My ex-wife was a beautiful, voluptuous Cuban. Dark brown hair and coal-black eyes that radiated her seductiveness. She was 5'4" and about 125 or so, with beautiful, large breasts and perfect, dark areolea. Our relationship pre-, during, and post-marriage lasted a long time and had its ups and downs. The sex was always outstanding. The rest of the relationship, in retrospect, often was not. What I didn't know until much later was how much more fucking and sucking she did during and after our marriage. She didn't tell me for a lot of reasons, and it's too bad. I always really appreciated hearing her encounters.
Towards the end of our marriage, Claire became associated with a white-shoe firm in town. Because we were having problems and I was rarely around, she had no place to turn to but her office. Though there were other men interested in her, one very close acquaintance of hers was Jose. Tall, stocky and dark haired, Jose was the firm's law clerk. A good-looking, young Mexican American, Jose took to Claire instantly. He always came down to her office, ostensibly to see about work or to gossip, but really he was there to gather in all he could about my wife. And my wife, always hungry for the attention of men, and their cocks, knew exactly what he was doing.
Claire took to wearing shear stockings and tight skirts. Under her jacket she wore shear silk blouses with expensive, lacy bras. Her puppy dog, Jose, drank her in from 9 in the morning until 7 or later every night. Whenever he could come up with a reason, and after hours sometimes for no reason at all, her office became the place for him to end up; he knew instinctively that she was naughty and wanton.
She taunted him, to see how far he would go. Knowing he would be visiting her office, she would arrange the chairs so that he would be sitting slightly behind her desk and then she would hike her skirt up so that much of her leg was showing. Sometimes her panties showed, other times, she just wore pantyhose, without panties. Her breasts and nipples were too big to go without a bra, but she often would unbutton her blouse to below her bra after hours; sometimes she would wear a black, lacy bra. Jose would come into the office and marvel at her wonders, hoping he wasn't obvious. With a knowing woman like Claire, there was no hiding his feelings; Jose's staring and the growing bulge in his pants gave him away. For Claire, who craved attention and cock, it was a lifeline. The tension was always thick and others at the firm started to notice. Claire was oblivious to the attention she was getting from the other attorneys at the firm. What she did notice was the size of the bulge in Jose's pants. She wondered just how big his cock really was.
Sometimes after work, some of the associates and law clerks would go out for drinks. With a few cocktails, Claire would loosen up and talk about sex. Jose listened eagerly, hoping to gain useful information, should he ever get a chance at sleeping with her. Size came up, as it always does, and Claire told him that size was important, especially when it matters most, at climax. Each time they would go out for drinks, or just to hang out, Jose hoped and prayed for more. Each time, he was let down. Too shy to actually say anything, and certain that she knew, Jose remained hopeful. Jose was certain that something was going to happen the night they all went out to a strip club, but the evening ended as had so many others. Nothing happened.
No man can remain impervious to a beautiful woman's charms forever. Jose couldn't take much more. He needed relief from the growing pressure. Claire, for the most part, acted as though nothing was going on. His after hours visits to her office became more frequent and tension-filled. Jose was convinced that something was going to happen, so he memorized the number of the Westin Hotel across the street in the vain hope that maybe one day she would give in and take him to the hotel.
For some time, she would let him walk her to her car. The progression was gradual. Claire and Jose would walk together. If the temperature dropped at night, he would offer his coat to her, or put his arm around her. In time, they began hugging good night to each other. The hugs turned to embraces, and the embraces led to kisses on Claire's forehead. One night, they kissed on the lips. It was innocent, it was fun. How could it be wrong? They would kiss more passionately sometimes. A few times, he would linger and talk with her. After a while, Claire would invite him into the car where they would talk some more until they ended up necking. Not much longer and Jose regularly accompanied Claire to her car, where they would get in and kiss, with Jose fingering her sopping wet pussy through her panties until she came.
The inevitable was bound to happen to Claire and Jose. I was too busy elsewhere to keep her occupied. The tension was too much one evening and Claire was particularly unhappy because I was busy elsewhere and hadn't been particularly good to her. Jose came into the office and comforted her. Standing by her desk, he held her closely in his arms. She cried softly, but was grateful for his strong, masculine arms around her. She also felt his cock growing. She loved cock. Worshipped it, actually. Any cock, but especially big cock.
