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There was the realization that he might have just as well remained with the Ingalls, to see how it all worked out. He had actually 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 was still mystified regarding how the Device ended up in his noggin' anyhow! There was nought to do however deal with it, possibly locate some of his old family members, discover his great-great-great grandmother 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 location 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 careful and on guard-- Indians were still magnificent uncertain and bandits strolled the wildlands, too.
A mountain path took him up into some rough country, he invested a week simply meandering around, discovering a few stray cattle he helped himself to some fresh steak. It was a little gross and he identified that in the future he would simply buy one from a dining establishment. 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, as well. When the first snows began to fall his ideas rested exclusively on the Ingalls. A great warm fire, a bed, hot soup, cornbread, fresh milk. His own grub was getting sporadic, the weather condition switching on him the higher he went, however he wished 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. Quickly the days got as cold as the nights. His horse was not authorizing of the weather change or the insistence of continuing the useless adventure. August had to agree-- he was getting nowhere fast. The mountain path seemed to wind on and on and on permanently. He struck off on another path that allegedly led downward. Now he was completely lost. Another week went by, he ran afoul 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.
Come the start of his 3rd week out from Walnut Grove his horse he had concerned call Tonto started going crazy. Rearing up some and acting very goofy. August was not amused and became extremely wary. He wanted his internal Device had some sort of ability to see items he himself could not see, or a minimum of 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 startled Tonto. He desired 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, lurking, 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 few more stalwart prowlings and lastly came upon a man. Flies were currently swarming and so August assumed that the male 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 doctor. Compliance was not exactly complied to rapidly, the two teens did their best 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 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 crammed into the lad's hole. Nothing was said. Nothing required saying, 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 kid's anus, sodomizing him perfectly. 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 insert his cock into her mouth. The experience was extraordinary. If he weren't so callous, Dakota was August's kind of man. With the six-shooter, Arlene was immediately odorized. She was more sodomized with Dakota's cock. He knocked her deeply and non-stop till he might go no more. There was nothing but still silence in the shack, only 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 pushed his face into Arlene's tormented ass-- Lick it tidy! Dakota sneered. When Mark fought back to the revolting task of licking Arlene's cum packed asshole, Dakota then simply wrench the lad into a new position-- Either you fuckin' lick HER hole clean-- he mocked and shoved his gangly ultra-funky dick up against the boy's face-- Or you SUCK my dick!
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