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There was the realization that he could have just as well stuck with the Ingalls, to see how it all worked out after all. He had had his fill and it was time to move on, maybe 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 happen. He was still mystified regarding how the Device ended up in his noggin' anyhow! There was nought to deal however do with it, maybe find a few of his old family members, find his great-great-great granny when she was young and hot and rating with her! That 'd screw 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 a good idea to be careful and leery and on guard-- Indians were still mighty uncertain and outlaws wandered the wildlands, too.
A mountain path took him up into some rough country, he spent a week simply meandering around, discovering a couple of stray cattle he helped himself to some fresh steak. It was a little gross and he identified that in the future he would simply order one from a restaurant. Fishing was much 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 sporadic, the weather turning on him the higher 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 potentially Iowa, maybe even Nebraska, he wasn't sure. His horse was not approving of the weather condition modification or the insistence of continuing the futile experience. August had to concur-- he was getting nowhere fast. Another week went by, he ran afoul of a one pissed off territorial badger, gone after for miles by an even pissed off bear.
Come the start of his 3rd week out from Walnut Grove his horse he had actually concerned call Tonto began going crazy. Raising up some and acting very silly. August was not amused and became very cautious. He wanted his internal Device had some sort of ability to see things he himself might not see, or a minimum of spot them, or something. He was at length able to soothe the horse down, August strained to listen and discover for himself what had startled Tonto. He figured either a snake or Indians. Either one he was not cool with. Both were lethal, vicious, and fatal. He wanted no part of either one of them. After backing his horse up a bit and protecting him to a bush August slid off into the rough, prowling, 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.
August made a few more stalwart prowlings and lastly came upon a male. Flies were already swarming and so August assumed that the guy had actually been dead there for some time. He wasn't going to be alive for really much longer, August had no way of reaching any doctor. Compliance was not precisely complied to quickly, the two teens did their finest to stall and carry on-- requiring 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 young boy wore was ripped down and the barrel of the six-shooter stuffed into the lad's hole. Nothing was stated. Nothing needed stating, 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 rectum, sodomizing him well. 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 place himself on the table and insert his dick into her mouth. The experience was incredible. Dakota was August's kind of guy if he weren't so callous. With the six-shooter, Arlene was promptly odorized. She was further sodomized with Dakota's dick. He knocked her deeply and relentlessly till he might 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 pushed his face into Arlene's tormented ass-- Lick it clean! Dakota sneered. When Mark fought back to the disgusting task of licking Arlene's cum packed asshole, Dakota then just wrench the lad into a new position-- Either you fuckin' lick HER hole clean-- he jeered and pushed his gangly ultra-funky cock up against the young boy's face-- Or you SUCK my dick!
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