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There was the awareness that he could have just as well stayed with the Ingalls, to see how it all worked out. But he had had his fill and it was time to proceed, maybe mosey down to St. Louis, New Orleans, or Arizona. Strongly he felt that getting back house in 2000 was a no-go. It wasn't going to occur. He knew 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 smart to be cautious and leery and on guard-- Indians were still magnificent unsettled and outlaws roamed 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 livestock he assisted himself to some fresh steak. It was a little gross and he determined that in the future he would simply buy one from a dining establishment. 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 began to fall his thoughts rested exclusively on the Ingalls. A nice 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 wished 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 persistence of continuing the useless experience. August had to agree-- he was getting no place 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 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 really cautious. He wished his internal Device had some sort of capability to see items he himself might not see, or at least find them, or something. He was at length able to calm the horse down, August strained to discover and listen for himself what had scared Tonto. He desired no part of either one of them. After backing his horse up a bit and securing him to a bush August slinked off into the rough, lurking, 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 couple of more stalwart prowlings and finally came upon a guy. Flies were currently swarming and so August assumed that the guy had actually been dead there for some time. He wasn't going to be alive for very much longer, August had no way of reaching any doctor. Compliance was not precisely complied to quickly, the two teenagers did their best to bring and stall 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 kid wore was ripped down and the barrel of the six-shooter packed 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 proceeded in noshing. Dakota worked the barrel of the weapon deeper into the young boy's rectum, sodomizing him nicely. His other hand he hung on to the lad's hair, holding it up firmly, 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 after that made her suck on the barrel.

Arlene was ruthlessly wrenched over and spanked hard, Mark needed to come and position himself on the table and insert 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 dick. There was nothing however still silence in the shack, just the crackling fire in the slapping and the fireplace 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 disgusting job of licking Arlene's orgasm packed asshole, Dakota then simply wrench the lad into a brand-new position-- Either you fuckin' lick HER hole clean-- he mocked and shoved his gangly ultra-funky dick up against the young boy's face-- Or you SUCK my dick!

 

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