51 Shades of Maggie, Liverpool Style (4 page)

The next day, we caught the train together. I decided to dress down that day, with meetin the mum an dad, but I wanted to still be Maggie Muff – just a swanky version. So I decided to go commando – no bra, no knickers – Mr Big would love it. I was beginnin to like playin games with him, especially ones where I had the upper hand. I wore my blue denim skirt that I got in Primark in 1996 an my white knee boots that Big Sally-Ann shoplifted from Topshop for my birthday. Then I put on my new white furry jumper that I got at the market. It was five pounds – pricey for there – but it was so fluffy, an if Mr Big groped my boobs through it, which I was sure he would, they'd feel like two big marshmallows. An the rules say if your legs are out, keep your boobs in an vice versa – unless it's a lock-in at the Red Lion an then it's everythin out an shake it all about!

Well, on the train, I was regrettin the no-bra idea. The material in my new top felt like it was made from fibreglass an it was aggravatin my tits so much, my nips were stickin out like
jcb
starter buttons. I was itchin an pullin an tryin to poke them back in again. Mr Big thought this was brilliant, like. He was sittin facin me, starin at my tits jigglin about the place.

Then I was gettin nervous a bit about meetin his ma, an he said to me, ‘Margaret, stop biting your lip – you know how it makes me hard.'

Then I just decides to give him a little taster of what's to come after our meetin with his mum an dad, an I gives him a sexy wink with my right eye. An he just smiles at me so I winks with my other eye an he smiles again. So I shoves my feet up either side of him on the seat an winks with my ‘special' eye an his face is a picture – shock or what?

Then I said to him, ‘Whaddabout a quickie in the khazi?' So we shuffled down the train til we got there an it was like an upright coffin. The size of it! But I slid in an whipped my skirt up to reveal the Muff, an his eyes nearly popped out. So he squeezed in too an locked the door. We were like two horny sardines. Then he shifts me up on to the sink an gets out the tripod. An with the vision of that stickin out of his chinos an the bumpin of the train, I was soakin.

So he winged his train into my tunnel an my arse was fillin the little sink that I'm sittin on. Then just as I was thinkin, I hope this thing doesn't collapse, my arse cheek shifts an turns the tap on. So I'm gettin rid from one end an splashed from the other end. An then I flung my arm out to steady myself an I turned on the hand-dryer. So at least the noise of that drowned out my yells. So after he finishes, he gets cleaned up an zipped up, an then he looks at me an I said to him, ‘It's all right, I'll just drip-dry, babe.' An I know he wants me again but then we're pullin into the station an we have to go. So we got off the train an into a taxi, an I bit my lip the whole way to his parents' house, just to wind him up.

Then we got there I nearly died. It was like somethin out of
Cribs
– all big an cream with hangin baskets an a welcome mat. I was expectin Mariah Carey to waltz down the steps in a thong an high-heels at any minute. Not the kinda place you drop your fag ash, or tramp dog shit into the carpet. Then we went inside an the hallway was bigger than my whole flat! There was a big fancy staircase an marble floors an I thought to myself, holy shit, we aren't in Kansas now!

Then his mum came down the stairs dressed like Joan Collins in
Dynasty
an she comes right up to me, shakes my hand an said, ‘Margaret. Lovely to meet you.'

If she'd known where that hand had been ten minutes ago, she wouldn't have been touchin it. Then I saw her lookin at my tits an I looked down an I said to myself, oh fuck those nips are like two upside-down cones. Then his dad comes in an I went weak at the knees. He's a bit like James Bond an I thought to myself, Now I wouldn't mind a sandwich with junior at one end, senior at the other end, an me in the middle. The name's Big. Samuel Big. Double-dick-heaven. An then, like any man would, he zoomed into the tits an I'm sure he had a semi. So we shook hands an I bit my lip at him, but he didn't jump on me or anything.

So his mum took us into the dinin room an it's like the Mad Hatter's tea party – buns, cakes, teapots, triangle sandwiches with the crusts off, the lot. Goin for tea in my mum's house is a crisp sandwich, a fag an a bun from the bakery for afters. So I got stuck into the grub while gettin questioned by them all. Mr Big senior asks me about my ‘parents' an I tell him that my mum's on the sick now with her nerves, but that she used to be a dinner lady. Then he asked me what my dad does for a livin an I said to him, ‘He died when I was a baby' Well, I wasn't about to say I hadn't a Scooby Doo who my dad was to those people. Then I cursed my mum for making me make up shit about my dad.

I could see Mr Big squirmin a bit when I was gettin the Spanish Inquisition from his mum an dad an I realised how different we actually are. From different worlds, an that made me a bit sad. Then, Mrs Big asks me what I do for a livin an I said to her I'm on a career break (I heard some posh twat sayin that in the Dole one day) an she is about to ask me more when she stops dead an glares at me – I was only dippin a mini chocolate muffin into my cup of tea. She was disgusted! Like I was an inbred or somethin. An I'm not – my mum told me it was all rumours about her an my Uncle Marty.

