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There was the awareness that he might have just as well remained with the Ingalls, to see how it all worked out. He had 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 house in 2000 was a no-go. It wasn't going to occur. He understood 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 wise to be careful and leery and on guard-- Indians were still magnificent uncertain and outlaws strolled the wildlands, too.
A mountain path took him up into some rough nation, he invested a week simply meandering around, finding a couple of stray cattle he helped himself to some fresh steak. It was a little gross and he determined that in the future he would just purchase one from a dining establishment. Fishing was better and he nailed one deer. Living in the rough was alright, he did miss out on the Ingalls' hospitality, Walnut Grove as a whole. His own grub was getting sparse, the weather condition turning on him the greater he went, but he desired to get up and over the mountain ridge and down into brand-new area he presumed would be one of the Dakotas, or possibly Iowa, perhaps even Nebraska, he wasn't sure. His horse was not approving of the weather modification or the insistence of continuing the useless experience. August had to concur-- he was getting nowhere quickly. Another week went by, he ran afoul of a one pissed off territorial badger, chased after for miles by an even pissed off bear.
Come the beginning of his 3rd week out of Walnut Grove his horse he had pertained to call Tonto started flipping out. Raising up some and acting really goofy. August was not amused and ended up being very wary. He wished his internal Device had some sort of ability to see things he himself might not see, or at least identify them, or something. He was at length able to calm the horse down, August strained to identify and listen for himself what had scared Tonto. He figured either a snake or Indians. Either one he was not cool with. Both were deadly, vicious, and deadly. 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, lurking, listening and stopping briefly . In one hand he bared a Colt revolver, the other hand a Bowie knife. He had a Springfield rifle with the horse.
August made a couple of more stalwart prowlings and finally came upon a male. Flies were currently swarming and so August assumed that the guy had actually been dead there for some time. He wasn't going to be alive for very much longer, August had no way of reaching any physician. Compliance was not exactly complied to rapidly, the two teens did their finest to bring and stall on-- requiring Dakota to once more 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 kid used was ripped down and the barrel of the six-shooter stuffed into the lad's hole. Nothing was said. Absolutely nothing required saying, 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 anus, 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 had to come and place himself on the table and place his dick into her mouth. The ordeal was unbelievable. If he weren't so ruthless, Dakota was August's kind of man. With the six-shooter, Arlene was promptly odorized. She was further sodomized with Dakota's cock. He knocked her deeply and non-stop till 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 horrible 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 mocked and pushed his gangly ultra-funky dick up against the young boy's face-- Or you SUCK my cock!
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