So we live out in the middle of nowhere. When you live in the middle of nowhere, you have more privacy. You can grow certain things and pursue your hobbies without being bothered. Stuff that gets you cited or worse in the city is fine here. And even if it’s illegal, who will know? So you end up with stuff folks value. And sometimes people do just about anything to get what you have.

Around 3 am, my phone buzzes me out of a dirty dream. Emily. She’s one of my wife’s single homeschool mom friends. And she’s texting me. Asking me to come to the door.

I stumble out with just my boxers on. I open the door. She’s standing in a long Winter coat. Which makes sense; it’s 25°.

But it’s open.

I’m half asleep. I step outside onto the deck. I close the door quietly behind me. I’m freezing.

“What the fuck?”

“I need some.”

“Huh? You usually have way more than us.”

She runs her hands down along the opening of her coat, grazing her skin. She looks at me, trying to look seductive. It comes off weird. “Supply issues. Come on.”

Now it makes sense. This is why she’s at my door like this. This is why she texted me. My wife and Emily are competitive. If my wife knew Emily was having problems with production, if she knew she was this desperate, she would hold it over her forever.

“Chet, let me come in,” she whispers. It’s like 20.”

“Fuck no. She’ll hear. Besides. She would kill me if she knew I helped you.”

Emily leans up to me. Kisses me. “I’ve always wanted to do this.”

Fuck. I’ve always wanted her to do this.

She presses herself against me. She’s so warm in her coat. Her body is so soft. Her breasts are small, but she has these crazy thick nipples that are hard against my chest.

“Please, Chet. I need them. Bad. I’ll do anything.”

My cock is hard. Pressing up against her through my boxers. Her hand finds it. It’s cold, but my cock doesn’t care. I groan I run my hands to her shoulders and yank her coat off of her. Roughly spin her around and bend her over the deck railing. My fingers find her nipples. They’re so hard. From arousal? From the cold? I don’t care.

“Oh,” she says. “Like this? In the cold?” I can hear the disappointment. It makes me wild.

My cock finds its way into her warmth. I don’t waste time. I just fuck her. Hard. I’m trying to fuck her over the edge of the deck. I grab her arms and pull them back so I’m holding her by the hands, her arms stretched as far as they’ll go, while also shoving her forward with each rough thrust. It would be over in seconds inside. She’s moaning, her cunt is so fucking wet, she has long lips that kind of tickle my cock as I pull out and thrust back in, the contrast between hot cunt and cold air is intoxicating, and truth be told, I’ve wanted to fuck her for years. But still. It’s freezing. And part of me is listening for any sign that my wife is up.

So it takes me a few minutes to blow my load. She moans the whole time. Towards the end, the moans seem louder. But I don’t know if she came. I don’t care.

“Hold on. I’ll be back.” I go inside, then come back out with the product. She’s got a Kleenex in her hand and she’s squatting to clean herself up. She must have brought the Kleenex with her. I give her what she came for. What I came for, actually.

“Oh, Chet. Thank you so much. We can do this trade whenever you want.” 

“K.” I’m so sleepy post-cum. I just want her off my porch.

As she leaves with the dozen eggs from the chickens we keep in the backyard, I go inside and lie down next to my wife. I’m still sticky. I rub my hand on my cock and bring it to my face, smelling her cunt as I drift back to sleep.