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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. He had had his fill and it was time to move on, perhaps mosey down to St. Louis, New Orleans, or Arizona. Strongly he felt that returning home in 2000 was a no-go. It wasn't going to occur. He was still mystified as to how the Device ended up in his noggin' anyhow! There was nought to deal however do with it, possibly find some of his old loved ones, discover his great-great-great grandmother when she was young and hot and score with her! That 'd screw up the timeline for sure! He understood his geography relatively well, the geography of 2000, the location 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 leery and on guard-- Indians were still mighty unsettled and outlaws wandered the wildlands, too.

A mountain course took him up into some rough nation, he invested a week simply meandering around, discovering a few stray cattle he helped himself to some fresh steak. It was a little gross and he determined 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 entire. His own grub was getting sporadic, the weather turning on him the greater he went, but he wanted to get up and over the mountain ridge and down into brand-new area he assumed would be one of the Dakotas, or possibly Iowa, possibly even Nebraska, he wasn't sure. Soon the days got as cold as the nights. His horse was not approving of the weather condition modification or the insistence of continuing the futile experience. August had to agree-- he was getting nowhere quickly. The mountain path appeared to wind on and on and on forever. So he struck off on another course that allegedly led downward. Now he was totally lost. Another week passed, he ran afoul of a one pissed off territorial badger, chased after 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.

Come the start of his 3rd week out of Walnut Grove his horse he had actually come to call Tonto began freaking out. Raising up some and acting extremely wacky. August was not amused and became very wary. He wanted his internal Device had some sort of capability to see things he himself could not see, or a minimum of spot them, or something. He was at length able to soothe the horse down, August strained to listen and detect for himself what had scared 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, lurking, stopping briefly 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 absolutely nothing to hear but insects buzzing. Nothing stirred. August made a few more stalwart prowlings and finally came across a guy. Setting vulnerable upon the ground with a big bloodstain on his behind. He didn't have any boots on, either. Flies were currently swarming therefore August presumed that the man had actually been dead there for some time. Thoroughly August took out of the rough and up to where the man lay. To his surprise, the man was still in fact alive. But hardly. He had actually been shot in the chest and had lost a lot of blood. He wasn't going to live for very much longer, August had no way of reaching any doctor. The kid's ass muscles bent as he made every effort NOT to pump into his cousin's mouth. Arlene retched, gagged, choked, and nearly threw up as she slurped on the two dicks, the balls and also licked up Mark's fracture. Arlene then needed to go back to the table and lay on it with her legs widened, hands to her side. Mark then had to go to her, on his knees, and lick her. Compliance was not exactly complied to rapidly, the two teenagers did their finest to carry and stall on-- requiring 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 young boy wore was ripped down and the barrel of the six-shooter packed into the lad's hole. Absolutely nothing was said. Absolutely nothing required saying, 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 kid's rectum, sodomizing him nicely. His other hand he held on to the lad's hair, holding it up tightly, requiring him to enjoy as cousin Mark mounted Arlene and entered her. BASING 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 after that 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 experience was incredible. If he weren't so callous, Dakota was August's kind of male. With the six-shooter, Arlene was without delay odorized. She was additional sodomized with Dakota's cock. He knocked her deeply and relentlessly up until he could go no more. There was nothing but still silence in the shack, just the crackling fire in the slapping and the fireplace balls against Arlene's ass made the only noise. When done, Dakota wrenched Mark up from the floor and pressed his face into Arlene's tormented ass-- Lick it clean! Dakota sneered. When Mark resisted to the revolting task of licking Arlene's cum loaded asshole, Dakota then merely wrench the lad into a new position-- Either you fuckin' lick HER hole tidy-- he jeered and shoved his gangly ultra-funky dick up against the young boy's face-- Or you SUCK my dick!

 

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