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There was the realization that he might have just as well stuck with the Ingalls, to see how everything worked out after all. But he had actually had his fill and it was time to carry on, perhaps 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 as to how the Device ended up in his noggin' anyhow! There was nought to deal but do with it, possibly find some of his old loved ones, 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 understood 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 careful and leery and on guard-- Indians were still magnificent unclear and bandits wandered the wildlands, too.
A mountain path took him up into some rough nation, he spent a week just meandering around, discovering a couple of roaming cattle he helped himself to some fresh steak. It was a little gross and he figured out that in the future he would simply 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 entire. His own grub was getting sparse, the weather turning on him the greater he went, however he wanted to get up and over the mountain ridge and down into new territory he assumed would be one of the Dakotas, or possibly Iowa, perhaps even Nebraska, he wasn't sure. His horse was not authorizing of the weather change or the insistence of continuing the futile adventure. August had to agree-- 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.
August was not amused and ended up being extremely cautious. He wished his internal Device had some sort of ability to see things he himself might not see, or at least find them, or something. He was at length able to soothe the horse down, August strained to discover and listen for himself what had alarmed Tonto. He figured either a snake or Indians. Either one he was not cool with. Both were deadly, vicious, and lethal. He desired 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 pests buzzing. Nothing stirred. August made a few more stalwart prowlings and lastly came upon a male. Putting down vulnerable upon the ground with a substantial bloodstain on his behind. He didn't have any boots on, either. Flies were currently swarming and so August assumed that the man had been dead there for some time. Thoroughly August took out of the rough and as much as where the man lay. To his surprise, the man was still in fact alive. Barely. He had been shot in the chest and had lost a great deal of blood. He wasn't going to live for quite longer, August had no chance of reaching any medical professional. The boy's ass muscles flexed as he made every effort NOT to pump into his cousin's mouth. Arlene retched, gagged, choked, and almost vomited as she slurped on the two cocks, the balls and too licked up Mark's crack. Arlene then had to go back to the table and lay on it with her legs widened, hands to her side. Mark then needed 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 bring 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. Absolutely nothing was said. Absolutely nothing required 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 boy's anus, sodomizing him perfectly. His other hand he held 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 needed to come and position himself on the table and insert his dick into her mouth. The experience was extraordinary. If he weren't so callous, Dakota was August's kind of male. She was further sodomized with Dakota's dick. 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 pressed his face into Arlene's tormented ass-- Lick it tidy! Dakota sneered. When Mark resisted to the horrible job of licking Arlene's cum loaded asshole, Dakota then just wrench the lad into a brand-new position-- Either you fuckin' lick HER hole tidy-- he mocked and shoved his gangly ultra-funky cock up against the young boy's face-- Or you SUCK my cock!
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