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Bea Sullivan and her twin football hero stepbrothers are in trouble.
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The Frenchman watched as the cars went by, on the road below his perch.
It was chilly, up on the side of the hill, in the gloaming.
He pulled his hoodie over his head, and resumed peering through his binoculars at the oncoming traffic.
He was looking for one particular vehicle.
He whistled tunelessly, trying to concentrate on the task at hand.
The Frenchman was very good at this kind of work, and took great pleasure in inflicting the maximum amount of disruption to his targets.
Empathy wasn’t something he felt, nor entertained.
Lust, and violence, on the other hand, stirred him in an oddly specific way.
A way that was intertwined…
He thought of his reward, now waiting for him in a motel room not far from his current location.
Once his deed was done, he would avail himself of the charms of a darling, sweet cheerleader.
He laughed quietly, thinking of the debauchery to come.
The Frenchman barely noticed his mounting erection.
“Do you think that Stinger will get picked up?” Bea asked.
Frank thought for a moment, and looked over to his wife, Bea’s mother.
He leaned over and kissed her cheek, causing her to swat playfully at him.
They were comfortable, and content in their relationship.
Frank had initially worried that Agnes’ ex-husband, a Marine, would cause some issues when he married her.
But Mike was never around, except to once or twice visit his daughter on a birthday or holiday.
Such was the difficult life of the military family, but Frank had done his best to parent Bea, and make her feel welcome and part of a new, closer family.
“I surely hope so! He works so hard! And David-Keith as well!” exclaimed Mom.
Bea chuckled at how, regardless of how many times other people called her sons by their nicknames, Mom could always be counted on to recite their given names instead.
Bea piloted the car around and over the hills, the dusk beginning to darken as the sun set behind the flowing fields of corn and wheat.
She loved this time of day, when all the troubles faded with the sunlight, to be faced on the morrow.
She reached over to turn the volume up on the radio, and took her eyes off the road for only a second.
The Frenchman saw his target approaching.
Almost at the same time, the voice in his earpiece alerted him.
“They’re almost here, lover,” came the female voice in his ear.
“I can’t wait to suck your dick, to swallow your seed,” it hissed.
His erection was noticeable to him now, but he forced himself to concentrate fully.
Setting his binoculars down, he walked over near the road, where he had prepared his package for delivery.
He hefted the carcass, and took his position, behind a boulder.
“I’m going to suuuuccckkkk you until you are dryyyy,” the voice giggled in his ear.
His erection was now something very profound indeed!
The Frenchman hoisted the deer, and, as Bea rounded the corner, he walked out into the road and tossed it directly onto the windscreen.
The car screeched once, then swung off the road, plunging down the embankment.
“I want to slurrrppp your cock, and lick your hairy balls, suck them deep into my throooattttt!!” the girl’s voice sang in his ear.
The Frenchman adjusted his massive hard-on, and walked over to the edge of the cliff.
The car was at the bottom of a ravine, one of the occupants having been ejected part way down the cliff.
He saw smoke rising from the vehicle, as the wheels spun, and the motor ran down, the gas line severed.
He suspected it would catch fire and burn, saving him the trouble of having to climb down and finish the job.
The Frenchman thought about his options, and decided that the passengers and driver were probably dead.
Unlike his very hard penis….
The voice in his ear sounded breathless, and needy, and ready.
“Where are you, Frenchie? I miss you!” it pouted.
That decided his next course of action.
He peered at the wreckage, convinced that the job was done.
Retrieving his tools and binoculars, he surveyed the location, confident no one would be able to find his tracks.
Then, he made one of the few errors he’d ever made in his short career, and left for his rendezvous.
Frank saw the deer, and something else.
It looked like a man, in a football jersey, holding a deer.
He shouted to Bea, who looked up, just as the man threw the deer into their path.
Bea screamed, and swung the wheel wide.
“No!” Frank shouted, knowing instinctively what was coming next.
He reached over Agnes to shield her as Bea stomped the brakes, and the car lost control.
As it crashed through the railing and over the precipice, he covered Agnes with his body.
The car sailed down, hitting hard on first impact with the hillside, and Agnes flew past him, right out the front window.
Frank yelled as his arms broke, hitting the back of the passenger’s side front seat, and his right leg snapped in half at the knee.