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There was the realization that he could have just as well stayed with the Ingalls, to see how all of it worked out after all. He had actually had his fill and it was time to move on, perhaps mosey down to St. Louis, New Orleans, or Arizona. Highly he felt that returning home in 2000 was a no-go. It wasn't going to occur. He was still mystified regarding how the Device wound up in his noggin' anyways! There was nought to do however deal with it, maybe find a few of his old family members, find his great-great-great grandma when she was young and hot and rating with her! That 'd mess up the timeline for sure! He knew his geography 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 wise to be leery and cautious and on guard-- Indians were still mighty unclear and outlaws roamed the wildlands, too.
A mountain course took him up into some rough country, he invested a week simply meandering around, discovering a few roaming cattle he assisted 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 much better and he nailed one deer. Residing in the rough was alright, he did miss out on the Ingalls' hospitality, Walnut Grove as a whole, also. When the very first snows began to fall his ideas rested exclusively on the Ingalls. A great warm fire, a bed, hot soup, cornbread, fresh milk. His own grub was getting sporadic, the weather 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 authorizing of the weather change or the persistence 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.
Come the beginning of his 3rd week out from Walnut Grove his horse he had actually pertained to call Tonto started freaking out. Raising up some and acting very silly. August was not amused and became extremely wary. He wished his internal Device had some sort of capability to see things he himself might not see, or at least discover them, or something. He was at length able to relax the horse down, August strained to listen and detect 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 fatal. He desired no part of either among them. After backing his horse up a bit and protecting 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 couple of more stalwart prowlings and lastly came upon a guy. 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 extremely much longer, August had no way of reaching any physician. Compliance was not exactly complied to quickly, the two teenagers did their finest to stall and carry on-- requiring Dakota to once more 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 young boy used was ripped down and the barrel of the six-shooter packed into the lad's hole. Nothing was said. Absolutely nothing required stating, Mark went to his knees, parted his cousin's cunny lips and proceeded in noshing. Dakota worked the barrel of the gun deeper into the young kid's rectum, 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 had to come and position himself on the table and insert his cock into her mouth. The experience was unbelievable. Dakota was August's type of guy if he weren't so callous. With the six-shooter, Arlene was promptly odorized. She was further sodomized with Dakota's dick. He knocked her deeply and non-stop till he might go no more. There was nothing but still silence in the shack, just the crackling fire in the slapping and the fireplace 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 tidy! Dakota sneered. When Mark fought back to the disgusting task of licking Arlene's orgasm loaded asshole, Dakota then just wrench the lad into a new position-- Either you fuckin' lick HER hole clean-- he mocked and pushed his gangly ultra-funky dick up against the kid's face-- Or you SUCK my cock!
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