Then Mr Big senior asked me where I got my ‘rather fetching' top, and I told him about the problem with my nips gettin scuffed to bits an he started laughin and went into a coughin fit, an Mrs Big had to get up an slap him on the back to get him to stop. Then he stopped coughin an she kept on whackin the poor shite anyway.

Then Mr Big junior said maybe he should show me around the place an his mum an dad said they would leave us to it. I think Mrs Big was glad to see the back of us. So I said, ‘Defintootley, babe.'

So we got outside an there was the outhouse with the jacuzzi in it. Mr Big pressed a button that turned it on an it started bubblin away. It was far better than anything at the Nuffield Health Gym. So Mr Big said he's off to get his trunks, an told me to get changed in the cubicle beside the jacuzzi. So I slipped into my bikini an ran out to the jacuzzi so I'd be the first one in. Then I took the bottoms off an, when I saw Mr Big comin across the garden, I flung them out the door at his head.

He laughed at first but then he looked cross an said, ‘Now, Margaret, I will have to punish you later for your bad behaviour.'

An I said to him, ‘Bring it on, babe.' I didn't know where I was gettin the bravery from cos I deffo didn't want a wallopin – or did I? I think it must have been the country air makin me a divvy or somethin.

When Mr Big got into the jacuzzi, he had two glasses of champagne in his hands. Bubbly in the bubbles – OMG. So, we started gluggin. But after eatin all those buns, an then the bubbly on top, I felt wind buildin up in my belly. You know how if you look at a water tap you need to have a wee? Well the bubbles in the jacuzzi had that effect on my arse. An I knew it wouldn't be a little trump. We're talkin thunder farts, like carpet gettin ripped up. But then I thinks, my arse is under water, he'll not know if I'm trumpin like a farmer or not. So, I let rip. But instead of it bubblin out the back, a rumble of farts went right up the front of the Muff an bubbled to the top, just as Mr Big leaned in for a kiss. An what I hadn't accounted for was the smell. When the fart bubbles popped, the smell was putrid. Right in Mr Big's face. His nose started twitchin an he stopped kissin me, an I thought to myself, I'm dumped now. But Mr Big didn't seem bothered. Next thing he was playin the hairy banjo on the Muff under the water. Then I said to him, ‘What about a game of underwater knob gobbling?' An he nods an leans back on the side a the jacuzzi, so I went under the water for a tune on his flute. I nearly drowned after a few blows an I had to come up for air. But it was just as well cos Mr Big senior was danderin across the garden in his Speedos to join us.

As Mr Big senior was steppin in, he looked down an I'm sure he was thinkin to himself, either there's an otter in our Jacuzzi or young Margaret's in the nudie an isn't friends with her razor. But we had another few glasses of champagne an I forgot all about it. Then Mr Big junior said it's time to go, an he gets out. An I look at him as if to say, ‘Your da's gonna get a face full of bush if I've to squeeze past him with nothin on,' so he lifted my pink thong an flung it into the Jacuzzi an I put it on.

Then Mr Big senior laughed an said, ‘You are a naughty one, Margaret.'

And I was mortified. Then I thought to myself, Big Billy Scriven's not much younger than Mr Big senior, so I gave my tits a quick shake in his face just for the laugh. I could still hear him laughin when we were walkin to the taxi.

On the train on the way back, Mr Big was dead quiet again an I think maybe I overdid it with the shakin the tits at his dad an the fanny-farts. So I asked him if he would come back to my flat to stay the night, an he said no an my heart broke. He got me a taxi at Lime Street station and, as I drove away, I tried one more time an flashed my tits at him through the window. But he just waved at me. So I sat back in the seat an looked out at the world whizzing by. Everybody seemed to be in pairs. And then there was me, like a little dropped glove, lying in the street. And I thought, am I always going to be like this? On my own, getting used for sex, and then sent home in a taxi?

Then the taxi driver said, ‘Put them tits away, love, or I'll be runnin us into a wall.'

So I pulled my top back down an then I sat an told him all about Mr Big. The whole story from our meetin at the Dole, to my nips gettin abused by my new top. So, after ages sittin outside the Flats, he finally let me go. He thought he was on to a winner with the meter tickin while I told him my troubles, but the twenty I gave him was a fake, so I got six pound change back into the bargain. Result!

Then I got into my flat an I was so depressed about Mr Big not wantin to spend the night with me, I rang Big Sally-Ann to tell her. I told her about Mr Big's mum an dad's house an the jacuzzi an she said it all sounded too good to be true. Then I told her about Mr Big not wantin me to touch him an that he wouldn't stay with me an that I was lonely, an she said that's not on. ‘I'll be there in ten with White Lightning and
Columbo
.

An I thought to myself, my man may be a cold-hearted twat, but my bezzy mate's the fuckin dog's bollocks.

The next day, I woke up top-an-tailed with Big Sally-Ann. An that's worse than it sounds, cos her feet are the size of breeze blocks, an they smell of cheese an sweat. An she is the length of the bed, so her feet were restin on my pillow right beside my head. It was like bein brought round with smellin salts. So I got up to make us a bacon sandwich when I heard my phone beepin.

