“So, whenever he has a hard-on, he can’t talk?” she laughs. “How is he different than other men?” she laughs louder. I laugh with her but try to explain the extent of Jeremy’s problem.
“There’s an approach that utilizes total immersion to overcome these kinds of disorders,” I tell her, trying to sound as clinical as possible.
“Total immersion?” she asks.
“Yes,” I take a breath and give her the one-two punch. “If we can help desensitize him to the stimulus that causes the erection, then the stuttering should stop,” I explain.
“Desensitize him to girls?” she laughs. “Is that possible or even desirable?” she asks. I’m starting to realize that all the laughing is nerves. I try to set her at ease while I explain.
“Not girls,” I correct her. “Scantily clad girls. He didn’t have a problem when I wasn’t in my bikini.”
“So, what, take him to the beach?” she asks, raising her eyebrows. “I don’t understand how this works, Sara.”
“What I propose is that I act as the stimulus,” I tell her cautiously. “I will invite Jeremy to do his homework at my apartment every day after school. I will wear my bikini while I help him with his homework. According to the speech therapist, if he concentrates on something completely unrelated to the stimulus, he will eventually get desensitized and stop stuttering.”
“Do you think it will work?” Jenny asks, apparently unconcerned that I’ll be exposing most of my body to my teenage nephew.
“We can only try,” I shrug.
“Thank you, Sara.” Jenny says. “I suppose this is more than you bargained for when you volunteered to find out if Jeremy was gay,” she says, looking at her watch. I don’t dare tell her how much I’m looking forward to helping my nephew or how wet I got looking at the bulge in his pants.
“No need to thank me,” I tell her, meaning it differently than she thinks. “You need to get to work, and I need to go home and get some sleep.” We hug briefly in the parking lot before heading to our individual cars.
I’m awake and showered by the time Jeremy knocks on my door after school. Once again, I’m in my baggy sweatshirt and loose-fitting jeans but this time I have a surprise for him.
“Hi Aunt Sara,” Jeremy says, setting his backpack on one of the kitchen chairs. “Did you still want to get together today?” he asks.
“Yes!” I say, maybe a little too enthusiastically. “I’ve got your program all mapped out, I just need to discuss it with you,” I tell him. “Have a seat,” I say, pulling out the chair to the right of his.
“I did some research and I think we can conquer this arousal based stuttering problem of yours,” I smile at his anxiousness. “Are you familiar with the concept of behavior modification?” I ask.
“B.F. Skinner?” he asks, and I nod. “Sure, we learned about him last summer during that course I took at the university.” Sometimes I forget I’m dealing with a genius level IQ. Okay, here goes. I take a deep breath.
“Okay, so you’re familiar with cause and effect and stimulus and response?” I ask.
“Sure, but Aunt Sara, we already know what the cause and effect is… I don’t see…” I cut him off before he can continue.
“Wait,” I assert, and he just sighs. “There has been some success with a process called Total Immersion Therapy,” I suddenly realize what the acronym is, but I decide not to share this with Jeremy. Of course, he’s too fast for me.
“TIT?” he laughs. “You’re putting me on.” At least he’s smiling.
“I just realized that myself,” I smile and get back to the strategy. “Anyway, the idea is to build up your tolerance to the stimuli, so it doesn’t trigger the response.” “Okaaaaaay,” he drags it out, emphasizing his disbelief. “Which stimuli are we talking about here?” he asks skeptically.
“The sexual stimulus that causes your erection. Without the erection the stuttering should stop,” I tell him as matter-of-factly as I can with my heart beating fast inside my chest. Why am I finding this so hard? Maybe because it’s about building up his sexual resistance!
“How do we do that?” he asks, seriously curious.
“Like this,” I say, pulling my sweatshirt over my head and revealing the same bikini top I was wearing yesterday. “You’re going to come up here every day after school, until you can be around me in my bikini and not stutter,” I announce proudly as I pull my jeans down and kick them off.
“Aunt S-S-Sara!” Jeremy stutters. “I c-c-can’t!” He moves his hand under the table, obviously adjusting himself.
“Yes you c-c-can!” I laugh, mimicking him and hoping he doesn’t take offense. He doesn’t.
“Your girlfriend is in your calculus class, right. So, get out your calculus book and start explaining to me what you’re currently studying.” He’s just staring at my tits, which are now swelling over the top of my tiny bikini as I take a deep breath.
“You’re k-k-kidding?” he stammers as beads of sweat form on his forehead.
“I’ve never been more serious,” I say, leaning over to grab his backpack from the floor. Oops! Big mistake! The damn thing is heavy as hell! As I struggle to lift it, the triangles of my bikini top slide to the side revealing more of my tits to my awestruck nephew. When he reaches down to help me, his arm brushes against my barely covered nipple awakening it with his touch. By the time we get the backpack on the table my hardening nipples are visible through my top.
