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Brothels Bratton TF5

 

There was the realization that he could have just as well stayed with the Ingalls, to see how everything worked out 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. Strongly he felt that getting back home in 2000 was a no-go. It wasn't going to happen. He was still mystified as to how the Device ended up in his noggin' anyways! There was nought to do however deal with it, perhaps find some of his old relatives, find his great-great-great grandma when she was hot and young and score with her! That 'd screw up the timeline for sure! He knew his location 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 wise to be careful and wary and on guard-- Indians were still magnificent unsettled and outlaws strolled 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 livestock he helped himself to some fresh steak. It was a little gross and he determined that in the future he would just purchase 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 whole. When the first snows started to fall his ideas rested entirely on the Ingalls. A good warm fire, a bed, hot soup, cornbread, fresh milk. His own grub was getting sporadic, the weather switching on him the greater he went, however he wanted to get up and over the mountain ridge and down into new area he assumed would be among the Dakotas, or possibly Iowa, maybe even Nebraska, he wasn't sure. Quickly the days got as cold as the nights. His horse was not authorizing of the weather modification or the insistence of continuing the useless adventure. August had to concur-- he was getting nowhere quickly. The mountain course seemed to wind on and on and on forever. He struck off on another course that supposedly led downward. Now he was completely lost. Another week passed, he ran afoul of a one pissed off territorial badger, gone after for miles by an even pissed off bear. He fell against a rock and bruised some ribs, clunked his head and knew that he had a concussion.

August was not amused and ended up being very cautious. He wanted his internal Device had some sort of capability to see objects he himself could not see, or at least discover them, or something. He was at length able to soothe the horse down, August strained to identify and listen for himself what had actually 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 slinked 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 couple of more stalwart prowlings and finally came upon a guy. Flies were currently swarming and so August presumed that the male had been dead there for some time. He wasn't going to be alive for very much longer, August had no way of reaching any medical professional. Compliance was not precisely complied to quickly, the two teens did their finest to bring and stall on-- requiring Dakota to once again get 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 wore was ripped down and the barrel of the six-shooter crammed into the lad's hole. Absolutely nothing was stated. Absolutely nothing required saying, 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 anus, sodomizing him nicely. His other hand he hung on to the lad's hair, holding it up tightly, forcing him to view 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 place himself on the table and insert his cock into her mouth. The ordeal was incredible. If he weren't so callous, Dakota was August's kind of guy. She was more sodomized with Dakota's dick. There was 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 pushed his face into Arlene's tormented ass-- Lick it tidy! Dakota sneered. When Mark fought back to the disgusting job of licking Arlene's orgasm laden asshole, Dakota then just wrench the lad into a brand-new position-- Either you fuckin' lick HER hole clean-- he jeered and shoved his gangly ultra-funky dick up against the kid's face-- Or you SUCK my cock!

 

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