It was Mr Big sendin me a text message: ‘Margaret, you are going to get a phone call from the Job Centre. Don't be alarmed; it's nothing to do with me. You have just been selected, along with a few others, to go on a trial work placement in Tesco. I'll try to get you off because I need you to save all your energy for me. Just go along with it for now.'

So here's my text back, ‘You
'
d better get me off, babe. I'm not standin up there packin bags for grannies that stink of piss.'

Later that day, I got the call an had to report to the Dole the followin day or my benefits would be stopped. But the best thing was that Big Sally-Ann had been called in too, so at least I had company – an we trotted off together to the Dole. We were ragin havin to get up at eight o
'
clock. That's still the middle of the night for us. Especially cos Big Sally-Ann sits up to the small hours watchin
Prisoner Cell Block H
reruns. I think she secretly has a crush on some of those prisoner women but I've never said anything to her about it. When we got there, Mr Big was lookin all shifty. An I thought to myself, somethin's not right here. Didn't feel any better when we all got called in separately to hear about our work placements. I got some skinny, flat-chested bitch who was talkin down to me like I was some kinda peasant. But I just said, ‘Yeah,' in the right places, an I could tell she wanted a reaction but I was still in that dreamy after-sex phase where you don't give a fuck about anythin. Then when I got out, Mr Big dragged me into a corner an I thought to myself, OMG, he wants me in the Dole. Now, it wouldn't be the first time. Sure I rode the security guard in the back corner behind the phonebox so he could put me to the front of the queue one time.

But, no, it wasn't a shag Mr Big was after. Sure didn't he tell me that the flat-chested freak, Deirdre, was his ex an she was out to get me cos she was mad with jealousy! Sure I was ragin. But Mr Big promised to sort her out an in the meantime I had to go up to Tesco with a bunch of dicks an work. Actually work! So I went outside to have a smoke an told Big Sally-Ann all about it. She wanted to wring Deirdre's neck but then the minibus pulled up for us an she got sight of the driver an it was lust at first sight – for her anyway. His name was Igor an he was from Transylvania. She sat up front with him talkin while I sat at the back with the others. They were young ones, and they were all travellers from that site at Tara Park, but that didn't bother me, we were all in it together – it was us against the Dole. There were plans discussed about contaminatin food, spillin milk on floors so the customers would slip, an other things to make Tesco sack us all on the first day. One girl, Sinead, put herself forward as the leader.

So we all got into Tesco an Big Sally-Ann swapped numbers with Igor an then he left an said he'd be back to pick us up at five o
'
clock. A whole eight hours to spend in a shop! I felt sick. Sinead got to work causin havoc right away but I got stuck in the storeroom checkin that none of the eggs in boxes were cracked. Well, after about half an hour, I got bored of the eggs, an Sinead had been taken off the floor an sent to pack bags cos of her bad behaviour. I heard the manager screamin about wafer-thin ham in boxes of cornflakes, an Sinead pole-dancin round a fresh baguette. So I decided to text Mr Big. I started with a cheeky one sayin I was bitin my lip, an one thing led to another an I ended up sex-textin him. Now, I was deffo a pro at this. Me an Big Sally-Ann worked on one of those sex chat-lines for a while. So I knew how to get a man from flop to splat in minutes. Problem was, you had to keep the men on the phone for as long as possible to get the money off them, so we got sacked. Too sexy for the job. An it was workin a treat on Mr Big. I was tellin him about me havin a fiddle in the storeroom, an he was tellin me about him havin a fiddle under his desk at the Dole. And then he asked me to text him some pictures. So I took my knickers off an set a few eggs on the floor, then squatted over them so that the Muff was on show.

Then I took the pic an sent it with a text sayin, ‘Look what I've laid ... hope it's you I'm layin later.'

Then he texted back, ‘You are naughty, Margaret. I may have to spank you later. One more pic and make it a good one.'

So I was still squattin over the eggs, thinkin of doin somethin filthy with a bottle of Cillit Bang when the manager came in with Sinead.

The manager looked shocked, but Sinead just burst out laughin. An I said to them, ‘Just keepin the eggs warm – all part of the service, babe.'

An then the manager started yellin an shoutin at us, an the three of us were in a fit of giggles. So he rang down to the Dole an gets them to send the bus for us. But Big Sally-Ann is nowhere to be found. Then, Igor arrives an Big Sally-Ann is already on the bus, an I can tell from her rosy cheeks an the state of her hair that she's somehow sneaked out of Tesco an has been ridin Igor. So I high-fived her an we headed back to the Dole.

Well, Deirdre-No-Diddies was furious when she saw us back already. Mr Big winked at me as we were told not to come back to work an that we were bein kept on the Dole for now. Me an Sinead swapped numbers an said we'd meet up again, maybe for a night out, an I wished she lived nearer cos she's great. But that's just the way it is. Then, as we're leavin, Mr Big gives me a cheeky nip on the arse an whispers, ‘See you later, sexy.'

An I walked out of there drippin like a water tap.