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There was the realization that he could have just as well stuck with the Ingalls, to see how everything exercised after all. He had actually had his fill and it was time to move on, perhaps mosey down to St. Louis, New Orleans, or Arizona. Highly he felt that getting back home in 2000 was a no-go. It wasn't going to take place. He understood his geography fairly 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 hesitant and cautious and on guard-- Indians were still mighty unsettled and outlaws roamed the wildlands, too.
A mountain path took him up into some rough nation, he spent a week simply meandering around, discovering 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 simply order 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 turning on him the higher 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, maybe even Nebraska, he wasn't sure. Soon the days got as cold as the nights. His horse was not authorizing of the weather modification or the persistence of continuing the futile experience. August needed to agree-- he was getting nowhere fast. The mountain path appeared to wind on and on and on forever. So he struck off on another path that apparently led downward. Now he was completely lost. Another week passed, he contravened 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 understood that he had a concussion.
August was not amused and became really cautious. He wanted his internal Device had some sort of capability to see things he himself might not see, or at least discover them, or something. He was at length able to soothe the horse down, August strained to listen and spot for himself what had actually scared Tonto. He figured either a snake or Indians. Either one he was not cool with. Both were fatal, vicious, and lethal. He desired 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, prowling, 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.
August made a few more stalwart prowlings and lastly came upon a guy. Flies were already swarming and so August presumed that the guy had been dead there for some time. He wasn't going to be alive for really much longer, August had no way of reaching any medical professional. Compliance was not precisely complied to quickly, the two teens did their best to stall and bring on-- forcing Dakota to again grab a holt of Adam's young head and wrench him upwards ... then in a flash the lad's wool trousers 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. Absolutely nothing was stated. Nothing needed 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 kid's rectum, sodomizing him perfectly. His other hand he hung on to the lad's hair, holding it up tightly, forcing him to watch as cousin Mark installed 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 had to come and position himself on the table and place his dick into her mouth. The experience was incredible. Dakota was August's kind of male if he weren't so ruthless. With the six-shooter, Arlene was promptly odorized. She was further sodomized with Dakota's cock. He knocked her deeply and relentlessly up until he might go no more. There was nothing but still silence in the shack, just 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 pressed 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 loaded asshole, Dakota then just wrench the lad into a new position-- Either you fuckin' lick HER hole tidy-- he jeered and pushed his gangly ultra-funky dick up against the kid's face-- Or you SUCK my dick!
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