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There was the realization that he could have simply 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 returning home in 2000 was a no-go. It wasn't going to occur. He was still mystified regarding how the Device wound up in his noggin' anyways! There was nought to deal however do with it, perhaps find some of his old loved ones, find his great-great-great granny when she was young and hot and rating with her! That 'd mess up the timeline for sure! He understood 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 leery and cautious and on guard-- Indians were still magnificent uncertain and outlaws wandered the wildlands, too.
A mountain course took him up into some rough country, he spent a week simply meandering around, discovering a couple of roaming livestock he helped himself to some fresh steak. It was a little gross and he identified that in the future he would simply purchase one from a restaurant. 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. His own grub was getting sporadic, the weather condition turning on him the higher he went, but he desired to get up and over the mountain ridge and down into new territory he assumed would be one of the Dakotas, or possibly Iowa, maybe even Nebraska, he wasn't sure. His horse was not approving of the weather modification or the insistence of continuing the useless adventure. August had to concur-- he was getting no place quick. 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 concerned call Tonto started going nuts. Raising up some and acting extremely goofy. August was not amused and ended up being extremely careful. He wanted his internal Device had some sort of capability to see things he himself might not see, or at least identify them, or something. He was at length able to calm the horse down, August strained to listen and identify for himself what had actually spooked 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 among them. After backing his horse up a bit and securing him to a bush August slipped off into the rough, prowling, 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.
There was absolutely nothing to hear but bugs buzzing. Absolutely nothing stirred. August made a few more stalwart prowlings and lastly encountered a male. Laying down susceptible upon the ground with a substantial bloodstain on his behind. He didn't have any boots on, either. Flies were already swarming and so August presumed that the man had actually been dead there for some time. Carefully August stole out of the rough and approximately where the man lay. To his surprise, the man was still really alive. Barely. He had been shot in the chest and had lost a great deal of blood. He wasn't going to be alive for very much longer, August had no way of reaching any physician. The young boy's ass muscles flexed as he strove NOT to pump into his cousin's mouth. Arlene retched, gagged, choked, and nearly threw up as she slurped on the two dicks, the balls and as well licked up Mark's crack. Arlene then needed to return 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 rapidly, the two teens did their best to stall and bring 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 wore was ripped down and the barrel of the six-shooter packed 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 boy's rectum, sodomizing him perfectly. His other hand he held on to the lad's hair, holding it up securely, forcing him to enjoy 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 then made her suck on the barrel.
Arlene was ruthlessly wrenched over and spanked hard, Mark needed to come and place himself on the table and place his dick into her mouth. The ordeal was amazing. If he weren't so callous, Dakota was August's kind of man. She was additional sodomized with Dakota's cock. 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 pushed his face into Arlene's tormented ass-- Lick it tidy! Dakota sneered. When Mark resisted to the revolting task of licking Arlene's cum packed asshole, Dakota then simply wrench the lad into a brand-new position-- Either you fuckin' lick HER hole tidy-- he jeered and shoved his gangly ultra-funky dick up against the boy's face-- Or you SUCK my dick!
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