I Caught My Teacher Doing... Private Lectures. She Invited Me To Join

Oh, I forgot to mention this! My teacher, she’s not MISS, but Mrs. Thatcher! And even this did not stop her from having fun in the company of a guy who was much younger than herself. And this guy’s name was Hector. I have to say that he was a very good dude with a kind heart and I enjoyed his company very much. In fact, I preferred to only be in his company, much more than when Mrs. Thatcher was together with us. But Mrs. Thatcher got insanely jealous… She accused him of showing interest in a younger girl. Pfff, as if she herself had not used me for her own interests! Mrs. Thatcher is the one to blame that this story ended tragically. I will never see Hector again. He's gone. But I am going to take revenge on her and punish her for what she’s done!

…So, first of all, Mrs. Thatcher was not just my English teacher but she was also my tutor. Double punch! I had to regularly meet both of her forms outside the class: because although I am good at speaking, I have serious problems with writing, and because I’m not the most diligent student and, yes, I doubt that anybody could call me an angel ... But wait, this story is not about my sins, it's about the sins of my teacher, so let's get back to her.

I wasn’t the only one who detested spending copious amounts of time together. Mrs. Thatcher also felt exactly the same way, but we had no choice. I needed to earn extra points, so I often sat in Mrs. Thatcher’s office until the evening, sweating over tests or the other essays. Mrs. Thatcher, in turn, had to educate her student, so that I would not become a future threat to society and would not spoil the reputation of my school. We respected each other's interests, but nothing more.

I was so used to visiting Mrs. Thatcher that I sometimes forgot to warn her that I was coming to her office. And this whole mess started with one of these occasions. Once, when my classes at school ended, I dropped by Mrs. Thatcher’s office to give her my usual report over the past week. It was supposed to be a few words, no more, so I did not expect to have to be there for long. On that day I had much more interesting plans than listening to the template preachings of my teacher. The door was not locked, but Mrs. Thatcher was not there either. I sighed, sat down at a desk, and waited for her. I had been waiting for a long, long, long time. During this time, I managed to scroll through all my friends’ stories and kill my phone's battery playing some stupid game. I had a charger with me, but it turned out that the socket near my desk did not work. I love my school! But I knew that somewhere else in the room there was another socket at the floor level, so I crawled down to look for it.

And then I heard someone's footsteps. These were the footsteps of more than two legs — Mrs. Thatcher was not alone. For some reason, I did not want to get out of my shelter under her desk. My intuition probably gave me a signal, I don’t know. Mrs. Thatcher did not notice my presence, but I saw everything! My teacher was accompanied by a young man of Hispanic descent. He looked like he was probably twenty, or twenty-five years old, no more. I had never seen him before, so with increasing interest, I began to eavesdrop on their quiet conversation. And I heard that they were flirting!

And a minute later this guy pressed Mrs. Thatcher on the desktop and began to kiss her passionately! Can you imagine? My married teacher, who was thirty... maybe forty ... or even fifty, who could tell the age of these English teachers? ... kissed a young and pretty handsome guy right before my eyes. Of course, I immediately realized what I had to do and I began to take a video! But my phone was still almost dead, so the video came out short and expressionless. What a bummer! And a couple of minutes later they stopped. Then the guy asked Mrs. Thatcher, in broken English, to come with him. They left and I ran out of there — at that moment, I didn't feel like giving any report to this woman.

And also, from that very moment, I got seriously excited about the idea of gathering a file of real incriminating evidence on Mrs. Thatcher. I had no idea what I was going to do with this kind of material, but I was absolutely sure that I NEEDED it. I began to visit Mrs. Thatcher’s office more and more often, without warning, and I was very surprised that she did not seem annoyed about this. Mrs. Thatcher must have thought that I was too stupid to have any malicious intent. But she was wrong about me! Because soon, I was able to catch Mrs. Thatcher and her boyfriend at the crime scene again! And although I was ready to see all kinds of things, they managed to really surprise me!

