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There was the awareness 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, maybe 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 happen. He was still mystified regarding how the Device ended up in his noggin' anyhow! There was nought to do however deal with it, possibly find a few of his old loved ones, discover his great-great-great grandma when she was young and hot and rating with her! That 'd screw up the timeline for sure! He knew 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 cautious and wary and on guard-- Indians were still mighty unsettled and bandits roamed the wildlands, too.

A mountain path took him up into some rough nation, he invested a week simply meandering around, discovering a couple of stray livestock he assisted himself to some fresh steak. It was a little gross and he identified 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. When the very first snows started to fall his thoughts rested exclusively on the Ingalls. A nice warm fire, a bed, hot soup, cornbread, fresh milk. His own grub was getting sparse, the weather switching 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 among the Dakotas, or potentially Iowa, perhaps even Nebraska, he wasn't sure. His horse was not approving of the weather condition modification or the insistence of continuing the useless adventure. August had to agree-- he was getting nowhere 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.

Come the beginning of his 3rd week out from Walnut Grove his horse he had actually pertained to call Tonto began flipping out. Raising up some and acting extremely goofy. August was not entertained and ended up being extremely cautious. He wished his internal Device had some sort of capability to see things he himself could not see, or at least identify them, or something. He was at length able to relax the horse down, August strained to listen and spot for himself what had spooked Tonto. He figured either a snake or Indians. Either one he was not cool with. Both were lethal, vicious, and deadly. He desired 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, 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 male. Flies were already swarming and so August assumed that the man had been dead there for some time. He wasn't going to be alive for extremely much longer, August had no way of reaching any medical professional. Compliance was not precisely complied to rapidly, the two teens did their best to carry 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 trousers were down and he was bent over Dakota's knee, the trap door of the long underwear the young boy wore was ripped down and the barrel of the six-shooter stuffed into the lad's hole. Absolutely nothing was said. Nothing needed 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 anus, sodomizing him perfectly. His other hand he held on to the lad's hair, holding it up tightly, requiring him to view as cousin Mark mounted 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 had to come and place himself on the table and insert his dick into her mouth. The experience was incredible. Dakota was August's kind of man if he weren't so ruthless. With the six-shooter, Arlene was without delay odorized. She was additional sodomized with Dakota's cock. He slammed her deeply and relentlessly up until he could go no more. There was nothing but still silence in the shack, just the crackling fire in the slapping and the fireplace balls against Arlene's ass made the only noise. 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 disgusting task of licking Arlene's orgasm packed asshole, Dakota then just wrench the lad into a new position-- Either you fuckin' lick HER hole tidy-- he mocked and pushed his gangly ultra-funky cock up against the young boy's face-- Or you SUCK my dick!

 

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