The Biology area was at the far end of the school and was composed of a small office and a laboratory in a standalone building. Rather worryingly for Claire, the lab walls were covered in complicated scientific posters showing diagrams of various biological systems and odd charts covered in Latin nomenclature.
“Er, Mr. Forsythe?” she interrupted tentatively as he was taking her around the facility.
“Please call me Edward, at least when we’re not in front of the children,” he replied.
“Oh, yes, Edward. Are you sure I’ll really be able to help you? I really don’t know anything about Biology. I’ll work really hard for you but I’m worried I won’t be able to do the job.”
Mr. Forsythe clasped her hands in his own. “Claire, Claire, Claire. You really mustn’t worry. You see I’ve run this department by myself for many years. But I’m getting old and I could do with some fresh young blood to help me set up some of the experiments and do my admin. You honestly won’t require any specialist knowledge. Just a positive attitude and a willing youthful body.” He leant in close to her and smiled, reeking of stale tobacco and cabbage and showing her his yellow misshapen teeth.
Doing her best to ignore his peculiar elderly pong, Claire smiled back sweetly. “Oh thank you so much, Mr. Forsythe, I mean, Edward,” she said eagerly. “I promise I’ll do my absolute best to please you! I’m really excited by this opportunity and I promise I’ll do anything to repay your faith in me.”
“I’m sure you will, my dear, I’m sure you will,” he replied patting her hand familiarly.
Over the next two weeks, Claire settled into her role reasonably well.
Mr. Forsythe was very precise with his instructions and she was generally able to follow them easily enough. She spent an awful lot of time helping with photocopying and other administration as well as helping him set up various practical experiments for the pupils.
Also bearing Danny’s admonitions in mind, she tended to avoid the staff room and the younger male teachers who in particular had seemed to take a liking to her.
The boys themselves were generally pleasant: in fact she found herself very popular with them particularly when any of them had been in a scrape and needed a hug until they felt better.
Not to say that they didn’t sometimes take minor liberties she realised after picking up yet another dropped pencil that maybe some of the boys were trying to look up her skirt to glimpse her stocking tops and that she needed to bend at the knees and not just at the waist.
But it was fair to say that on the whole she got on well with them.
The only exceptions to this were the three eldest boys in the sixth form, doing Biology ‘A’-level, or rather one of them in particular. This wasn’t necessarily because of their age, they were all eighteen, but rather because the difficult boy, Charles, happened to be Mr. Forsythe’s great-nephew and consequently seemed to feel he could be overly familiar with her.
A couple of times as she had walked past him, he had squeezed her splendid firm bottom and even groped her oversized tits. Of course she had scolded him but when he had persisted she had taken her complaint to Mr. Forsythe.
Mr. Forsythe was astonished at her accusation. “Really! This is awful. What exactly did he do to you?”
“He squeezed my bottom with both his hands! He’s done it a couple of times before,” she said, turning to show him her lovely arse, snugly encased in a cream skirt.
Rather unexpectedly, Mr. Forsythe reached out have a feel himself. “Did he do it like this?” he asked, taking a buttock in each of his wrinkled hands.
“Oh!” Claire squealed in surprise. Mr. Forsythe had always been very tactile with her but he had never touched her inappropriately before. Looking at the concerned expression on his face though, she realised he was just trying to understand what had happened.
“Erm, no, he was a lot firmer,” she continued looking back over her shoulder at him. “Ooh! Yes that’s it, just like that.”
Mr. Forsythe shook his head although, absentmindedly, he continued to massage her taut full bum. “Oh, that really is most regrettable, Claire. I have to apologise on his behalf.”
“And he even touched my breasts!” Claire said with even more indignation.
“Oh, dear, no. And how did he do that?”
Claire turned around taking his hands and putting them on her big sexy boobs. “He squeezed them when I was holding a rack of test tubes in each hand so I couldn’t stop him!”
“What like this?” Mr. Forsythe asked, taking a good handful of each and groping them vigorously,
“Well, no maybe a bit more gently and he didn’t pinch my nipples like you’re doing now,” she replied.
Mr. Forsythe continued to tweak and fondle her bosom while he considered.
“Claire, this is really is completely indefensible. I can only apologise for such appalling behaviour. I shall have a word with Charles as well as the other two boys and let them know such actions are inexcusable.”
“Oh thanks, Mr. Forsythe,” Claire replied gratefully as he finally let go of her tits.
“Please, it’s Edward. I hope you can forgive him. At that age, young men are easily distracted by a beautiful young woman. It’s entirely hormonal.”
Claire blushed at his compliment but said she would indeed forgive him.
Mr. Forsythe talk to the boys obviously worked because the groping stopped immediately and, although she could feel their eyes on her body when she was in the lab with them, it was no worse than she experienced whenever she was in the presence of a man.
Overall she felt Danny would have been happy with the way the whole incident was handled but decided not to tell him just in case he got the wrong end of the stick.
A week later, Claire was assisting Mr. Forsythe in another lesson with the three boys. They were covering Anatomy and were discussing the female body.
“But, sir, I don’t understand,” said Amir, a small Indian boy who looked significantly younger than his real age. “What exactly are boobs made of?” he asked pointing at a cross section diagram of a woman’s chest in profile.
“Breasts, boy. I’ll not have unsuitable language in my class and in the presence of a lady!” Mr. Forsythe interjected angrily.
“Sorry, sir,” Amir said although Claire could see him giggling behind his hand.