(Translation - FUCKTOR; Author - Mg. Creator; Original title - My Pet Teacher)

INTRODUCTION

Hi, my name is Timothy Drake, and until recently I was a nobody. I was stuck in school, I could not pass exams in the twelfth grade and now I am the oldest. Bad athlete, thin, by definition. With a height of eighty meters, I weigh only 70 kg. I have greasy, brown hair and soft brown eyes. I look like any typical, imperceptible teenager. In the crowd, I will become almost invisible.

But now everything has changed.

This year I finally loudly declared myself and became the master of school history. However, before we begin our narration, we will have to return to the beginning of this school year.

CHAPTER 1

Fucked up ... how I hated natural science. I especially hated that Miss Ohara. She threw me last year in science and mathematics, which means that I had to return this year to the 12th grade. At the end of last year, when she gave me the news, I was simply crushed. In my opinion, I even noticed how this bitch grinned upon seeing my despair.

To be honest, Miss Ohara is the hottest teacher in school, if not in the whole state. She is only 26 years old, and her body is such that it is not a pity to die for him. With an increase of 1.70, it hardly weighs more than 55 kg. She has gorgeous, long, brown hair, and bright green eyes. Her tits are a good size, probably 36C, and a slim waist that goes into the most perfect ass you've ever seen: one of those asses that all men fantasize about.

A week has passed since the beginning of the new school year, when I again had to return to the 12th grade, and I finally matured to implement my plan. I reasonably suggested that at first it would be better if everyone, including Miss Ohara. calm down and begin to feel comfortable after the start of school life.

As soon as the bell rang about the end of the lesson, I resolutely approached Miss Ohara's teacher’s desk, at which she checked her notebooks. I scrolled this moment in my head hundreds of times and therefore planned how everything should go, to the smallest details. Without waiting for Miss Ohara to pay attention to my presence and allow me to speak, I, as if nothing had happened, said: “Miss Ohara, I need to talk to you alone, after school today. I'll be here at 3:30. “Having said this, I quickly turned around and left the audience, even before she had time to formulate the answer in her head.

I understood that the most important thing for me was to take control of the situation from the very beginning. Control should be easy at first, but over time I planned to strengthen it. Before the end of the school day, I had two lessons left, and I decided to once again scroll through my head, how our forthcoming meeting should go.

And may I have planned this moment for a very long time, much depended on the will of the incident, because I could not predict how Miss Ohara would react to this or that situation. If the reaction is not the same as I expected, then everything that I planned will collapse in an instant. However, who does not risk, he does not drink champagne, right? I’m 18 years old, I’m in high school graduation class, and if my plan fails, I’ll just be able to get out and start again in another place. Even though I may have had a lot of trouble, it was too much of an opportunity to miss it.

The last hour at school has become a real torture. I absolutely could not hear what the teacher was telling us, since all my thoughts were occupied by Ms. Ohara. I again and again scrolled one or another script in my head, wondering how events could develop. There was hope in me that when I returned to her class, she would wait for me there, alone, as I had warned.

Finally, the bell rang, signaling the end of the school day. Fifteen minutes before the meeting with Miss Ohara, I went to the gym, to look at the training of our girls cheerleaders. Okay ... actually, I just wanted to look at just one girl - Lisa Beaumont.

We lived with her on the same street and went to the same school for eight years. Although she was younger than me, I fell in love with her at first sight. However, it was quite obvious that my feelings are not mutual. She was always a stunning girl. Height 1. 65; weight about 50 kg; long, straight, blonde hair; thin, almost perfect features; and athletic build. Her waist can best be described with the word “miniature”, and her not very big but perky breast and a very elastic, rounded ass looked perfectly on her waist. With such external data and a sports component, she was always among the best, and no one had ever seen her talk to such complete losers like me.

Well, to hell with it ... If everything goes as I planned, then soon everything will change for the better - at least for me, for sure. I looked at my watch, and saw that it was almost 3:30. It was time to part with Lisa, and meet my fate in the face of Miss Ohara.

The closer I came to the office of Miss Ohara, the more nervous. So much effort and energy was spent to get closer to this moment, and too much was flooding for me at stake. If I lose again now, all my efforts will be in vain. Before opening the door, I stopped for a moment to shake off my nervousness. Taking a few deep breaths, I pulled myself together, preparing for the inevitable. A quick check (for the hundredth time) of the contents of the pockets revealed that everything needed was in place. Every detail is crucial.

Praying to God, that Miss Ohara was alone, I opened the door and went straight to her table, like a confident man (not forgetting to close the door behind me). Quickly examining the room, I realized that we were really alone.

Again, without waiting for her to allow me to speak, I began my rehearsed speech.

“Miss Ohara, I understand that our relations didn’t work right from the start, given that you threw me in the past year, but I’m sure that from this day on, we can improve them significantly.”

"So listen, Tim ...", began Miss Ohara.

“Miss Ohara,” I quickly interrupted, not wanting her to seize the initiative. "I think you better not interrupt me, but first listen carefully." I noticed how she was taken aback by the tone in which I uttered these words, and I was confused, probably not expecting the conversation to take such a turn. “You see, soon after I received my failed report card, my mother sent me to Los Angeles ... so that I could live there, and at the same time work for my father. Mom decided that I needed to get together and take a more responsible attitude towards my life. ”

"Well, at first, I was a little upset because I was sent into exile, but then, on one significant day, everything changed." I saw that my calm, almost serene tone worried Miss Ohara more and more, because she nervously squirmed while sitting in her chair. “You see, my father is a businessman, he owns a nightclub, and in the summer I worked there: I cleaned and arranged inventory. And then I met a guy from the bartenders. His name is Jim Henderson. You probably know him? ”

The expression of shock on Miss Ohara's face was priceless. His face turned white like chalk from fear, his mouth dropped open, and his lower lip began to shake.

Without giving her time, I continued. “We first talked about where I live, what school I go to, and how the school year passed for me. When I complained to him about Miss Ohara, who threw me in two subjects, he suddenly remembered that name. ”

If this were possible, Miss Ohara would begin to slowly decrease in the chair. The expression of shock was quickly replaced by a painful, greenish pallor. I was scared that she might lose consciousness.

“He asked me if, by chance, my Miss Ohara was not the same Rebecca Ohara, who had studied at the University of Los Angeles several years ago and received a diploma of a teacher ....