How to Cure a Stutter

In my first story I told you about how I discovered that I enjoyed being seen. Well, this story happened just over a year later.

By then my boyfriend and I had been on another vacation and I had shown off again, topless on the beach, bikini bottom pulled into my bum cheeks to look like a thong or pulled low to uncover half my bottom whilst on a crowded beach and I had also shown off again on the hotel balcony. It was fun but didn't reach the excitement of our first time and as such doesn't warrant writing about. All it does for this story is confirm that Sean, my boyfriend, liked me to show off and I liked to be shown off.

I was still fairly tanned from our second vacation together when Rob, an old school friend of my boyfriend, starting turning up at our apartment.

Back in school Rob was one of those unfortunate teenagers whose hormonal changes brought with it bad odor, spots and sweat! Even before those teenage changes, my boyfriend told me he was not a popular kid, and he still wasn't now. Actually, he was not attractive at all, slightly flat footed and pudgy, bad skin and greasy hair, spoke with a slight stammer and almost never managed to say more than one syllable words to any girl. Whether he found them attractive or not, girls, to Rob, were from another planet.

He had become a regular visitor to the flat, as well as meeting him a few times at the pub, and even though he was becoming quite relaxed around me and managed to hold a few conversations with Sean while I was around I have to say he was just simply an unattractive guy with no personality.

Rob was an ugly duckling, destined to turn into a duck-billed platypus rather than a swan!

Rob and my boyfriend became "friends" because of geography. They lived close to each other but went to a school about 5-6 miles. My boyfriend was really good at sports and a bit of a school hero, Rob was prime material for bullying. So Rob used to 'hide' near the teacher on playground duty at the end of the day and wait for Sean to finish class, then Rob would latch onto him and walk to the bus stop, knowing no one would bully him if he was with Sean.

Since school Sean started playing bass in a rock band and Rob decided he wanted to do the same (I wondered if that was a bit of hero worship, trying to be like the boy that saved him from getting beaten up by the bullies). Anyway, Rob came to the apartment and had my BF show him some riffs and as time went on Rob became more comfortable with me being around.

I was in my mid twenties, 2 years older than Sean and Rob was a year younger, so that would make Rob about 21 and he still hadn't had a serious girlfriend, in fact I'm not sure he had ever had any. He would talk about a girlfriend but no one ever met her or saw him with her and if we were at the pub and talking to other girls he would sit in a corner eyes flitting up and down their bodies but not saying a word. In short nearly all the girls we spoke to said he creeped them out – looking at their bodies and never speaking whilst breaking out into a sweat if any of them showed cleavage or wore a short skirt. Soon women were thinking twice about coming to talk to us if Rob was in tow.

My boyfriend would just say that Rob was harmless and he would have a word with him and tell him to cool it.

Not long after Sean promised to talk to Rob about his pervy manner with girls, my boyfriend's band was playing a gig but I couldn't go, I can't even remember why, may be I didn't get off work early enough to travel with them, but that's not important. The thing was that Rob called at the apartment looking for Sean. Thinking back, I can't believe Rob didn't know that Sean's band was playing that night and so I would be on my own. In hindsight, I suspect he had really called to see me.

I invited him in. I didn't think anything of it, he was a constant visitor and although he still looked at me the same way he looked at the other girls he was so used to me that he seemed to get over his awkwardness and become more relaxed around me.

I was drinking wine, I'd already had a couple of glasses and so I offered Rob a glass and refilled my own. I wasn't going out so I had already taken my work clothes off and was wearing just my panties and a warm bathrobe with a tie around the middle, no buttons.

I bent at the waist to put my wine glass on the knee-height coffee table. This meant I had leaned forward to put the glass down, facing Rob and then lowered myself to the sofa. I looked across at Rob and I could see from his eyes that he must have had a very good cleavage view as I leant forward to put my glass on the low table. He was staring at my chest area and had almost shriveled into the back his chair. He was in full creep mode, just like he'd get in the pub when he was staring at the other girls.

I let it go and tried to make conversation, normal stuff, asking him what he had been up to, how his girlfriend was or how his job was going. Things I wasn't in the slightest bit interested in, but thought might just illicit a conversation from him, instead he reverted to a series of mono-syllabic responses. I quickly ran out of conversational openers and reached for my wine glass, leaning forward to do so.

