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Katalina , 43 y
Madelyn , 38 y
Tatiana , 33 y
Harmony , 45y
Christina , 28 y
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Brothels Brockenhurst SO42

 

There was the realization that he might have just as well stuck with the Ingalls, to see how all of it worked out after all. However he had 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 as to how the Device ended up in his noggin' anyways! There was nought to do but deal with it, maybe find a few of his old family members, discover his great-great-great grandmother when she was young and hot and score with her! That 'd screw up the timeline for sure! He knew his geography fairly 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 wise to be wary and wary and on guard-- Indians were still magnificent unsettled and bandits roamed the wildlands, too.

A mountain path took him up into some rough nation, he invested a week just meandering around, discovering a couple of roaming livestock he helped himself to some fresh steak. It was a little gross and he determined 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 whole. His own grub was getting sporadic, the weather condition 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 authorizing of the weather change or the persistence of continuing the futile adventure. August had to concur-- he was getting nowhere 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 entertained and ended up being really cautious. He wanted his internal Device had some sort of capability to see things he himself could not see, or at least spot them, or something. He was at length able to soothe the horse down, August strained to detect and listen for himself what had actually spooked Tonto. He figured either a snake or Indians. Either one he was not cool with. Both were fatal, vicious, and fatal. He wanted no part of either among them. After backing his horse up a bit and securing him to a bush August slid off into the rough, lurking, pausing 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 absolutely nothing to hear but pests buzzing. Nothing stirred. August made a few more stalwart prowlings and lastly came across a man. Laying down vulnerable upon the ground with a huge bloodstain on his behind. He didn't have any boots on, either. Flies were already swarming and so August assumed that the man had actually been dead there for some time. Thoroughly August took out of the rough and approximately where the man lay. To his surprise, the man was still in fact alive. Hardly. He had been shot in the chest and had actually lost a great deal of blood. He wasn't going to be alive for quite longer, August had no way of reaching any medical professional. The kid's ass muscles flexed as he strove NOT to pump into his cousin's mouth. Arlene retched, gagged, choked, and nearly vomited as she slurped on the two dicks, the balls and as well licked up Mark's fracture. Arlene then needed to return to the table and lay on it with her legs widened, hands to her side. Mark then needed to go to her, on his knees, and lick her. Compliance was not exactly complied to rapidly, the two teens did their best to carry and stall on-- forcing Dakota to once again get 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 kid used was ripped down and the barrel of the six-shooter crammed into the lad's hole. Absolutely nothing was said. Absolutely 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 anus, 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 position himself on the table and place his dick into her mouth. The ordeal was extraordinary. Dakota was August's sort of man if he weren't so callous. With the six-shooter, Arlene was without delay odorized. She was additional 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, just the crackling fire in the fireplace and the slapping 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 clean! Dakota sneered. When Mark fought back to the horrible task of licking Arlene's cum packed asshole, Dakota then simply 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 kid's face-- Or you SUCK my cock!

 

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