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There was the realization that he could have just as well stayed with the Ingalls, to see how all of it worked out after all. However he had had his fill and it was time to proceed, maybe 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 regarding how the Device ended up in his noggin' anyhow! There was nought to deal but do with it, perhaps find some of his old loved ones, find his great-great-great grandmother when she was hot and young and score with her! That 'd screw up the timeline for sure! He knew his geography relatively 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 wise to be wary and hesitant and on guard-- Indians were still mighty unclear and bandits wandered the wildlands, too.
A mountain path took him up into some rough country, he invested a week just meandering around, discovering a few stray livestock he assisted himself to some fresh steak. It was a little gross and he figured out that in the future he would just buy one from a dining establishment. Fishing was better and he nailed one deer. Living in the rough was alright, he did miss the Ingalls' hospitality, Walnut Grove as a entire. His own grub was getting sparse, the weather condition turning 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 one of the Dakotas, or potentially Iowa, maybe even Nebraska, he wasn't sure. Quickly the days got as cold as the nights. His horse was not approving of the weather condition modification or the persistence of continuing the useless adventure. August needed to concur-- he was getting nowhere quick. The mountain path appeared 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 went by, he contravened of a one pissed off territorial badger, chased 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 entertained and became very wary. He wished his internal Device had some sort of capability to see things he himself might not see, or at least spot them, or something. He was at length able to soothe the horse down, August strained to listen and spot for himself what had actually alarmed Tonto. He figured either a snake or Indians. Either one he was not cool with. Both were lethal, vicious, and lethal. He wanted no part of either among 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.
There was nothing to hear but insects buzzing. Absolutely nothing stirred. August made a couple of more stalwart prowlings and finally came upon a man. Laying down susceptible upon the ground with a substantial bloodstain on his backside. He didn't have any boots on, either. Flies were currently swarming and so August assumed that the man had actually been dead there for a long time. Carefully August took out of the rough and as much as where the man lay. To his surprise, the man was still really alive. But barely. He had actually been shot in the chest and had lost a lot of blood. He wasn't going to live for quite longer, August had no way of reaching any medical professional. The kid's ass muscles bent as he aimed NOT to pump into his cousin's mouth. Arlene retched, gagged, choked, and nearly threw up as she slurped on the two cocks, the balls and also licked up Mark's fracture. Arlene then had to return 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 carry and stall 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 boy wore was ripped down and the barrel of the six-shooter stuffed into the lad's hole. Absolutely nothing was said. Nothing required saying, Mark went to his knees, parted his cousin's cunny lips and continued in noshing. Dakota worked the barrel of the weapon deeper into the young kid's anus, sodomizing him nicely. His other hand he held on to the lad's hair, holding it up tightly, 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 then 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 cock into her mouth. The ordeal was extraordinary. Dakota was August's kind of guy if he weren't so ruthless. With the six-shooter, Arlene was quickly odorized. She was additional sodomized with Dakota's cock. He slammed her deeply and relentlessly 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 versus 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 revolting task of licking Arlene's orgasm packed 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 dick up against the boy's face-- Or you SUCK my dick!
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