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The FantasyHer name is Cherry. Well, was. She was the lead cheerleader for our high school, lead singer of the school's choir and a contender for the top five percent of our academic population. She was on track for quite a bright future, with honors and accolades raining her way really fast. She deserved it all.
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It was our school's homecoming football game, and I had been flirting with her all that week. Just before the big day, I had succeeded in seducing her into making out with me under the bleachers. She wished me a little "extra" luck and took off for the parking lot, driving home. I stood there alone for half an hour, wondering whether or not I should do it. I decided I would.
The next morning, I asked her to meet me near the locker rooms in her uniform if we won the game. You bet I tried my hardest to win that game. Down by 14 points at half-time, I saw her on the sidelines, cheering for us. Looking into her eyes, I saw she was cheering for me. She had no idea that she was sealing her fat