Cleo's Fantasies Ch. 04

**Cleo**

She sipped her cappuccino with great pleasure, licked the foam off her lips, and as so often, was unaware of the subtle eroticism of her actions. She relaxed and watched through the large window of the street café the people passing by as they hurried to some appointment or strolled, chatting with each other. Several times her thoughts returned to the scene on the street. The confused and horrified face of her neighbor somehow gave her immense pleasure. Grinning inwardly, she thought:

*"I'm not so bad after all "*,

and leaned back with a satisfied grin.

She had married her first boyfriend when she got pregnant with her daughter Lena, whom she had at only 19. That had thrown all of her former grand plans. Instead of studying, she cared for the little one, and barely a year and a half later, Sue was born. She had always wanted two kids, albeit not necessarily so early in life- But she had not given up her intention of becoming a medical doctor.

Against all odds, she had started her studies at the age of 23, and had sometimes, okay maybe many times, envied the other students for their freedom to do whatever they wanted. When her fellow students went out for a drink or to a party after class, she would hurry home to put the little ones to bed. Then she would get out her books and study late into the night. There was just no time for leisure or even pleasure.

She was one of the best in her year and was quite proud of that achievement. What fell by the wayside, however, was her relationship. The romance faded as soon as Sue was born, but it didn't get awful until after she had started university. She was either too tired for sex, or the kids needed attention. Nevertheless, she felt she had everything under control and her studies were going well. At least until her husband told her he wanted to separate and had accepted a job in the USA. A week later, he was already on a plane, and she was alone with two small children in a dreary two-room apartment.

Nevertheless, she had somehow managed to finish her studies, then got a job at the hospital and raised the girls. Both were as beautiful as their mother, and Lena had recently passed her final exams. Cleo was justifiably proud of herself, both for her accomplishments as a mother and as a doctor.

After her husband had left, she had no time and didn't feel any desire to date. When she wasn't working or studying, she cared for her daughters. Only jogging and a mix of aerobics and yoga kept her going, and that was effectively her only pastime for a long time.

She always went to work without makeup (the daily mascara did not count as makeup for her), but that did not detract from her beauty. She completely ignored the advances of men and thus enjoyed the reputation of an aloof, even frigid beauty. After all, her professional competence was undisputed by all.

A few years ago, when the children were still teens, she had a short phase in which she made a few male acquaintances. But none of the men could handle the fact that she hardly had any free time. So they remained short but still quite intense affairs since Cleo had no interest in a purely sexual relationship. She enjoyed the sex but didn't really miss the men when they were gone again.

Then about half a year ago, many things had changed at the same time. Sue had decided to do an exchange year at a college in the U.S. and had flown to her father, with whom she would now live for a year. Cleo had been less than enthusiastic, but at almost 18, she had let Sue decide for herself.

Lena had been in a study rush and had no time for anything, certainly not for her mother.

Shortly after Sue had left, she had also taken a new job at a very prestigious private clinic. Instead of the typical 60, 70, or even more hours per week, she suddenly had relatively regular working hours, with rare exceptions. If that wasn't enough change, she had also moved into a bigger, more luxurious apartment.

So for the first time in a very long time, she was now able to think, read, relax, even occasionally watch TV or do whatever else she wanted.

A few weeks ago, that somewhat disturbing episode with the neighbor, the Peeping Tom, had happened. She hadn't seen him watch her, but she was still quite sure of it. In her old apartment, this couldn't have occurred since it was on the sixth floor. She was also aware that in the past, she wouldn't have given it much thought at all - simply because of a lack of time to reflect on it.

But everything was different now, and she attributed her unusual fantasies to all the newfound free time. She had suppressed her sexuality for a long time, and now it seemed to want to burst out of her. This game with putting her bra on the bed was somewhat absurd but, at the same time, exciting and strangely amusing.

So, he had seen her naked for the second time now, albeit from behind. And it had been entirely intentional to show herself to him this way; there was no denying that fact. On the other hand, he had hardly seen anything, she mused. Besides, the whole act had also lost much of the drama since their encounter on the street. Likely because it had been her own decision and only hers.

Nevertheless, the fantasy had lost none of its appeals, despite or maybe because of that brief encounter on the street. She realized the "reality" aspect enhanced or even complemented the fantasy. For a moment, she wondered how it would all go on from now.

