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There was the awareness that he might have just as well stayed with the Ingalls, to see how it all worked out. But he had had his fill and it was time to carry on, perhaps mosey down to St. Louis, New Orleans, or Arizona. Highly he felt that returning home in 2000 was a no-go. It wasn't going to occur. He was still mystified as to how the Device ended up in his noggin' anyways! There was nought to deal but do with it, perhaps find some of his old family members, discover his great-great-great grandmother when she was hot and young and score with her! That 'd mess up the timeline for sure! He knew his location fairly well, the location of 2000, the location of 1875 he was a little fuzzy on. And beings that it WAS 1875, Old West, it was smart to be cautious and leery and on guard-- Indians were still magnificent unclear and bandits strolled the wildlands, too.
A mountain path took him up into some rough country, he spent a week simply meandering around, finding a few stray livestock he assisted himself to some fresh steak. It was a little gross and he determined that in the future he would just buy one from a restaurant. 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. His own grub was getting sparse, the weather condition turning on him the higher he went, however he desired to get up and over the mountain ridge and down into brand-new territory he presumed would be one of the Dakotas, or possibly Iowa, perhaps even Nebraska, he wasn't sure. Quickly the days got as cold as the nights. His horse was not approving of the weather change or the persistence of continuing the futile experience. August needed to concur-- he was getting nowhere quickly. The mountain path seemed to wind on and on and on forever. He struck off on another path that apparently led downward. Now he was totally lost. Another week went by, he ran afoul of a one pissed off territorial badger, gone after for miles by an even pissed off bear. He fell versus a rock and bruised some ribs, clunked his head and understood that he had a concussion.
August was not amused and became very careful. He wished his internal Device had some sort of capability to see items he himself might not see, or at least identify them, or something. He was at length able to calm the horse down, August strained to listen and spot for himself what had actually scared Tonto. He desired no part of either one of them. After backing his horse up a bit and protecting him to a bush August slipped off into the rough, prowling, listening and stopping briefly . 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 lastly came upon a guy. Flies were already swarming and so August presumed that the male had actually been dead there for some time. He wasn't going to be alive for really much longer, August had no way of reaching any physician. Compliance was not precisely complied to rapidly, the two teenagers did their finest to stall and carry 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 kid used was ripped down and the barrel of the six-shooter packed into the lad's hole. Nothing was said. Absolutely nothing needed stating, Mark went to his knees, parted his cousin's cunny lips and proceeded in noshing. Dakota worked the barrel of the gun deeper into the young boy's rectum, sodomizing him well. His other hand he held on to the lad's hair, holding it up securely, requiring him to see as cousin Mark mounted 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 needed to come and place himself on the table and place his cock into her mouth. The ordeal was unbelievable. Dakota was August's sort of male if he weren't so ruthless. With the six-shooter, Arlene was without delay odorized. She was further sodomized with Dakota's dick. He slammed her deeply and non-stop up until he could go no more. There was nothing but still silence in the shack, only 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 pushed his face into Arlene's tormented ass-- Lick it tidy! Dakota sneered. When Mark resisted to the revolting task of licking Arlene's cum packed asshole, Dakota then just wrench the lad into a new position-- Either you fuckin' lick HER hole clean-- he mocked and shoved his gangly ultra-funky cock up against the kid's face-- Or you SUCK my cock!
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