Claire's Career Ch. 02: The Teaching Assistantbyseth_perm©
"Good. Well, boys. I think that's enough on breasts." The boys groaned in disappointment. "Let's discuss the vagina instead, shall we?"
All three pupils immediately perked up and stared at Claire.
Amir spoke up first again, "Sir, can we see Ms. Bell's vagina?"
Claire eyes widened at the guileless nature of the question, her eyes flicking to Mr. Forsythe in panic. He wouldn't agree, would he?
"Hmm, well, I suppose we're lucky to have Ms. Bell with us and it's rare you get the chance for such a practical examination. OK, then. Michael, please go and get the blanket at the top of the cupboard in the office. We can lay it on this bench for her to lie back on comfortably. Ms. Bell, if you wouldn't mind..." Mr. Forsythe seemed utterly oblivious to the fact he was asking Claire to show her pussy to three schoolboys.
Claire's hands automatically went to the side of her skirt to unzip it. She had to keep reminding herself this was nothing more than a lesson and that she needed to treat it like any other, The fact that she happened to be the subject of study, or rather certain parts of her lovely young lush body, was neither her nor there.
Once more she regretted her choice of underwear today. Her panties matched her bra, black and lacy cut high on her hips. She was also wearing hold-ups along with patent black stilettos.
Mr. Forsythe paused briefly as he saw her standing there, his eyes widening slightly. He cleared his throat before saying, "If you could remove your underclothing, Ms. Bell, that would be splendid but feel free to leave on your shoes. The extra height will help you hop up onto the bench.
Claire pulled her knickers off quickly lifted herself onto the bench that Michael had kindly covered with a blanket. She looked around at the three boys who seemed flushed and uncomfortable but were all standing close, before lying back and allowing her legs to fall open as nonchalantly as she could.
There was a lot more swearing from around her as her thighs parted to reveal her pussy, with its tidy thatch of bright red hair and its glistening pink lips. She couldn't see exactly who it was but there was a lot more cursing and a series of amazed gasps as the boys looked upon their first ever cunt. She even had the impression that maybe Mr. Forsythe might have let out some sort of exclamation.
However it wasn't long before he was back into his lecturing tone as he pointed out different parts of her genitalia. His touch wasn't as unexpected as before but still caused her to start as he prodded and poked.
"Here we have the inner and outer labia, and here, respectively, the openings to the urethra and the vagina just above the anus. And here under this little hood is the clitoris." He began to rub her clit in a circular motion causing her to groan involuntarily. "And you notice that Ms. Bell's immediate physiological response is a moistening here at the main, er, aperture in order to facilitate penetration by an erect penis."
Claire tensed further as he slid his finger up and down her open lips and then squeaked involuntarily as he slid a finger into her.
"As you can see my finger slides in nice and smoothly," he commented before withdrawing. "OK, who's first to have a feel?"
The boys jockeyed for position and Claire lifted her head to see Charles grinning between her thighs as he looked up first at her and then down to her pussy, inches from his face.
"Oooh," she squealed as Charles pushed two of his fingers straight up her cunt.
"Fuck, she's tight," he murmured as he moved his fingers in and out before parting her lips for a better look. Claire suppressed another grunt.
"That's enough, Charles," Mr. Forsythe ordered. Charles gave her clit a perfunctory flick before stepping back to allow Michael access. He looked her in the eye as he licked his fingers clean.
Michael touched everything in his meticulous fashion, even fingering her bumhole for a few seconds, before yielding to Amir.
Amir's touch was more tentative. He slowly slid his left index finger into her pussy and then used his right to gently rub her clit. Claire couldn't help let out a moan, "Oooh, Amir!"
When the school bell rang and Mr. Forsythe told him to stop, Claire was embarrassed that she was actually disappointed. She was supposed to remain professionally detached and she most certainly shouldn't have been enjoying the sensation induced by being a model in what was, after all, only an anatomy lesson!
"Right, boys. Off you go and you homework is read chapter 15 on Reproduction," Mr. Forsythe ordered.
Claire sat up as the boys reluctantly left the room, their satchels held awkwardly in front of them, all staring hard, keen for a last chance to have a good look at her curvaceous yet lithe naked body. Then they all rushed off towards the lavatory block.