Rob's eyes immediately became glued to my chest, to the slight swell of the bathrobe as it bowed out when I moved.

I looked down and noting that nothing was actually showing, well, perhaps just the slightest hint of cleavage, in fact, far less was showing than if I was dressed in a loose low V-neck T-shirt, and yet his eyes were intensely riveted to my chest, his dry lips welcoming the tip of his tongue as it poked out and slithered across his lips to lubricate them, which gave him an even more pervy appearance. I decided to confront him.

"Are you staring at my boobs, Rob?"

Rob's eyes showed panic, they sprang up to my face as if attached to a strong spring coil and he began a stuttering denial.

"Didn't Sean tell you to cool it with staring at girls' bodies?" I said, cutting him off in mid-stutter

"Er, yes." He said, turning red as he gazed at his feet that were uncomfortably tapping out a nervous rhythm on the carpet.

"You do know that no girl likes to be stared at in the way you stare." I continued "It makes them feel uneasy. You'd be much better off learning to look them in the eye and talk normally than to stare at their tits and not say a word!"

"yes, I-I know." He managed to say whilst holding his breath at the same time.

"So what's the problem?"

Talking was painful for him and after a lot of prompting from me and stuttering and blushing and gasping for air from him, I managed to find out that he had never seen a naked woman, in the flesh, not even topless, and that he couldn't help himself. He kept telling himself not to stare, but half the time didn't realize he was doing it. His frustration and fascination with women's flesh was just too overpowering for him.

Can you believe that I actually began to feel sorry for him! I told him that he should have come on vacation with us and seen all the topless girls on the beach.

His head jerked up showing interest in a subject at last. He stuttered a little as he asked me if a lot of women chose to go topless and I told him more were topless than weren't. Then he seemed to retreat into his shell and I wondered if he was trying to imagine a beach full of partially naked women, until he surprised me by suddenly asking me a direct question.

"D-d-d-did you, you know, g-go t-t-t-t-topless?"

I was taken aback by the question. I didn't know how to answer. If I said yes I knew he would be imagining me topless and I had only started the conversation to stop him looking at me as if he was undressing me, but here we were talking about my body and whether I showed it off to all and sundry on the beach in Europe. I should have just lied and said 'no' but somehow it didn't occur to me to lie, instead I tried to deflect the question by asking him if he had seen a tan line when he looked down my robe.

Why didn't I think that that was more personal and embarrassing than just saying 'yes?'

Rob shyly told me that he hadn't seen anything at all, the neckline had billowed, but not enough to see anything and it was an automatic reaction to look and he was sorry. Or at least, I think that is what he was trying to say.

He looked so weak and vulnerable that my heart went out to him. I don't mean I suddenly found him attractive or wanted to do anything with him, God, no! But I wanted to help him get past his awkwardness because I could tell that while it seemed like he was just letching disgustingly after the women he met, he was, in fact, the one suffering. He was desperate to have contact with the opposite sex, any contact. A talk, a wave, a smile ... he just didn't know how.

Perhaps the fact that I had already drunk over two glasses of wine without eating anything influenced my decision, but I decided to try to help.

I told him I was going to reach for my glass again and that I wanted him to look ONLY at my face.

I slowly leant forward to reach down for my glass. I was looking at the glass, my bathrobe and Rob, one after the other in quick succession. I was still covered and totally decent but Rob couldn't help himself he looked, no stared, at my chest, I cleared my throat dramatically as a reminder of where he was supposed to be looking and again his spring loaded eyes shot up to meet my eyes. I decided to hold my position, leaning forward to reach for my glass and while I was in that position, and had forced Rob to look at my face, said to him,

"See, you can look at my face, even when I lean forward."

Unfortunately, he couldn't. I was only halfway through my sentence when his eyes dipped down to my chest area and then back up to my eyes again.

I straightened up and laughed "well may be you can't!"

He muttered a sorry and cast his eyes down. I thought he was just looking down in a deflated attitude again until I realized that one of the sides of my bathrobe had opened and was showing some naked thigh. Again nothing outrageous, I wore mini skirts that showed more than I was showing now, but he couldn't take his eyes off of my leg.

"What are you looking at? I said firmly. Rob's eyes shot up again as he replied "nothing!"

"Were you looking at my legs?

"No!"

"The truth!"

