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There was the awareness that he might have just as well stayed with the Ingalls, to see how it all exercised after all. He had had his fill and it was time to move 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 take place. He was still mystified regarding how the Device ended up in his noggin' anyways! There was nought to do but deal with it, possibly locate some of his old family members, find his great-great-great grandma when she was young and hot and rating with her! That 'd mess up the timeline for sure! He understood his geography relatively 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 wise to be wary and wary and on guard-- Indians were still mighty uncertain and outlaws strolled the wildlands, too.
A mountain path took him up into some rough country, he spent a week just meandering around, discovering a couple of stray livestock he helped 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. When the first snows started to fall his thoughts rested entirely on the Ingalls. A nice 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 wished to get up and over the mountain ridge and down into new area he assumed would be among the Dakotas, or perhaps Iowa, maybe even Nebraska, he wasn't sure. His horse was not authorizing of the weather modification or the persistence of continuing the futile adventure. August had to concur-- he was getting no place fast. Another week went by, he ran afoul of a one pissed off territorial badger, chased after for miles by an even pissed off bear.
August was not amused and ended up being very careful. He wanted his internal Device had some sort of ability to see items he himself might not see, or at least detect them, or something. He was at length able to calm the horse down, August strained to listen and find 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 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, 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. Nothing stirred. August made a couple of more stalwart prowlings and finally encountered a male. Laying down vulnerable upon the ground with a huge bloodstain on his behind. He didn't have any boots on, either. Flies were currently swarming and so August presumed that the man had actually been dead there for some time. Carefully August took out of the rough and up to where the man lay. To his surprise, the man was still in fact alive. Barely. He had been shot in the chest and had actually lost a lot of blood. He wasn't going to live for very much longer, August had no way of reaching any doctor. 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 vomited as she slurped on the two cocks, the balls and as well licked up Mark's crack. Arlene then had to go back to the table and lay on it with her legs opened wide, hands to her side. Mark then had to go to her, on his knees, and lick her. Compliance was not precisely complied to quickly, the two teens did their finest to carry and stall on-- forcing Dakota to once more 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 young boy used was ripped down and the barrel of the six-shooter crammed into the lad's hole. Absolutely nothing was said. Nothing needed saying, Mark went to his knees, parted his cousin's cunny lips and continued in noshing. Dakota worked the barrel of the gun deeper into the young kid's anus, sodomizing him nicely. His other hand he held on to the lad's hair, holding it up securely, requiring him to view as cousin Mark installed Arlene and entered her. STANDING 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 had to come and place himself on the table and place his dick into her mouth. The ordeal 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 against 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 horrible 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 clean-- he mocked and shoved his gangly ultra-funky cock up against the boy's face-- Or you SUCK my dick!
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