“I-I-I’m s-s-s-sorry, Aunt S-S-Sara!” he says but his eyes never leave my chest. I’m surprised at how arousing it is to have him looking at me like this.
“No, it’s my fault. What the hell have you got in there, bricks?” I ask, trying to change the subject for him and for me.
“J-J-Just my b-b-books,” he says but he’s not looking at my face.
“Come on, Jeremy,” I say, unzipping the backpack. “Where’s the calculus book?” According to the speech therapist, if I can get him talking about something he’s comfortable with, that has nothing to do with the stimulus, he should stop stuttering. “Th-th-this is c-c-crazy!” he says, pulling out his book.
“Just humor me, okay?” I ask, opening the book. “What page are you on?”
“P-p-page one t-t-twenty t-t-t-two,” he answers, still staring, wide-eyed at my bikini clad body. I open the book to the right page and read something about Quotient Rules and Higher-Order Derivatives.
“Okay, good!” I say, more confident than I feel as the tingling dampness in my pussy starts to distract me. “Explain this to me,” I say as I squeeze my legs together and try to ignore my own arousal.
He reluctantly pulls his eyes from my tits and focuses on the textbook. Hesitantly at first, and with a considerable amount of stuttering, he starts to explain derivatives to me. I have no fucking clue what he’s talking about, but I nod and ask a few questions until he’s focused on calculus problems and not on my body. He doesn’t notice that he’s stopped stuttering as he patiently explains complex calculus concepts to a mathematical retard.
“Ohmygod!” he exclaims, stopping mid-sentence. “It worked!” he says, smiling from ear to ear. “Aunt Sara, you’re a g-g-genius.” At this point his eyes have again found the swell of my breasts and my protruding nipples, which haven’t receded at all despite the jargon laden discord I’ve been subjected to for the last half hour.
“As long as you’re focused on calculus and not on my tits you don’t stutter,” I tell him. “We’re making progress.”
“D-d-d-do you th-th-think, if I t-t-talk to M-M-Megan ab-b-bout c-c-calculus…” I cut him off.
“I think it’s premature to say for certain, but I think it’s worth a try,” I assure him. “I think if we do this every day after school it won’t take long for you to become immune to seeing me like this.”
“M-m-m-maybe,” he smiles, shaking his head. We continue for another hour before I have to get ready for work.
Jeremy comes back after school each day explaining more calculus concepts to me and by Thursday we’re able to have non-calculus discussions without him stuttering.
“So, have you talked to Megan yet?” I ask him when he’s finished explaining his homework to me, something about implicit differentiation.
“Just a little,” he answers, smiling. “I asked her a couple of questions about homework, and she was anxious to answer them for me. She’s really smart!” he says, and I can see he is completely enamored by her.
“How about the stuttering?” I ask, trying not to embarrass him by asking about his erection.
“Just a little but she didn’t even seem to notice,” he’s smiling as he packs up his books. “See you tomorrow, Aunt Sara,” he kisses my cheek and leaves me standing in my kitchen in my skimpy bikini. I’m proud of the progress he’s made but conflicted about the lack of interest he’s showing in my body. Don’t be stupid! This is what is supposed to happen!
*****
“So he’s been starring at your tits all week!” Jenny says a little too loudly. It’s Friday afternoon and we’re having lunch at an outdoor cafe near her office. I’ve just told her about the progress I’m making with Jeremy.
“Shhh! Lower your voice,” I laugh. “Yes, it’s been kind of weird but it seems to be working.”
“Oh Sara!” she says devilishly. “You poor thing. Prancing around half-naked for a young man who has perpetual erections from starring at your tits?” she smiles as she takes a bite of her salad. “It’s arousing, isn’t it?” she asks, raising her eyebrows at me. “If he’s as big as his dad it must be very arousing!” she laughs. Jenny has always been blunt when talking about sex and makes frequent reference to her husband’s size.
“He’s my nephew!” I assert but her de***********ion is pretty accurate and I’ve been fingering my pussy every day after he leaves.
“Nephew or not, he’s a man with a hard-on caused by looking at your body,” she says. “How can you not be aroused?” she smiles but touches my hand in a serious way.
“So, is he cured?” she asks, taking a bite of her salad.
“I’m not sure,” I tell her honestly. “I’m going to discuss it with him today when he comes over.”
“Whatever you can do for him, Sara, I will be eternally grateful,” she says, looking directly into my eyes so I don’t miss her meaning. I swallow hard, not sure what I’m supposed to say.
“He must be like a blank slate muse as much to herself as to me. “For God’s sake, Sara, he’s like every woman’s fantasy, isn’t he?” she asks, suddenly realizing the possibilities. “Think of the things you could teach him!”
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