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Brothels Bothenhampton DT6

 

There was the realization that he might have just as well stayed with the Ingalls, to see how it all worked out. However he had had his fill and it was time to move on, possibly 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 take place. He was still mystified regarding how the Device wound up in his noggin' anyhow! There was nought to do however deal with it, possibly find some of his old family members, find his great-great-great grandmother when she was young and hot and score with her! That 'd mess up the timeline for sure! He understood his geography fairly 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 careful and on guard-- Indians were still magnificent unsettled and bandits strolled the wildlands, too.

A mountain course took him up into some rough country, he spent a week simply meandering around, discovering a few roaming livestock he helped himself to some fresh steak. It was a little gross and he figured out that in the future he would simply 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 entire. His own grub was getting sporadic, the weather condition turning on him the higher he went, but he wanted to get up and over the mountain ridge and down into new area he presumed would be one of the Dakotas, or perhaps Iowa, maybe even Nebraska, he wasn't sure. His horse was not approving of the weather change or the insistence of continuing the futile 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, gone after for miles by an even pissed off bear.

Come the beginning of his 3rd week out from Walnut Grove his horse he had actually come to call Tonto began 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 items he himself might not see, or at least discover them, or something. He was at length able to calm the horse down, August strained to discover and listen for himself what had spooked Tonto. He wanted 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, 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.

There was absolutely nothing to hear but bugs buzzing. Nothing stirred. August made a couple of more stalwart prowlings and lastly came upon a guy. Laying down vulnerable upon the ground with a big bloodstain on his backside. He didn't have any boots on, either. Flies were currently swarming and so August assumed that the man had been dead there for a long time. Carefully August stole out of the rough and approximately where the man lay. To his surprise, the man was still really alive. Hardly. He had been shot in the chest and had actually lost a great deal of blood. He wasn't going to be alive for very much longer, August had no other way of reaching any doctor. The boy'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 as well licked up Mark's fracture. Arlene then needed to return 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 quickly, the two teens did their finest to bring 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 boy used was ripped down and the barrel of the six-shooter packed into the lad's hole. Nothing was said. Absolutely 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 kid's rectum, sodomizing him nicely. 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 insert his cock into her mouth. The experience 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 additional sodomized with Dakota's cock. He knocked her deeply and non-stop until he could go no more. There was nothing but still silence in the shack, only the crackling fire in the fireplace and the slapping balls versus Arlene's ass made the only sound. 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 resisted to the revolting job 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 pushed his gangly ultra-funky cock up against the boy's face-- Or you SUCK my dick!

 

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