Leg...or Breast?

Oh yes, fiends, it is officially time. Time for a BBRC classique from Rebeccah Love Margolin, freshly released from a Turkish prison (aka taking a break from schoolwork). We at the BBRC have in our sole possession a never before seen passage from Rebeccah Love's holiday tale, "Leg...or Breast?" A tale Miles Standish and Squanto would be proud to read alone in the forest. So sit back, grab some dark meat, and enjoy "Leg...or Breast?"

Iago sat on the other side of the table from Zaltana, unable to stop staring at her. Iago had been invited to Zaltana's house for Thanksgiving by her brother, Azrael, and was struck dumb by Zaltana's beauty. Despite the cacophany of all their relatives, Zaltana was the only person around as far as Iago was concerned. He watched as she absently ran her fingers through her hair, her gnarled knuckles slipping through her greasy locks, her hair the color of swamp. His excitement was further aroused when she flashed her smile, her chipped, nicotine stained teeth glinting in the candlelight. He thought he might have caught the faint essence of stink lines rising from her gums, which were covered in sores she had obtained from years of doing methamphetamines, a drug Iago always considered to be fit for the gods themselves. He felt as though he could not contain his excitement any longer, and when she left the table to go to the bathroom, it was the only excuse he needed.
"Zaltana," Iago said, following her into the bathroom, "I need to speak to you.""Iago!" Zaltana said, startled. "My goodness, you startled me! It's not every day a man I just met follows me into the bathroom. Some days, but not everyday.""I can't control myself, Zaltana, I haven't been able to tear my eyes off of you all night. I've been undressing you with my eyes, taking off first your vest with the embroidered turkeys on it, then your shirt one puffy sleeve at a time. After that, your delightful mom-jeans, until finally...""Oh, Iago," Zaltana said, breathless. "Take me now, right here on the pea green linoleum!"With that, Iago swept Zaltana off of her feet and onto the floor. He ripped off her vest and blouse with one foul swoop. He unbuttoned first his tapered stonewashed ankle jeans, then took down his pants and underwear, which had holes in them. Her eyes widened with surprise as his massive cornucopia emerged from within. She ran her hands through his combover and down his back, her fingers stopping to trace each of the boils along the way. She grabbed his lumpy mashed potato mounds as he unbuttoned her mom jeans and practically tore them off. He reached up to her ribcage and pulled down her granny panties, and she eagerly shoved his coruncopia into her breadcrumb stuffing. Soon, they began to undulate, like the Mayflower upon the rough seas bound for the New World. Iago dove his face into Zaltana's enormous buttered rolls as their bodies began to sweat as though they were to grease the duck to put into the chicken...and then the turkey. Their fevered efforts drew them closer to the New World, and finally, Iago quickly removed his cornucopia and erupted a sweet mixture of his whipped topping and her cranberry sauce all over Zaltana's giblets."Well, honay," Iago said to Zaltana, as they lay in a puddle of their love gravy, "You sure got some sweet pumpkin pie."

We at the BBC hope you enjoyed this passage in conjunction with your warm holiday festivities. You may order this Rebeccah Love Margolin classic for the low price of five monthly payments of $3.42 (+s/h). Order now and receive your choice of pumpkin spice flavored ball gag or mashed potatoes and gravy lubricant free as our special gift to you. We at the BBRC would like to wish you a happy Thanksgiving, and have a safe and food-drunk holiday.