How to go on a Dinner Date (with a Bigger Woman) in 6 steps!

So you’ve been wanting to take a bigger girl out to dinner, but you’re worried it might not be affordable or doable, well think again. If you like big girls like I do, you don’t mind the idea of a dinner date, in fact you look forward to it because you love watching girls eat. Great, because a dinner date is one of your best opportunities to impress a big girl, showing her that you’re a true gentleman that cares about her, that wants to treat her right. With these easy steps, you can wheelchair her ass up the table and order the food in peace, knowing full well you’ll save a lot of money and bang her out in no time flat.

Some back story: As you know, I’ve gotten many quickies with my foodtruck over the years. I’ll be honest, the foodtruck was a logistical crutch. All I would have to do is invite them inside for some extra corndogs after making some small talk. That’s how I got 90% of my quick bangs. But now it’s in the shop for repairs. It may never hit the road ever again, in fact it’ll probably go to foodtruck heaven after all them times the big ladies and I shook it up. Now it looks like it was totaled in a car crash. God bless the foodtruck, rest in pieces baby. Anyway, now I started taking girls out to dinner again, and I’ve perfected into a 6 step plan.

Step 1: Look for BBWs on Craigslist’s dating sections, try to find a bigger girl that is looking for romance. Recently I lucked out when I spotted a post with the title: Very Big Beautiful Woman looking for her Prince Charming. Since her picture was that of a very plus sized black woman, my response email started off with “Redbone Romeo just got his paycheck.” That was the subject line, attached to the email was a semi nude picture of myself, one that I photoshopped to make my skin lighter. I kept the message short, mentioning plans for a dinner date. It only took two emails to get her number.

Step 2: Get her to agree to meet you at the restaurant. If you pick a good, fairly upscale restaurant, then flaking isn’t really an issue, especially If she thinks you’re going to pay. If you can’t decide on a restaurant, a steak house is always a good choice. Again, don’t worry if the restaurant is pricey, and don’t let her worry about it, because it won’t matter. What she won’t know is that the free meal is just bait to get her ass out, into our Big Game trap.

If you have to pick her up, make sure you are driving a large vehicle that can support heavier loads.

Quick Story: One BBW I took out to dinner recently, she needed me to pick her up, so I borrowed my friend’s pickup-truck. When I pulled up to her house and she waddled out, my jaw just dropped. God damnnn, her ass was so thick it could have sunk the Titanic. She was pushing 600 pounds already, I had to pull out a special ramp just to help her into the back of the truck. It was hard work that took a lot of muscle, phew… Once she was in, I tied her down with rope, put up the oversized load sign on the back, and we were off. She moaned loudly every time I went over speed bumps.

Also, be sure to pick a restaurant that’s out of town, I’ll explain why soon.

Step 3: Once you help her inside, know how to deal with the waiter or manager if they have any issues. Usually getting a table isn’t problematic, but you’ll start to notice the manager watching over you like a hawk by the time the waiter asks you if you’re ready to order.

Quick Story: One time my girl and I were peacefully reading our menus when the manager approached us with a nasty look on his face, and said “sorry to interrupt your dining experience, but I just want to personally take your order to make sure you get what you need.” He gave me a good stern look, then looked at my date, and then me again; I knew what he was really thinking. You probably guessed it, he was wondering if we would actually be able to pay for the enormous amount of food she would probably eat. To top it off, being black in the south doesn’t exactly help. So I handled this situation in the most dignified manner I knew how, by loudly proclaiming to my girl, “Baby, you can eat WHATEVER you want! Don’t worry about what he thinks.” And I said it loud enough that the whole room could hear it, cause that’s how you amog the manager of a restaurant. Then I heard a deafening applause. I had received a standing ovation from every patron in the room, so I just had to get out of my seat, and bow deeply. It felt like I was about to accept a Noble prize in Fat Acceptance or Big Game. What an honor… And of course with every patron on my side, the manager had no choice but to accept defeat, and let us order as much food as we wanted.

Step 4: Get her to eat a lot of food and consume alcohol, that way she’ll have to go to the restroom, where you can get to business. We all know that big girls are severely gluttonous, and they certainly know it, but on a first date they might be ashamed of their natural habits. If she doesn’t want to order a lot of food, just order extra for yourself and eat it in front of her. Order a handful of mixed drinks too. She won’t be able to resist the temptation of eating some of your food and drinking it up. Be sure to select foods that have a decent amount of fiber.

Nigel on a dinner date.

Step 5: Wait for her to excuse herself to go to the restroom, then follow her in. If you followed through with Step 4 properly, she’ll have to use the restroom at some point to take a shit. Just follow her in. When you find her stall, tell her you brought a corndog to keep her company, then whip out your cock in front of her. Remember, bigger women rarely get any opportunities for intercourse, so the chance for a seedy bathroom surprise will be hard for her to turn down. Rip her clothes off, shake up the stall, and make sure you hit that pussy so hard she can’t get back up. After you bust a nut, tell her you will be at the table waiting for her, while she puts herself back together.

Step 6: Get the hell out of dodge, as quickly as possible! Get out of that restaurant, and get out of town as quickly as possible, before the waiter even totals the bill.

