Tom Plows the Hotwife

Tom grumbled to himself. It was the first big snowstorm of the year. More than half a foot. Not only would he have to shovel his driveway, but as the only plow for 50 miles, he would have to clear the streets for his neighborhood. It was a thankless job. Last year some kids hit him with snowballs. Still, the city paid him well, and it helped pay his bills.

Tom threw on his wool-lined parka and some work gloves and headed to his driveway armed with a shovel and a bag of pavement salt. About 15 minutes later he was just finished with his driveway when he noticed Yelena from 245 trying to start her car. Yelena was a Brazilian woman, about 25 years old. Hot body and a temper to match. She owned a highly successful house cleaning business. Her husband Cliff was some sort of big-shot stock trader. One of those young trust fund babies who gets handed a job and gets lucky with some investments. Cliff lived the high life of cocaine and cheating They married about six months ago, but Tom was convinced Yelena did it for the money and the green card as they were almost never seen together.

Tom had caught Yelena looking at him when he mowed the lawn a few times. Admittedly, Tom was caught staring a few times himself when Yelena would sunbathe in the skimpiest bikinis on her porch. Today, she was wearing tight pink snow pants and a puffy white jacket. Tom put down the shovel and walked over to Yelena’s car. “Need a hand Ms. Cavanaugh?” he asked politely. He wasn’t prepared for the string of expletives that spewed out of her mouth as she cursed in both Portuguese and English. Her face was red. Near as Tom could tell after removing the scorching language, her car wouldn’t start and one of her girls called out sick because her car was snowed in.

Tom finally got her to calm down after a few minutes. “Let me have a look under your hood, ma’am,” he said.

Yelena got into the car and popped the latch. Tom gave the car a look even though he was pretty sure it was just a frozen ignition. These fancy cars often were not made for extreme cold. “I’ll be right back.” He said, walking toward his plow. He returned shortly with an engine de-icer he kept for just these situations. In about five minutes, the car purred to life.

Yelena got out of the car and stood next to it, still agitated. Tom looked in the…

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