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There was the realization that he might have just as well stuck with the Ingalls, to see how it all exercised after all. He had had his fill and it was time to move on, possibly mosey down to St. Louis, New Orleans, or Arizona. Strongly he felt that getting back home in 2000 was a no-go. It wasn't going to occur. He knew his location relatively 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 smart to be hesitant and wary and on guard-- Indians were still magnificent uncertain and outlaws roamed the wildlands, too.
A mountain course took him up into some rough nation, he invested a week just meandering around, finding a couple of stray livestock 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 restaurant. Fishing was much better and he nailed one deer. Living in the rough was alright, he did miss out on the Ingalls' hospitality, Walnut Grove as a entire. His own grub was getting sporadic, 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 assumed would be one of the Dakotas, or perhaps Iowa, maybe even Nebraska, he wasn't sure. His horse was not approving of the weather condition change or the persistence of continuing the useless adventure. August had to concur-- he was getting nowhere fast. Another week went by, he ran afoul of a one pissed off territorial badger, chased for miles by an even pissed off bear.
Come the beginning of his 3rd week out of Walnut Grove his horse he had come to call Tonto began flipping out. Raising up some and acting very wacky. August was not amused and ended up being really cautious. He wished his internal Device had some sort of ability to see things he himself could not see, or a minimum of identify them, or something. He was at length able to calm the horse down, August strained to identify and listen for himself what had spooked Tonto. He figured either a snake or Indians. Either one he was not cool with. Both were fatal, vicious, and fatal. He wanted no part of either among them. After backing his horse up a bit and protecting him to a bush August slipped off into the rough, lurking, pausing 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 nothing to hear however bugs buzzing. Nothing stirred. August made a few more stalwart prowlings and finally came upon a man. Laying down prone upon the ground with a big bloodstain on his backside. He didn't have any boots on, either. Flies were already swarming therefore August presumed that the man had been dead there for a long time. Thoroughly August stole out of the rough and approximately where the man lay. To his surprise, the man was still really alive. Barely. He had actually been shot in the chest and had 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 young boy's ass muscles bent as he aimed NOT to pump into his cousin's mouth. Arlene retched, gagged, choked, and almost threw up as she slurped on the two cocks, the balls and as well licked up Mark's fracture. 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 rapidly, the two teens did their best to stall and carry on-- requiring Dakota to once 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 young boy used was ripped down and the barrel of the six-shooter stuffed into the lad's hole. Nothing was said. Nothing needed stating, 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 anus, 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 position himself on the table and place his cock into her mouth. The ordeal was extraordinary. Dakota was August's type of man if he weren't so ruthless. She was additional sodomized with Dakota's cock. There was absolutely nothing but still silence in the shack, just 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 clean! Dakota sneered. When Mark resisted to the horrible job of licking Arlene's orgasm laden 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 boy's face-- Or you SUCK my cock!
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