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There was the realization that he could have simply as well stayed with the Ingalls, to see how it all worked out. 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 getting back home in 2000 was a no-go. It wasn't going to happen. He was still mystified regarding how the Device wound up in his noggin' anyways! There was nought to do however deal with it, perhaps locate a few of his old loved ones, discover his great-great-great granny when she was hot and young and rating with her! That 'd screw up the timeline for sure! He understood 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 leery and wary and on guard-- Indians were still magnificent unsettled and outlaws roamed the wildlands, too.

A mountain course took him up into some rough nation, he spent a week just meandering around, discovering a few stray cattle he assisted himself to some fresh steak. It was a little gross and he figured out that in the future he would just order 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 whole, as well. When the first snows began to fall his ideas rested entirely on the Ingalls. A great warm fire, a bed, hot soup, cornbread, fresh milk. His own grub was getting sparse, the weather switching on him the higher he went, however he wanted to get up and over the mountain ridge and down into brand-new territory he assumed would be one of the Dakotas, or potentially Iowa, maybe even Nebraska, he wasn't sure. His horse was not authorizing of the weather modification or the insistence of continuing the useless experience. August had to agree-- he was getting no place fast. Another week went by, he ran afoul of a one pissed off territorial badger, chased for miles by an even pissed off bear.

Come the beginning of his 3rd week out from Walnut Grove his horse he had actually pertained to call Tonto started freaking out. Raising up some and acting really goofy. August was not entertained and became very careful. 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 relax the horse down, August strained to listen and find for himself what had alarmed Tonto. He figured either a snake or Indians. Either one he was not cool with. Both were fatal, vicious, and lethal. 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 pausing . 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 pests buzzing. Nothing stirred. August made a few more stalwart prowlings and lastly came across a male. Setting vulnerable upon the ground with a huge bloodstain on his backside. 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. Carefully August stole out of the rough and as much as where the man lay. To his surprise, the man was still actually alive. However barely. He had been shot in the chest and had actually lost a lot of blood. He wasn't going to live for quite longer, August had no way of reaching any physician. The kid's ass muscles bent as he made every effort 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 crack. Arlene then had to return to the table and lay on it with her legs widened, hands to her side. Mark then had to go to her, on his knees, and lick her. Compliance was not exactly complied to rapidly, the two teenagers did their best to carry and stall on-- forcing Dakota to once again grab 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 used was ripped down and the barrel of the six-shooter packed into the lad's hole. Nothing was stated. Absolutely 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 nicely. STANDING on Mark's back Dakota took his turn and fucking young Arlene.

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 experience was amazing. Dakota was August's kind of guy if he weren't so ruthless. With the six-shooter, Arlene was immediately odorized. She was further 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, only 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 tidy! Dakota sneered. When Mark resisted to the horrible job of licking Arlene's cum packed asshole, Dakota then merely wrench the lad into a new position-- Either you fuckin' lick HER hole tidy-- he mocked and pushed his gangly ultra-funky cock up against the boy's face-- Or you SUCK my dick!

 

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