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There was the realization that he might have just as well stuck with the Ingalls, to see how everything worked out after all. But he had actually had his fill and it was time to carry on, possibly 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 happen. He was still mystified regarding how the Device ended up in his noggin' anyways! There was nought to do however deal with it, maybe 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 knew his location relatively well, the location of 2000, the geography 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 wary and on guard-- Indians were still mighty unsettled and bandits strolled the wildlands, too.
A mountain path took him up into some rough country, he invested a week simply meandering around, finding a few roaming cattle he assisted himself to some fresh steak. It was a little gross and he identified that in the future he would just buy one from a dining establishment. Fishing was much 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 brand-new territory he assumed would be one of the Dakotas, or perhaps Iowa, perhaps even Nebraska, he wasn't sure. His horse was not authorizing of the weather change or the persistence of continuing the useless experience. August had to concur-- he was getting no place fast. Another week went by, he ran afoul of a one pissed off territorial badger, gone after for miles by an even pissed off bear.
August was not amused and became very cautious. He wished his internal Device had some sort of capability 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 listen and spot 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 slipped off into the rough, lurking, listening and pausing . 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. Nothing stirred. August made a couple of more stalwart prowlings and finally encountered a male. Setting susceptible upon the ground with a huge bloodstain on his behind. He didn't have any boots on, either. Flies were already swarming therefore August presumed that the man had actually been dead there for some time. Thoroughly August took out of the rough and approximately where the man lay. To his surprise, the man was still in fact alive. Barely. He had actually 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 chance of reaching any doctor. The boy'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 dicks, the balls and too licked up Mark's crack. Arlene then needed to go back to the table and lay on it with her legs opened wide, 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 stall and bring 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 young boy used was ripped down and the barrel of the six-shooter packed into the lad's hole. Absolutely nothing was stated. Nothing needed stating, Mark went to his knees, parted his cousin's cunny lips and continued in noshing. Dakota worked the barrel of the gun deeper into the young boy's rectum, sodomizing him perfectly. His other hand he hung on to the lad's hair, holding it up tightly, forcing him to see 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 place himself on the table and insert his cock into her mouth. The ordeal was incredible. Dakota was August's sort of male if he weren't so callous. She was more sodomized with Dakota's cock. There was nothing but still silence in the shack, only the crackling fire in the slapping and the fireplace 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 fought back to the horrible task of licking Arlene's orgasm packed asshole, Dakota then simply wrench the lad into a brand-new position-- Either you fuckin' lick HER hole tidy-- he mocked and pushed his gangly ultra-funky cock up against the boy's face-- Or you SUCK my cock!
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