Anty Sara - S01 E04

2 years ago

Anty Sara - S01 E04

Read Story: SEASON 1 EPISODE 4

“The sexual stimulus that causes your errection. Without the errection 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 t--s, 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 d--n 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 t--s to my awestruck nephew. When he reaches down to help me, his arm brushes against my barely covered n----e 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 p---y 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 t--s 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 f-----g 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 t--s 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 everyday 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 errrection.

“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!