She decided not to tell anyone about it for the time being and have some fun. She took the last sip of her cappuccino and thought:

*"It's just a fantasy, and it's nobody's business anyway."*

**Tanner

The day after he had seen her bra and then her fantastic, naked butt, he rode his bike to a neighboring town and bought a cheap webcam in a large store. Sadly he didn't have the money to buy more decent tools for his newfound hobby.

Back at the office, he excitedly installed the webcam, placed it on the windowsill, and pointed it at his neighbor's bedroom window. Frustrated by the poor image quality, he tried for hours to optimize the settings with less than moderate success. He was pissed.

At least the shutter was only two-thirds closed, just as it had been the night before, and so he had high hopes for more of those exciting moments.

He sat comfortably at his PC and still didn't miss a thing. Brilliant. Should the light come on, he could also be at the window within seconds and watch live. Satisfied, he opened a bottle of whiskey that a customer had given him, poured himself a generous amount, and took a sip.

He would have liked to buy a pair of binoculars, but his pocket money did not allow him this luxury. Nothing else was what his wife had allowed him years ago. Until now, this had not bothered him very much, but now he was annoyed about it.

He firmly resolved to improve his financial situation fundamentally and immediately. In one go, he emptied the glass and sat back, enjoying the slightly burning feeling in his throat and the pleasant warmth in his stomach.

***

The following days passed slowly, and he longed for the evening. The shutter was always immediately 2/3 closed, as on the evening when he caught a glimpse of her ass. But the hoped-for light never came on. He checked the recording of his webcam several times a day, somewhat frustrated. In the evening, he was fixated on it. But nothing happened.

In his omnipresent fantasies, he imagined, especially at night, how he seduced his neighbor and sometimes how he used cunning, pressure, or threats to get her to submit to him and do what he wanted - something that, in his imagination, she simultaneously detested but also enjoyed. Of course, he was aware that under normal circumstances, he could not count on any chances with her.

Saturday evening at half past eleven, the time had finally come: the light went on, and he jumped up involuntarily.

A short time later, however, the light had already gone out again, and he had not caught sight of her. As always in such situations, disappointment settled around him like a leaden cloak and threatened to crush his excellent mood. But he was not yet ready to give up hope. He remained standing at the window, waiting.

After a few minutes, he said to himself: five more minutes. Time passed, and he increased by another five minutes. But again, the time passed uneventfully, and he considered whether he should go to sleep. He gruffly dismissed the thought and continued to stare into the darkness. He gave himself one last five minutes. Nothing. But again, he persevered. And then, just as he was about to give up for good, his patience was rewarded:

The light was back on!

**Cleo**

On this Saturday, she had one of the rare weekend services. When she finally got home a little after ten in the evening, she felt drained from a busy week and the unfortunate argument. How had she done it in her mid-twenties, with two small children, studying, learning, and keeping house, all with a minimum of sleep?

She was home alone and sat cross-legged in front of the TV in the living room in only her underwear and, concentrated on her breathing, began to stretch and stretch. She had been doing these exercises for years and felt extremely relaxed and refreshed afterward. But today, she was a little restless and had trouble concentrating.

So she got up, went to the kitchen, and poured herself a glass of wine. She took a sip and leaned against the kitchen counter. What else was she supposed to do today? Take a bath? Or take a quick shower? Go straight to sleep? Or do more yoga? She couldn't decide. The glass was already empty again, and she poured herself a generous refill and went back in front of the TV. She had hardly eaten anything today and felt how the wine calmed and relaxed her, but it also got into her head a bit.

There was nothing clever on TV, as usual on Saturday, and while she was still zapping around a bit, she emptied the second glass. She went back to the kitchen and looked at the almost empty bottle. For the tiny remainder, it wasn't worth keeping, and she decided the rest of the wine was better drunk now. Surprisingly, this small remainder amounted to almost a whole glass again. She shrugged her shoulders as if to say to herself:

*"What the heck!"*

She turned off the light in the living room and went towards the bathroom with the glass in her hand. But she stopped at the entrance to her bedroom.

She wondered if the neighbor had looked every day, hoping to see something of her. He then, excited but unsatisfied, probably had given up sometime after she had extinguished the light. She smirked cheekily as she imagined him standing at the window daily with a half-hard member, somewhat frustrated, but with undiminished hope. Or maybe he had pulled a chair up to the window?

She turned on the light in the bedroom and imagined him startled in his office. Surely he had just been watching some porn on the Internet or working on something boring. Was he perhaps standing at the window right now? She turned off the light again, slipped into the room, and sat on the floor next to the window.

