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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. 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 getting back home in 2000 was a no-go. It wasn't going to happen. He knew his geography fairly 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 wise to be wary and wary and on guard-- Indians were still mighty unclear and bandits strolled the wildlands, too.
A mountain course took him up into some rough nation, he invested a week just meandering around, discovering a few roaming cattle he helped 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 much 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 turning on him the higher he went, but he desired to get up and over the mountain ridge and down into new territory he assumed would be one of the Dakotas, or perhaps Iowa, possibly even Nebraska, he wasn't sure. His horse was not approving of the weather condition change or the insistence of continuing the futile adventure. August had to concur-- he was getting nowhere quickly. Another week went by, he ran afoul of a one pissed off territorial badger, chased for miles by an even pissed off bear.
August was not amused and became very wary. He wanted his internal Device had some sort of ability to see items he himself might not see, or at least spot them, or something. He was at length able to calm the horse down, August strained to listen and discover for himself what had alarmed Tonto. He figured either a snake or Indians. Either one he was not cool with. Both were fatal, vicious, and lethal. He wanted no part of either among them. After backing his horse up a bit and protecting him to a bush August slid 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.
There was nothing to hear however pests buzzing. Nothing stirred. August made a few more stalwart prowlings and finally came upon a male. Laying down susceptible upon the ground with a substantial bloodstain on his backside. He didn't have any boots on, either. Flies were currently swarming therefore August assumed that the man had been dead there for a long time. Thoroughly August stole out of the rough and approximately where the man lay. To his surprise, the man was still really alive. But barely. He had been shot in the chest and had actually lost a lot of blood. He wasn't going to be alive for quite longer, August had no other way of reaching any doctor. The boy's ass muscles flexed as he made every effort NOT to pump into his cousin's mouth. Arlene retched, gagged, choked, and almost threw up as she slurped on the two cocks, the balls and as well licked up Mark's fracture. Arlene then needed to go back 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 precisely complied to rapidly, the two teenagers did their best to bring and stall on-- forcing Dakota to once more 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 young boy used was ripped down and the barrel of the six-shooter packed into the lad's hole. Nothing was stated. Absolutely nothing required saying, 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. 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 cock into her mouth. The ordeal was unbelievable. Dakota was August's kind of guy if he weren't so ruthless. She was more 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 noise. 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 packed asshole, Dakota then simply wrench the lad into a new position-- Either you fuckin' lick HER hole clean-- he jeered and shoved his gangly ultra-funky cock up against the boy's face-- Or you SUCK my dick!
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