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There was the awareness that he could have just 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, 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 occur. He was still mystified as to how the Device wound up in his noggin' anyhow! There was nought to do but deal with it, perhaps locate some of his old family members, discover his great-great-great grandma when she was hot and young and rating with her! That 'd screw up the timeline for sure! He knew his location fairly well, the location of 2000, the geography of 1875 he was a little fuzzy on. And beings that it WAS 1875, Old West, it was smart to be hesitant and cautious and on guard-- Indians were still mighty uncertain and outlaws wandered the wildlands, too.
A mountain course took him up into some rough country, he spent a week simply meandering around, finding a few roaming cattle he assisted 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 the Ingalls' hospitality, Walnut Grove as a whole. His own grub was getting sporadic, the weather condition turning on him the greater he went, however he desired to get up and over the mountain ridge and down into brand-new territory he assumed would be one of the Dakotas, or possibly Iowa, possibly even Nebraska, he wasn't sure. Quickly the days got as cold as the nights. His horse was not authorizing of the weather change or the persistence of continuing the futile experience. August had to agree-- he was getting nowhere quick. The mountain course appeared to wind on and on and on permanently. He struck off on another course that apparently led downward. Now he was absolutely lost. Another week passed, he ran afoul of a one pissed off territorial badger, chased after for miles by an even pissed off bear. He fell against a rock and bruised some ribs, clunked his head and understood that he had a concussion.
August was not amused and ended up being very wary. He wished his internal Device had some sort of capability to see things he himself could not see, or at least identify them, or something. He was at length able to soothe the horse down, August strained to find and listen 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 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.
August made a few more stalwart prowlings and lastly came upon a man. Flies were currently swarming and so August presumed that the male had been dead there for some time. He wasn't going to be alive for really much longer, August had no method of reaching any doctor. Compliance was not exactly complied to rapidly, the two teenagers did their finest to stall and carry 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 pants were down and he was bent over Dakota's knee, the trap door of the long underwear the boy used was ripped down and the barrel of the six-shooter packed into the lad's hole. Absolutely nothing was stated. Absolutely nothing required 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 boy's anus, sodomizing him perfectly. 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 place his dick into her mouth. The experience was extraordinary. If he weren't so ruthless, Dakota was August's kind of guy. She was additional sodomized with Dakota's cock. There was absolutely nothing however still silence in the shack, only the crackling fire in the slapping and the fireplace balls against 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 resisted to the disgusting task of licking Arlene's orgasm loaded asshole, Dakota then merely wrench the lad into a 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 cock!
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