knew his location 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 smart to be leery and careful and on guard-- Indians were still mighty unsettled and bandits roamed the wildlands, too.
A mountain path took him up into some rough country, he spent a week just meandering around, finding a few stray livestock he helped himself to some fresh steak. It was a little gross and he identified 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. His own grub was getting sparse, the weather condition turning on him the greater he went, however he desired to get up and over the mountain ridge and down into new area he presumed would be one of the Dakotas, or perhaps Iowa, perhaps even Nebraska, he wasn't sure. Soon the days got as cold as the nights. His horse was not approving of the weather modification or the insistence of continuing the futile adventure. August had to agree-- he was getting nowhere quick. The mountain course appeared to wind on and on and on forever. So he struck off on another path that allegedly led downward. Now he was totally lost. Another week went by, he contravened of a one pissed off territorial badger, chased for miles by an even pissed off bear. He fell against a rock and bruised some ribs, clunked his head and knew that he had a concussion.
August was not amused and became extremely cautious. 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 soothe the horse down, August strained to listen and detect for himself what had actually 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, lurking, 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. Absolutely nothing stirred. August made a few more stalwart prowlings and lastly encountered a guy. Putting down vulnerable upon the ground with a substantial bloodstain on his behind. He didn't have any boots on, either. Flies were currently swarming therefore August presumed that the man had been dead there for some time. Carefully August took out of the rough and up to where the man lay. To his surprise, the man was still in fact alive. But barely. He had been shot in the chest and had actually lost a great deal of blood. He wasn't going to live for quite longer, August had no way of reaching any doctor. The boy's ass muscles bent as he aimed NOT to pump into his cousin's mouth. Arlene retched, gagged, choked, and almost vomited as she slurped on the two dicks, the balls and also licked up Mark's crack. Arlene then needed 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 finest to carry and stall on-- requiring Dakota to 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 young boy used was ripped down and the barrel of the six-shooter crammed into the lad's hole. Nothing was stated. Nothing required stating, Mark went to his knees, parted his cousin's cunny lips and proceeded in noshing. Dakota worked the barrel of the weapon deeper into the young boy's rectum, sodomizing him well. His other hand he hung on to the lad's hair, holding it up securely, forcing him to watch 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 needed to come and position himself on the table and place his cock into her mouth. The ordeal was unbelievable. If he weren't so callous, Dakota was August's kind of man. With the six-shooter, Arlene was without delay odorized. She was further sodomized with Dakota's dick. He knocked her deeply and relentlessly up until he might 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 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 fought back to the revolting job of licking Arlene's orgasm laden asshole, Dakota then merely wrench the lad into a new position-- Either you fuckin' lick HER hole clean-- he mocked and pushed his gangly ultra-funky cock up against the young boy's face-- Or you SUCK my dick!
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