Imagine her slowly stripping as her stomach fat jiggles up and down. She takes off her silk shirt and throws it at your face, and you get consumed by the overly large fabric; at this point you think, could I use this as a parachute to jump out the window and save myself? NO, keep watching. You look at her double chin, trying to figure out where her neck and head separate. As you look down, you notice her flabby boobs touching the top of her big, wide stomach. As she continues dancing, you keep looking lower, noticing a dark hole hypnotizing you with round motions. All of a sudden you see a shining star! Nope, just her belly button piercing. You keep looking lower, and lower, and lower, and lower, and lower. You see your hands, you put them up to your face, and start crying. You look up, and she is right in front of you. She is out of breath. She is trying to lift her heavy leg to climb onto your knees. You grab her sweaty love handles, just to find your hands can't grab onto anything. As she slowly climbs on top of you, you can't help but notice an open window in the background, when two things come to your mind: thank god there is at least some air to save me from this sweaty woman, and where is that parachute again?
On a positive note, I never had and never will fuck a big girl. I set my standards pretty high, and tipping the point onto the wrong side would make me lose self respect. If she paid me a million bucks, perhaps.
Oh, the flexible principles..