She definitely didn't want him to see her. Crouching against the wall, she hesitantly pulled herself up by the window sill until she could barely look out and see his brightly lit window. His curtain was drawn, and unfortunately, it was impossible to see inside. But hadn't there been some movement in the curtain? She was not sure and decided to look a little longer. Then suddenly, she thought she could see a shadow at the window and ducked. Heart pounding, she sat back down on the floor and took another sip of wine, laughing a little nervously. Oh man, if someone could see her like that!

So he was there, and he would watch her. At least, that's what she had decided for herself now. He would follow her every move closely with his little eyes. And as always, she had the proven image in front of her: how he stood there at the window, trembling, with his thick, half-erect penis, in his old training pants. Highly aroused and always with the faint hope of seeing more of her.

She had no idea how much he wanted just that.

Cleo felt the fantasy's usual effect and slipped a hand into her panties. As expected, she was already quite wet: this fantasy had never failed. Somewhat lost in thought, she played with herself, drinking the rest of the wine. She imagined, as she often did, that she was doing it to herself while he watched, wondering if it would be as horny in reality as it was in her fantasy.

Then she finally got up and went into the bathroom, looking at herself in the mirror while she brushed her teeth with the electric sonic toothbrush. She loved that vibrating thing, and her teeth always felt extra clean and smooth afterward. Meanwhile, her other hand played with her nipples through her bra. A little too carelessly, she pinched her left nipple and winced in pain, increasing her arousal.

She turned off the light in the bathroom and went into the bedroom. Should she turn on the light again today? She laughed out loud. Of course, she shouldn't.

Disinhibited by all the alcohol, all those horny thoughts and fantasies of the last few weeks came crashing down on her. And knowing that he might be watching her, she turned on the light anyway.

In her mind, right now, his heart stopped for a moment, and his breath caught.

Slowly, she walked to the bed, to the exact spot where her bra had been last time. She knew that he could now see her thighs, her panties, and some belly, but not her breasts. The shutter was too far down for that; she had checked several times.

So she sat down on the edge of the bed and, a moment later, reached back for the bra clasp. She knew he couldn't see her face - but now her whole upper body. In her imagination, he was already wriggling around, and his heart was beating faster. Any moment she could take off her bra, and he would be able to see her breasts. But she delayed it, reaching forward again and pretending something was on her hand. The anticipation had to be as unbearable for him as the excitement boiling inside her.

Almost in slow motion, she reached back again. Her heart was pounding hard, and she could feel the wetness between her legs. This time she unclasped the bra, and with a practiced movement, she threw her arms forward and the bra to the floor.

There she sat, now exposed and with hard nipples, feeling the shame and arousal bring the blush to her face. She was glad he couldn't see it. Her hands slid back and forth over her thighs to give him time to worship her in her semi-nudity. She stroked her legs some more to buy more time and thought about what to do next.

Shortly, she stood up and presented herself to him sideways, probably from her thighs to just above her panties. She was incredibly aroused. Slowly, almost painfully slowly, she put her thumbs into the elastic waistband, bent over slightly, which probably presented her breasts and painfully hard nipples to him from the side, and pulled the fabric down to her knees in an exaggeratedly slow manner before then just letting the thing fall.

So she stopped momentarily, looking at the panties, a hint of nothing. Whether it was the wine or the arousal, she felt an irrepressible urge to show herself to him. So she turned to the window, just for a moment, while continuing to inspect the panties completely unnecessarily.

Today he was lucky. She was gracious and let him see what he so desired. A shiver ran down her spine. She, who was usually so controlled, was acting purely on emotion, unreasonably and lust-driven.

Seconds later, she finally turned away and went to the light switch.

*click*

The light was off, and she knew he had probably just realized that the show was over for the day. The excitement of the last minute turned to arousal and a feeling of superiority.

Naked, she lay on the bed, imagining she hadn't turned out the light. She could almost feel his greedy gaze and began to caress her clitoris, unusually impetuously for her. She moaned out, and her body vibrated. She had wanted to take her time, but the longed-for orgasm overtook her after a very short time.

It took a few minutes for her breathing to calm down and the fire in her abdomen to reread. Again, it had been an infinitely horny feeling and amazingly even better than in her fantasy.

Deeply satisfied, she pulled the sheet over her and fell straight into a deep, well-deserved sleep.