Incest My Virgin Nephew

[neerathemall]

"See you tomorrow." I spend my entire shift at the hospital thinking about Jeremy's problem. During my break, I talk to our resident speech therapist about how to overcome stuttering problems. By the time my shift is over, I've got a strategy for Jeremy that just might work but I figure I better run it by my sister. I e-mail her from the hospital computer and arrange to meet her for breakfast when I get off.

"Well, the good news is, he's not gay," I tell my sister over coffee in the hospital coffee shop. My shift just ended and Jenny came by after dropping Jeremy off at school.
"Thank heaven," she says with a sigh of relief. "Not that we wouldn't have been supportive but it's a cruel world out there when you're different," she smiles. "You said that was the good news, does that mean there's bad news?" I tell her about Jeremy's stuttering problem as delicately as I can but she just cuts to the chase.
"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 everyday 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 he looks just like his daddy and I'm talking 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 everyday 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.

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