He didn't answer but this time slumped back in the chair eyes downcast and definitely NOT seeing anything at all, this time he was deflated ... and defeated.

"Look Rob," I said, not sure what I was about to say, "you really have to try to get over your awkwardness around women or you will never get to see one naked. You just come across as a perv when you stare and refuse to talk, so no one will want to go out with you." I paused for effect. He remained shriveled in his chair, refusing to make eye contact with me.

"You're normally OK around me though, aren't you?" I asked.

He made some noises that I took to mean 'yes'.

"So what's different tonight? Is it because Sean's not here?" I asked. He shrugged "I want to help but you have to tell me what I can do to help."

Rob just shrugged.

"Is it because you have never seen a naked woman?" I asked "Is that why you can't control where you look?"

Rob shrugged again

"Do you want to see me naked? Is that what's different tonight? Do you want to see my tits?"

Rob stared at his feet too shy or embarrassed to do or say anything

"Rob, look at me" I said in a way that commanded him to look up "you mustn't tell anyone, ever! This will be between just you and me, agreed?"

Of course he agreed even though he didn't know what he was agreeing to.

"OK." I said. I sat up and told Rob that it was ok to look. I loosened the tie around the bathrobe, opened the bathrobe slightly before tightening the tie again. I had opened the robe enough for it to show flesh all the way down to the tie around my waist. I didn't pull the sides apart enough to show much, but he could definitely see the swell of my breasts, the exposure was no where near my nipples and in truth there are many Evening Dresses that show a lot more, nevertheless, Rob's eyes were almost bulging.

"OK Rob," I continued "you can stare all you like, look for tan lines and decide whether I went topless or not on the beach, hell, imagine me lying on a sandy beach topless if you want to but you have to talk to me, normally."

He glanced up at my face without managing to utter a sound, I think he wanted to agree but couldn't.

"It's alright, Rob, I don't care if you never look anywhere else but at my tits and you can fantasize all you want about me, but the idea is that you manage to see this part of my body and still hold a normal conversation about normal things. Is that clear?" I asked "You have 15 minutes, but after that you have to stop looking at my tits and for the next 15 minutes talk normally while only looking at my face, if you can manage the second 15 minutes of not looking anywhere but my face, I will show you more, but if you even glance down, the show's over."

Rob stammered in disbelief "S-s-so, 15 minutes I- I- I can look all I l-l-like, then 15 m-m-m-minutes m-more, not l-look and you w-will sh-sh-show me your t-t-t-tits!"

Wait a minute, had I just said that? I hadn't meant that. I hadn't meant to imply that I would show him my boobs, in my mind I just thought I'd let the robe gape open a bit more, may be show him my legs and panties.

"And talk normally." I said, keen not to discourage him, after all, it was I who decided to use my body as an incentive scheme, but then, I added, as an after thought and safety net for me "...no stuttering!"

Ha! That was it, I was safe, no way could he manage that. I knew that I wouldn't have to show him anything more because I knew it would be too much for him talk normally while I was semi-exposed. No way would he be able to not look and not stammer. I was safe!

The next few minutes were in silence with Rob taking in every goosebump on my flesh as I let him stare at my body, or the slither down my middle that was exposed. I was becoming very aware of my small boobs rising and falling with my breath and even though it was just a tiny part of the inner swell of my small boobs, in fact no more than he would see if I was wearing a bikini, I began to feel the same excitement I had felt showing my body to the older German voyeur during the first vacation.

I had not been attracted to the German man and I certainly wasn't attracted to Rob, but the naughtiness of letting him stare at my flesh was getting to me and I was even beginning to hope that he would be able to avoid looking at my breasts for the second 15 minutes, forcing me to expose more of myself.

I suddenly realized that we weren't talking, he was looking, letching, in silence and secondly, I had forgotten to time the exposure.

I began to make conversation and he tried to talk back, but his stutter was worse than normal, when relaxed he was almost stutter free, we battled on talking but he couldn't relax. I gave him 15 minutes regardless of the extra minutes he had from the start and told him his time was up. Now his task was to, only, look at my face. He immediately looked up at my face and if anything his stare was even more intense as he desperately tried to force himself to look at my face.

We talked, well he was still tense and stuttering but he hadn't looked anywhere but my face for about 2 minutes when I leant forward to get my wine glass and as an automatic response he looked down to check out my boobs in the loose robe before realizing and forcing his eyes up, hoping I hadn't noticed. But I had.