This is where I have to follow my own advice. One time after nailing my girl in the restroom, I made the mistake of walking back to my table. The manager was right there holding the bill in my face, it was like $550 dollars. Shit, I wasn’t about to stick around and clean their dishes for a week. I had to think fast. I tried to explain that I left my girl’s insulin in the car. He barely bought it. So I briskly but calmly made my exit, then I got in my truck and hit the gas!

Read More: Fitness For Heavier Women: Stay Healthy At Any Size

Add me on twitter: @nigelbiggame

When BBWs Act UP

Who you think you is BITCH!!!??? MY BITCH THATS WHO!!!

Sorry for the hiatus my chub-brothers. Nigel X. Davis is back in the house to rupture volcanic ass and spread the word of Big Game without shame baby. I’m back with a vengeance after the rough shit I had to deal with two fuckin’ weeks ago in my house. This one BBW became so belligerent with her straight up crossin’ the line, Big-Mama-Drama-Queen bullshit, that I had to check her. I had to put the hippo down; you know, sometimes you get these wild bitches that got a potato chip on their shoulders, man they think they are something. They bring the trouble that makes me like, “Hell no bitch, you are finished!” every single time.

So it was roughly two weeks ago that I invited a big bitch over my house for a nice, home cooked, six course gourmet dinner. I was on my best behavior with candles lit, music turned up, and in my professional chef clothes as I escorted her via wheelchair to my dining room. As I rolled her on up to the table she started looking unhappy. I was like, “baby, is everything all right?” She pointed at the food and rolled her eyes, “that’s not enough!” I was like “Ok baby, I got this, I got this!” And I went back to my kitchen and made her extra food. By the time I came back with more food she had already eaten most of what was on the table, without me. I was stunned, what a rude bitch! But, praise the lord, I kept my mouth shut like a southern gentleman. Soon after she tilted her head back and opened her mouth, then I realized she expected me to feed her. I hesitated at first, but she waved me over and pointed toward the mashed potatoes. “okay…. fine.” I gave in, took out this big spoon and shoveled three bowls into her mouth. Soon I was feeding her everything on the table with my bare hands, and letting her lick my fingers. I tried to get her to lick some food off my dick but she just pushed it away. What nerve! I just shrugged it off as hot foreplay at first, but then I remembered from past experience: she’s just trying to make me her bitch. My inner voice was like “No way hoe! I’m not your black slave” — you know, I prefer it the other way around.

Then it was time for dessert. I decided to continue keeping this smooth. I brought out the cake and she got really excited when she saw it. She was flapping her flabby arms in the air, grinning with a triple chin smile. Eight layers with vanilla ice cream on top: It was a wedding cake just for us. I cut out a piece and popped it in her mouth with the utmost grace of a perfect basketball shot. It landed so perfectly, it was a moment of glory. All of the sudden she spit it out and sneered at me. I couldn’t believe that shit. I was like “WHAT THE HELL BITCH..”  Her: “This is NOT AN ICE CREAM CAKE!!! EW!!! I WANT ICE CREAM CAKE!!!”

I ran back into the kitchen so fast that my toque blanche (chef’s hat) almost fell off. I tossed the first cake out the window and scrambled for supplies to make a new one. I was sweating with fury, forgetting the original reason I had brought her over for dinner: to fuck her fat white ass. I was too busy to think about myself… too busy carefully scooping up and sculpting the vanilla ice cream into a cake, a cake fit for a queen. I patted each layer down with my dick a few times to give it just the right texture, hardening the crust. Despite my blue balls I pushed on, working like a true artisan who mastered his craft. I did it all for her, I went the whole nine yards. I even coated the top layer with jizz and blow-torched it into a creme brulee. I was so proud of that cake when it was finished that I ran out with it, but as soon as I set foot back into the dining room, somehow I tripped into the cake. FFFFFFuck. I fell face first into that cake, with most of the layers all squished up all over the floor. That’s when she stood up from her wheelchair and pounded her fat fist into the table, “GOD DAMN IT, WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO MY CAKE!!!!!!” When she said that I was so I fucking pissed… I grabbed my chef’s hat off my head and threw it on the ground with intense anger. I was so mad, I jumped on it too. I even ripped my apron off. “I ain’t your chef no more, you fat bitch!” Yup, I called her a fat bitch. I had to tell her the truth. When chef Nigel throws his hat down, that’s the signal that I’m about to throw down.

The final straw came when she threaten to sit on me as punishment — now don’t get me wrong, I like gettin’ sat on by a big bitch, but only voluntarily. When she dared to threaten me, I got back up real quick and ran on back into that kitchen. She was half way across the dinning room when I popped back out with my three-foot egg beater. I turned the lights off to set the mood: a beatdown for dessert.

I whipped that thing out and beat her ass and pussy down to the ground. I took that thing and whisked her pussy up so hard, she gonna need a separate funeral for it. I fucking plunged her head first into what was left of the ice cream cake, making her finish it off the floor while I went ball deep in her. It was gameover. I put her in her place.

Moral of the story: Some fat hoes are straight up belligerent, possessed by the devil. You gotta make’em sweat it out.

follow me on twitter for more big game advice @NigelBigGame