"Well, I think that well, don't you, Claire?" Mr. Forsythe said, rubbing his hands after the door had closed behind the boys.
"Erm, yes, I suppose so," Claire replied, still flushed from the experience. She stood and gathered her clothes.
"Actually, Claire, a lack of clothing might be appropriate in something I'd like you to help me with, if you don't mind."
"Come with me my dear to the office, we have a free lesson and won't be disturbed. Bring your clothes with you but don't put them on yet."
Claire followed him into the office, holding her blouse and skirt in front of her.
Mr. Forsythe sat down in his chair in the cramped office. "Claire, next week, as you maybe heard we will be studying the reproductive system with the boys and I have a special request of you."
"OK, Mr. Forsythe, I mean, Edward. What do you want me to do?"
"I would like for the boys to look at sperm under the microscope and I need you to source some for me."
Claire was shocked but tried not to look surprised at what was obviously a run-of-the mill request, at least to judge from Mr. Forsythe's blasé expression. "Oh, right. Yes. Of course. Where can I get sperm?"
"Well, you'll have to harvest it from a willing volunteer, I suppose."
"Oh, OK. Maybe I could get some from my boyfriend before I come in," she suggested.
"No, I'm afraid it will need to be absolutely fresh so that we can observe motility," he answered.
"Well, I'm not sure whom else to ask?" Claire racked her brains before she came up with an idea. "Oh, Mr. Forsythe, what about you?" she asked brightly.
Mr. Forsythe deliberated. "Yes, I do suppose that's the best option. I had considered that that might be the case hence my request for you to remain naked. I need you to practise collecting the semen and getting it into a test tube and onto some glass slides. Now's as good a time as any for you to try out your, um, technique. I thought it best you remain nude so as to avoid getting your clothes dirty in case of any accidents."
"Oh, thanks for being so considerate, Mr. Forsythe," Claire said gratefully. She felt pleased that she now understood what needed to be done and felt confident that, with her past experience, she would be able to do a good job. But then she had a vision of what Danny would say. "So I wouldn't be actually, um, masturbating you as such?"
"Goodness no! Not at all that would be entirely wrong. This is just preparation for an experiment, much like gathering any other ingredients or materials."
Claire felt reassured. This was just a part of her job, nothing more. "Oh, OK then. Er well shall I just um, take out your, um, your..."
Claire blushed. "Yes. So shall I just take it out and do it now?"
"Yes, do go ahead. You'll find test tubes and slides in the rack over there. Yes, that's right. Now if you don't mind slipping under the desk, I can go ahead with some marking that I have to get done today while you collect the, er, sample."
Comforted by his dispassionate attitude, she grabbed a test tube and got onto her hands and knees before shuffling in front of him, under his desk.
Claire looked at Mr. Forsythe's trouser crotch, which seemed to be enclosing a considerable bulge. Carefully she reached out and tentatively touched his zipper; he started slightly before relaxing. She took a breath, determined to do a good job, and unzipped him before sliding her hand into his fly. After a little awkward rummaging she pulled down his y-fronts slightly before grabbing hold of his cock and pulling it out.
Claire had never seen, let alone touched, a penis as old as Mr. Forsythe's. It was a curious grey-pink colour, veined and wrinkled, of average size and semi-erect already; the hair above it was as silver as that on his head. It smelt strongly of urine.
She was pleased that he was already getting hard. She had been worried that, at his advanced age, he might not be able to get it up easily and that she would have to be more creative to complete her task but it looked like he was almost ready to go.
She began to toss him gently with her right hand; as she gained confidence and as his erection lengthened and firmed, she sped up, focused on making him ejaculate quickly and efficiently.
"Is that OK, Mr. Forsythe?" she asked, intent on making sure he was happy with her performance.
"Oh, yes, Claire. That's really absolutely fine," he replied from above the desk.
"Let me know when you're getting close," she said.
As Claire wanked him, she thought it was weird that, despite the fact that she had masturbated many men in the past, she had never done so when she couldn't see a reaction to what she was doing. She imagined that Mr. Forsythe was hardly even noticing her efforts as he seemed to be silently caught up in his marking.
Twenty minutes later, Claire's hands were tired. She had put the test tube down carefully and switched hands several times, amazed at Mr. Forsythe's stamina. Perhaps it was his age that had either blessed or cursed him depending on how you looked at it.
