At the time all this happened I was in the upper sixth form and in my last year at school. I got on well with all my fellow students and, being 18, I’d had quite a bit of experience with a number of the girls. I knew how to get a girl interested. A Few compliments about her good looks and figure and she was putty in my hands. As I was elected head boy I suppose I must have had a certain popularity with all my fellow students.
In the middle of the first term, our gymnastics mistress was taken ill and had to leave, so another female teacher was appointed to replace her. She rejoiced in the name of Sophie Roper, was in her early thirties with shoulder length blonde hair and when she took games with the girls dressed in very short tight shorts and a tight T-shirt she looked quite sexy but a bit overweight. Her bust was rather large but she seemed to enjoy jumping about and making it bounce up and down. It was the same old technique as that employed by some of the sixth form girls who wanted to interest a boy. We knew all the signs of course, so it was nothing new to us.
She tried to be one of those women who, to use a modern but rather misleading term, was “empowered”. The real meaning of this word is to have power given to them, but so many use the word to mean just plain “bossy”. It’s a trait in women that puts men off and it puts boys off even more.
After a few weeks something else became apparent to all the boys in the school, namely that, although she was primarily employed to teach girls, her main interest was in boys. Whenever she got the chance she could be seen chatting to groups of them. At first they thought she was just being friendly but it soon transpired that she had ideas that involved more than friendship. From then on the boys tried to avoid her whenever possible but as she took geography as a secondary subject she sometimes taught some of the boys who had no choice but to spend time in her class.
One of her habits whenever she entered a class was to sing out in a loud and cheerful voice “Hello class” to which the class were expected to give an equally cheerful response of “Hello Miss Roper”. The boys often used to say “Miss Groper” but it didn’t seem to register with her.
On several occasions some of the boys came to me, as head boy, to complain that she often bent over them when she was supposed to be looking at their exercise books and would brush her ample breasts against them. Some of them knew this was wrong and were frightened by her behaviour, finding it distasteful, but didn’t want to cause trouble by reporting her to the headmaster.
One day a friend of mine called Gino came to me very upset and told me that while he was alone changing his shoes under one of the trees in the playing field she had stopped to chat to him, then, under the pretence of helping him to balance while pulling on his shoe, she slipped her hand inside his shirt and fondled his chest. Gino was a rather shy retiring boy but had the courage to go to the headmaster to complain. The head called in Miss Roper who denied everything and even said that Gino had made advances to her. The head then told the lad that in future he was to stay away from Miss Roper. He was furious at such cursory treatment by the headmaster and it was then he came to see me.
“Can’t we do something about her Roger,” he pleaded.
It was then that I realised that I would have to take the Groper in hand and do something to protect the lads so, after giving the matter considerable thought, I had a word with a few of my friends in the sixth form and told them of my plan. They agreed to help.
The Groper often came to talk to me on some pretext or other asking how my work was going or about the results of the school football team. If I was ever on the playing field with my shirt off after a game I frequently noticed her hurrying in my direction to “have a chat”. I used to love teasing her by putting my shirt back on well before she arrived.
To start my plan I became rather more “friendly” with her when we talked. On one occasion she asked whether I had a regular girl friend and whether I was going out with anyone at the moment. I was, but as I wanted to get her interested I said wasn’t. It worked. She came closer to me.
“Can’t imagine why a handsome guy like you, Roger, doesn’t have a regular. I know a lot of the girls fancy you.”
“Well,” I replied, “they’re OK but most of them don’t seem to have had much experience with boys. They seem to be a bit immature.”
At this she brightened up considerably and stuck her chest out even more. I knew the signs. Females are never subtle. She was hooked! I pretended to be hot in the sun and undid the top two buttons of my shirt and flapped the front about as though cooling down. Her eyes suveyed my chest.
“Whew, this sun is really hot,” I said. “I think I’ll go and sit under that tree for a bit.”
“What a good idea,” she replied. “Do you mind if i join you, Roger?”
“Not at all Miss Roper. You look as though you need to cool off too.” There was a double meaning to this but she didn’t seem to notice.
I sat with my back against the tree and she sat beside me just touching my arm.
“I imagine you like the sun,” she said. “You’ve got a lovely brown tan. And with your gorgeous curly brown hair it suits you.” Things were going better than I’d hoped. “Do you do much sunbathing Roger?”
“Quite a bit, but not in long doses. I prefer to get brown, not red.”
“Very wise too,” she responded. “You’re not only good looking, you’re intelligent.” She was pouring on the compliments now and I realised my plan was going to be easier than I’d thought.
“I expect you sunbathe in your garden,” she commented.
This gave me a great opportunity to lead her on. “Some of the time Miss. But the garden is overlooked by the neighbours and as I like to get an all-over tan I often go down to a place along the beach among the rocks. It’s quite a walk to get there so it’s private enough for me to sunbathe nude.”
I saw her swallow quickly and she croaked a bit as she asked, “Do you mean those tall rocks down towards the old lighthouse or the ones at the other end of the beach?”
“The ones at the lighthouse end,” I replied. I knew I’d achieved part one of my plan. Part two was soon to follow. I looked at my watch. “Gosh! Miss Roper, Is that the time? I’ve got a French lesson in three minutes. I’d better dash.”
I left her sitting under the tree looking very pleased with herself. Little did she know what I had in store for her.
I next had a meeting on the beach with several of the older boys who had volunteered to help me. I told them of what I had said to the Groper and that she was now well and truly on the hook. I pointed out to them the place in the rocks along the beach where my plan would be put into action, and I told them that I had said I went there to sunbathe in the nude. When I described the look on her face and her reaction they all burst into laughter. They thought it was hilarious.
I then asked them to go over to the rocks as soon as they could and go down to the high watermark where all the odds and ends were washed up on the shore. I told them what I wanted, why I wanted it, and told them where to put it. They rubbed their hands in glee. They were really looking forward to dealing with the Groper. Their last job would be to recruit about 20 other boys, particularly any who were in the groper’s geography class, or those she’d tried to grope.
I then chose two friends, Martin and Steve, who were taking the same syllabus as myself - as we needed to have the same time off from lessons - and together we planned a conversation which would take place at the next available opportunity and within earshot of the Groper.
The weather forecast had promised sun for the next four or five days at least so we planned to act the following day which was Friday. We three had an hour free mid afternoon on that day so we went out into the field where Miss Roper was taking a sports lesson with a class of girls. We waited until the lesson had finished and the Groper was on her way back across the field towards the school. We pretended not to notice her behind us and waited until she could easily hear our voices. I parted from the others and said cheerio.
“Oh, by the way Roger,” shouted Martin, “are you coming to play football with us tomorrow afternoon?”
