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There was the realization that he might have just as well stayed with the Ingalls, to see how it all worked out. However he had actually had his fill and it was time to move on, possibly mosey down to St. Louis, New Orleans, or Arizona. Highly he felt that getting back home in 2000 was a no-go. It wasn't going to take place. He knew his geography relatively well, the location of 2000, the location of 1875 he was a little fuzzy on. And beings that it WAS 1875, Old West, it was smart to be leery and careful and on guard-- Indians were still magnificent unsettled and bandits roamed the wildlands, too.
A mountain course took him up into some rough country, he invested a week simply meandering around, finding a few stray cattle he helped himself to some fresh steak. It was a little gross and he determined 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. When the very first snows started to fall his thoughts rested exclusively on the Ingalls. A good warm fire, a bed, hot soup, cornbread, fresh milk. His own grub was getting sporadic, the weather condition switching on him the greater he went, but he wanted 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, maybe even Nebraska, he wasn't sure. Soon the days got as cold as the nights. His horse was not approving of the weather modification or the persistence of continuing the useless experience. August needed to agree-- he was getting nowhere quickly. The mountain path seemed to wind on and on and on permanently. So he struck off on another course that allegedly led downward. Now he was completely lost. Another week passed, he ran afoul of a one pissed off territorial badger, chased for miles by an even pissed off bear. He fell against a rock and bruised some ribs, clunked his head and knew that he had a concussion.
Come the beginning of his 3rd week out from Walnut Grove his horse he had come to call Tonto began going crazy. Rearing up some and acting very silly. August was not entertained and ended up being very wary. He wished his internal Device had some sort of ability to see things he himself might not see, or a minimum of identify them, or something. He was at length able to relax the horse down, August strained to listen and find for himself what had actually startled Tonto. He figured either a snake or Indians. Either one he was not cool with. Both were fatal, vicious, and deadly. He desired no part of either among them. After backing his horse up a bit and securing him to a bush August slinked off into the rough, prowling, 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.
August made a couple of more stalwart prowlings and lastly came upon a male. Flies were already swarming and so August assumed that the male had actually been dead there for some time. He wasn't going to be alive for really much longer, August had no method of reaching any medical professional. Compliance was not exactly complied to rapidly, the two teens did their finest to stall and bring on-- requiring Dakota to 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 stated. 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 gun 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 position himself on the table and insert his cock into her mouth. The experience was amazing. If he weren't so ruthless, Dakota was August's kind of guy. She was additional sodomized with Dakota's dick. There was nothing however still silence in the shack, only the crackling fire in the fireplace and the slapping 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 resisted to the revolting job of licking Arlene's orgasm laden asshole, Dakota then merely wrench the lad into a new position-- Either you fuckin' lick HER hole tidy-- he jeered and pushed his gangly ultra-funky dick up against the boy's face-- Or you SUCK my cock!
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