She considered what to do. Whatever the situation, she was determined that she would not give up. He had given her a task to fulfil and she was resolute about completing it successfully. She decided to use her initiative.
"Mr. Forsythe, it's taking longer than I thought. I'm going to try something a bit different to see if it helps," she called up to him.
Trying to ignore the smell she leaned forward and gave the end of his cock a sticky kiss with her pink-lipsticked lips. She leant back as she heard some muffled cursing and a thump from above her.
"Are you OK, Mr. Forsythe?"
"Er, um, yes, don't worry. Just made a mistake in my marking. Please continue. I think we're almost there," he replied unsteadily.
Shrugging, Claire took his glans in her mouth and slurped for a few seconds before spitting a foul mouthful of saliva into the wastepaper basket under the desk. She did this a couple more times before she was entirely satisfied that his cock was clean enough to work on properly. And then she began to suck.
Applying as much suction as possibly could, Claire slowly slid her pursed mouth up and down his ugly wrinkled dick, doing her best to ignore the smell. She pulled out his craggy grey scrotum and massaged his surprisingly plump full balls and wrapped her delicate hand around his shaft moving it up and down in time with her lips.
After some sustained diligence, she could taste a distinctive saltiness half-way up her tongue. She pulled back slightly. "Are you getting close, Mr. Forsythe?" she asked, recognising his pre-orgasmic exudations.
"Um, what? Oh, erm, no, not yet, my dear. Sorry, I was thinking about this exercise. Do continue, please," he said in his polite tone.
Claire was puzzled but continued to bob and suck as intensely as she could.
She was on a down stroke, her mouth full of cock and her lips pressed against his wiry grey pubes, when he came. She could feel his thick warm jism squirting down her throat. She pulled up as quickly as she could but several more spurts spat across her tongue before she could pick up the test tube.
Absentmindedly she swallowed what was in her mouth and groaned in frustration as she managed to wipe barely a dribble off the end of his knob and into the tube.
"Oh, Mr. Forsythe, I've only got a little bit. I swallowed most of it accidentally," she said. "I didn't know whether I could spit it in or if it had to come directly from your penis."
"You did the right thing in swallowing what was in your mouth. It's crucial that it's as, um, as fresh as possible and you must always gather it directly from source. It is I however who must say sorry to you, my dear. As you can imagine it's been a long time since my sperm has been, um, harvested. Mrs. Forsythe and I have long stopped, um, engaging in such activities. I didn't recognise the pre-ejaculatory feeling in time to warn you," he said apologetically.
Feeling slightly sorry for him, Claire zipped him up and emerged, still naked, from under the desk before replying, "Oh that's OK. How about I try again later? We've got until next week, haven't we, to get it right? I really want to do this perfectly."
Mr. Forsythe held one of her hands in his and patted it affectionately. "That really would be most satisfactory, my dear."
Over the rest of the week, Claire practised collecting Mr. Forsythe's spunk three times a day, first thing in the morning, after lunch and at just before she left for the evening. It took a few goes before she was timing his orgasm well enough to get most of his cum straight into the test tube. It took around forty minutes from start to finish, just using her mouth and hands to the best of her ability when she was under the desk. However when she persuaded him to defer his marking until after she had finished so that she could do it in the open office, with her big green eyes and enormous plump tits visible, she was able to shave off a good ten minutes.
And when without thinking, she had guided his hands to fondle and tweak her enormous red-nippled boobs, he had came in around twenty-five minutes. From then on, she always made sure he was playing with her tits during her collection practise.
On the day of the big lesson, things went perfectly. Half an hour before the lesson was due to begin, Claire stripped off her top and bra and knelt down between Mr. Forsythe's legs. Exactly twenty-seven minutes later, he came in her mouth while pulling firmly on her nipples but Claire was quick enough to get most of his spunk into the test tube.
When the boys came in, each had a glass slide with semen smeared onto, ready for examination under the microscope.
The lesson went well, although she had to ignore the boys more than once when they asked where the sperm had come from.
At the end of the lesson, Claire was clearing up when she noticed Charles had stayed behind to talk to Mr. Forsythe in a rather excited manner. Although she couldn't hear what he was saying, she didn't think it odd – they were after all related as well as being teacher and pupil. As she approached the office, Charles left, giving her big smirk as he walked past.