"Oh Rob, you looked!" I think he tried to tell me it wasn't fair because I moved. But was really struggling to get the words out.

I told him to take a deep breath and tell me what he had seen when I reached for my drink. I think it was slowly dawning on him that I hadn't covered up and the show was still on. He tried to tell me he didn't see anything, but by now I was enjoying teasing him.

"You mean the robe didn't move enough for you to see my nipples?"

"N-n-no."

"Say 'nipples' Rob. I want you to talk about my tits and tell me how you'd like to see my nipples or if you did see them when I leant forward, tell me. Don't be embarrassed just tell me if you saw them, but try not to stutter and look at me, including my face, when you tell me."

Rob couldn't talk.

Looking back I find it hard to believe I was doing what I was doing. May be it was the wine, but I don't think I was drunk, just relaxed enough to shed my inhibitions and stupid enough to convince myself that I was doing good, offering Rob shock therapy.

I slid my right hand inside my bath robe and covered my left boob completely with it, then with my left hand I tugged the bathrobe away, I was covering myself with my hand so he really couldn't see anything but the action of pulling my robe to the side, even if my right hand covered my boob seemed a very big step.

"Do you like my small titties, Rob?"

Rob's eyes were definitely glued to my chest now and he tried to speak, but nothing came out.

"Do you want me to take my hand away?"

He nodded a 'yes.'

"You have to talk, talk normally, no stutter." I said firmly. A miracle, he looked up at my face when he heard that, but the look on his face seemed to be one of great frustration. It seemed to say that he wanted to but knew it would be impossible not to stutter and at the same time begging me to relax the rules.

By now I was feeling very turned on, I could feel my hard nipple under the palm of my hand.

I wanted more wine so I replaced the robe to cover my left breast and took my hand away. I didn't, however, tighten the waist belt, leaving the left side of the gown very loose over my body.

He found it very hard to relax as we talked about my tits so I changed the subject, what we talked about was unimportant, but over the next 20-30 minutes I made no attempt to cover myself if I moved I trusted in fate that my nipple wouldn't slide into view. By studying Rob's face I'm pretty certain it didn't.

I began to notice that Rob had stopped stuttering his body seemed less tense and more relaxed and his eyes would look at my face, if not all the time but at least some of the time. I was getting very used to the idea of being partially exposed for my boyfriend's awkward friend and I found myself relaxing too. I leant back into the sofa and crossed my legs without thinking and the sides of the bathrobe fell open exposing both my legs. I glanced down and couldn't see anything more than quite a bit of leg, but Rob's body language tensed again and his eyes seems stuck to my legs

"What can you see?" I asked him.

"I – I can see your p-panties" His stutter hadn't returned totally but just a little, I felt that was progress, not just about the stutter but because he didn't try to lie or avoid the question.

"So, Rob, do you like seeing my panties?" I asked without trying to cover up

He just nodded

"Talk properly." I chided

"W-will you show me m-more if I talk?"

I didn't reply, instead I uncrossed my legs and put both feet on the flat on the ground, but held my knees open by a few inches.

"I – I can't s-see them n-n-now." He said

I opened my knees wider and simply asked "Better?"

"Oh God!" was all he said.

I had to remind him to talk normally about anything and that he had to look at my face every so often. During this conversation, while I held my legs open to him I began thinking about how far I should let this go. I had drunk a few glasses of wine and may be that was clouding my judgment, but, frankly, I was getting into the naughtiness of exposing myself slowly and I knew there was no chance I was about to stop.

I drained my glass and stood up. I told Rob that I needed more wine and did he want more. He said he did want more, I'm not sure what he meant but I leant forward to take his glass from the table and in doing so the left side of the gown billowed out. I am not sure if he saw my nipple but if he didn't it must have been pretty close. I straightened and walked into the kitchen. I had to open another bottle and poured the red liquid into the two glasses, I took a large gulp from mine and topped it up again as I made a big decision. I decided I would undo the knotted tie around my waist so the bathrobe would hang down and trust in fate as to whether my nipples would be exposed as I moved. I did this knowing that I would almost certainly allow my breasts to fall out completely when I leant over to offer him his glass and again when I put my glass down and sat on the sofa. I had decided that when I sat down I would not adjust the gown. If my tits were on display I would leave them exposed.