When I suddenly went into the office — without warning and without knocking — I saw Mrs. Thatcher and the guy there, and at that very moment they were having... an English lesson. Yes, they were just sitting together, Mrs. Thatcher was dictating some text to the guy, and he was diligently writing it down on paper. But when I entered, my teacher jumped up with such horror, as if I had found them in a lovers embrace without clothes! Mrs. Thatcher introduced me to Hector and immediately explained everything. Hector was a migrant, and in order to stay in our country, he needed to pass an exam in English. My teacher was helping him out with this, although she should not be. Mrs. Thatcher admitted that she herself had a direct relation to the commission, which would be checking on Hector.

Of course, she kept silent about her romance with him, but I already knew how Mrs. Thatcher was abusing her professional position and using our school premises! And then Mrs. Thatcher suggested that I join the study sessions with Hector. She emphasized that this form of training would be a great practice for everyone: Hector would gain some practice by communicating with another native speaker, I would be able to improve my English by teaching someone else, and Mrs. Thatcher would receive good material for her analysis. Huh! Of course, all of this was ordinary hypocrisy, because the very next day, without the presence of Hector, Mrs. Thatcher called me over and hinted that if I diligently attended their joint classes and kept my mouth shut, she as a teacher would turn a blind eye to my pranks.

This treacherous woman had just made me an accomplice to her indecent deceptions. Of course, at first, I did not want to attend these classes at all. And even over time, they did not become more interesting — the thing is that Mrs. Thatcher was a bad teacher. But I began to find pleasure in communicating with Hector. He was older than me, but not so much that we had nothing to talk about, and his poor English, oddly enough, only contributed to our communication. We began to go for walks together, go to the movies, a couple of times I took Hector to a place where I played board games with my friends. I made friends with this dude and I think that he also considered me his friend. I was only concerned about one thing – Hector’s English was not improving, and there was less and less time before his exam.

But I hoped that Mrs. Thatcher would not want to lose her lover — because she wouldn’t find another guy who was so naive! – and that she would somehow take advantage of her connections in the commission. But this witch had her own perspective of what was happening. At first, she was obviously happy that she could bribe me so easily and that I would not create problems. But as our studies went on, Mrs. Thatcher began to notice that Hector and I got along pretty well. We laughed a lot during classes, Mrs. Thatcher even remarked to me that I was distracting Hector.

I did not take this seriously because I noticed that Hector understood some things better when I was explaining them to him, rather than Mrs. Thatcher. She also noticed this, which made her even angrier. Before Hector’s exam, I didn’t even think that Mrs. Thatcher might have no idea that Hector and I were hanging out outside of class. Until the day before exam day, when Hector called me and said in a worried voice that Mrs. Thatcher had scolded him a lot. I understood only part of what he was trying to tell me because of his broken English, but what I could pick up was that he innocently told his mistress that we spent time together pretty often. This was the last straw for Mrs. Thatcher. She attacked Hector with accusations that he was molesting a child!

But believe me, during the whole time we spent together, Hector had never done anything in this direction! Now he was very worried about how he would pass the exam. I told Hector to calm down. I still did not believe that Mrs. Thatcher would set him up. But she did it! The next day I went to class, but Hector was not there! Mrs. Thatcher sarcastically told me that Hector had failed his exam and had already been deported. I do not know whether it was true or not, but Hector’s phone was no longer available, and I had no other contact with him. I had lost my friend. And Mrs. Thatcher had lost her husband! I already told you that I am no angel. And when I realized what Mrs. Thatcher had done to the innocent Hector, I made up my mind to take revenge on her. After all, I still had incriminating evidence about my vile English teacher.

Well, yes, that very video shot on the phone was poor quality, but now I could add to it the detailed story of my meetings with Mrs. Thatcher and Hector! I took all of this directly to my teacher’s husband. Mr. Thatcher was a petty official in our municipality, and I booked an appointment with him during his office hours. When I went there, I reported everything to this poor man. At first, he nearly burst into tears, and then became furious and promised to throw Mrs. Thatcher on the street and leave her penniless. I hope it will happen so soon, ha!