Later that afternoon, Mr. Forsythe seemed a little agitated.
"Are you OK, Edward?" Claire asked in concern.
"Oh, yes, I'm fine really. It's just that I have experienced an unfortunate physiological response," he gestured to his crotch. "As you can see I have an erection. I think this might be because for the past week you have been collecting semen from me like clockwork at this time each day. In short, my body is responding to the routine we've developed. And of course, having missed the usual post-lunch session has exacerbated the situation."
"Oh, dear," Claire said sympathetically. She had an idea. "Well perhaps I can just go ahead as usual. Will we be looking at sperm another time?"
"Well, yes, next term with the fifth form."
"Oh great." Claire clapped her hands girlishly. "I can stay in practice as well as helping you feel better. Go on, Mr. Forsythe, please let me," she pleaded.
"Well, I suppose, it does make sense," he agreed.
Pleased at her own initiative, Claire smiled as she stripped to the waist and got down on her knees.
Almost half an hour later, Claire realised she had forgotten the test tube. She decided to keep going, hoping that Mr. Forsythe wouldn't notice and indeed all he did after filling her mouth with copious amounts of spunk was to sigh heavily before zipping himself up and thanking her. Claire swallowed secretly and smiled to herself at his absentmindedness.
The next morning, after another early blowjob, Mr. Forsythe sat Claire down to talk to her. "Claire, in today's lesson with the sixth form, as part of our studies of the reproductive system, we will be covering Sexual Education," he intoned.
"But don't all students need to learn about it? Not just Biology ones, I mean," Claire asked in a puzzled tone.
Mr. Forsythe coughed. "Well, er, yes, that's quite right and they'll have done so a few years ago. But as part of the advanced syllabus, these students need to have a thorough and practical understanding. After all they might go on to be medical students for instance and so need to understand all about sex."
"Oh, of course. That makes a lot of sense, really," Claire replied.
"Now I must ask you to remain completely professional in the lesson. As you can imagine the boys will find it a bit embarrassing to discuss. None of them, as far as I know, have had a girlfriend so they will feel a bit uncomfortable."
Claire had no doubt that none of the boys had ever had girlfriends – they were all somewhat geeky and unattractive. She listened as he continued.
"However as professionals, you and I must be very matter-of-fact and take it all in our strides."
"Oh, of course, Mr. Forsythe. Thanks so much for letting me help you with this."
"The pleasure is all mine, my dear," he smiled.
The lesson was scheduled for the whole afternoon after lunch. When Claire and Mr. Forsythe returned to their office a quarter of an hour before it was due to start, she knelt down in front of him without a word, ready to service him with her mouth almost automatically.
But Mr. Forsythe stopped her. "Actually, Claire. I've got an idea. I was going to run through different types of sexual interaction with the boys including oral, vaginal and even anal. Why don't we give them a practical demonstration of oral sex?" he suggested in his kind manner.
"Erm. You want me to suck you off in front of the boys?" Claire asked unsurely.
"Well, of course what you're actually doing is practising harvesting my sperm. I admit, however, that to the untrained observer it is very similar to fellatio and so it would be an excellent way of killing two birds with one stone, as it were."
"Oh, well. If you think it's important to their learning then OK. I'm just a bit worried in case they tell anyone though and they get the wrong impression," Claire said.
"I can assure you that they wouldn't do so. I have already had a talk with them individually about some of the more, um, sensitive subjects we have covered and they fully understand that if they are in any way indiscreet, they would lose the privilege of any continued practical learning."
"Oh, thanks, Mr. Forsythe, I mean, Edward. It's just that my boyfriend isn't in very familiar with teaching methods so he I don't think he'd really understand. I wouldn't want him to find out."
"No fear of that, my dear," Mr. Forsythe said as he patted her hand.
The first hour of the lesson consisted of Mr. Forsythe instructing the boys on how important it was to practise sex safely. Claire noticed that they boys kept glancing up at her however instead of paying attention to his admittedly soporific toned lecturing. Charles made her feel uncomfortable with his knowing hungry gaze while Michael looked at her as if she were the subject of some sort of experiment. She began to regret wearing a clingy black top, a tight red short skirt, stockings and heels that she knew showed off her figure extremely well.