by Leesa Harker
An Mr Big laughed an I think, fuck, I’ve never seen him laugh before, an it was so gorgeous I was drippin, an I said to him, ‘Mr Big, I think I ...’
But he cut me off: ‘Margaret, don’t get attached to me, I’m not good as a boyfriend, I hurt people.’
Then I said, ‘I hurt people too, I nearly bit your cock off goin over them speed ramps on Penny Lane.’
An he said, ‘Let’s go back to the apartment and talk more. I don’t want to lose you.’
Then I looked at him an his green eyes an his smiley mouth an his chinos with the stain on them an I said, ‘Yeah then.’ Then I was sittin in the back of the taxi on the way to his apartment, an I said, ‘These leather seats are makin me slide all over the joint – I’m soakin!’
Back-to-work Bap Wash
When we got back to Mr Big’s flat I was so shagged out I nearly fell asleep on the bed. Problem was, I was scared of him handcuffin me to somethin or whippin the shit out of me if I fell asleep, so I kept one eye open. I thought he was in the shower cos I heard water runnin but then he came out of the bathroom an he was bollock naked an all sweaty from the steam of the bathroom. I thinks to myself, Holy fuck-a-roo, he’s a big ride.
I jumped up to give him a good seein to an he said to me, ‘Hold on, Margaret. I want to take a bath with you.’
‘You what?’
Now I’ve seen in films, all the twats in the bath together makin love an I think to myself, that’s not how you bath yerself. It’s in, scrub your box an then out. But then I looked at his smiley mouth an his pecs an his big masterpiece, an I was moist all right. So I said, ‘Okay. But you have to promise not to try an drown me or electrocute me?’ Then he laughs again an turns to walk back into the bathroom an the horn overcomes me an I run up behind him like a dog on heat an smack him on the bum cheek.
Then I looked at the bath an my heart sank. Oh fuck! It was one of those fancy ones that looked like half an egg, not attached to the wall nor anything. An I’m worrying about how the fuck I’m goin to fit my big arse an tits in there with him in there too. But as I’m standin, thinkin about causing a bathroom tsunami, he starts undressin me.
Then the next minute I’m bollock naked too an this time I didn’t feel mortified – I was empowered. So I did a couple of Jumping Jacks so my tits bounced up an down an Mr Big thinks this is amazin.
So he gets into the bath an then pulls me in an I was sittin in between his legs with my back to him, an then he said, ‘Margaret, I’m going to wash you now.’
‘Wash me? You havin a laugh?’
‘Just go with the flow.’
An he gets a sponge an starts washin my baps, an all I wanted to do was burst out laughin – I didn’t know where to look! I was gettin my baps washed by Mr Big from the Dole! They should give out ‘Crisis Bap Washes’ or a ‘Back-til-work Bap Wash’ for dirty horny whores down in the Dole! That would get some of them off the scratch.
Then he starts rubbin the soap on the sponge an it’s all goin frothy, an I have a fair idea of where that is goin next. Then I felt a prick in my back an I said, ‘Fuck, I hope that’s a soap on a rope!’ An then he laughs, an doesn’t he start to wash my Mary with the soapy sponge! An he was going for it – back an forth, up an down, clockwise then anti-clockwise.
After Mr Big had scrubbed my muff to death, he starts massagin it an I said, ‘What are you doin down there? French plaitin or what? Did you scrub Mrs Robinson’s fanny?’
An then he said, ‘I don’t want to talk about the past.’ It got all awkward after that and he said it was time for me to go home. No overnight? Am I some sort of emotionally retarded twat magnet? I jumped up and pulled all my clothes on. He could tell my boiler was about to burst.
‘Margaret, I am trying. There is one thing that I would like … I would like you to come and meet my parents. It would mean a lot to me.’
An here’s me, ‘Forget it mate. Mums don’t like me an dads wanna ride me – it’s not happenin.’ But he told me that they lived in a big house in the Lake District, and that it would be a day out from Liverpool. An then he drops the bombshell that he was adopted by them an he was rescued from his cruel birth ma! So I said, ‘That’s awful for you, but I can’t go to meet your mum an dad. No.’
I just walked out to wait on the taxi, an I had a real cob on. Didn’t know if I was comin or goin. He doesn’t want a girl one minute, and wants me to go and meet his mum and dad the next.
But Big Sally-Ann phoned me when I was in the taxi an said there was a party in Big Billy Scriven’s flat, an to come on over. So I did a detour an ended up there – an ended up drinkin a couple of White Lightnings an sittin on Big Billy’s joystick of love. But I felt dead guilty, cos while I was bein twirled round on Big Billy’s pole, I was thinkin of Mr Big an I was moist.
Maggie’s Dilemma
Well, the next mornin I was havin a lovely dream about Mr Big. He was givin me a tit massage with maple syrup an lickin my nips, an I was Bell again, ding-a-lingin all over my knickers. But didn’t I wake up to see Big Billy Scriven sittin against the headboard, smokin a pipe an starin down at me with a smug grin on his face. Although, with the turn in his eye, it looked like he was starin at the wall, which was even more Disturbia. I was stinkin of fags an sex an the little bump in the sheets under big Billy’s crotch area made me think he was ready to use me as a spinnin top again. So I jumped up off the bed, tucked my tits under my arms an ran to the bathroom.
Then I had a quick slash an got dressed quick. Big Billy was a bit pissed off because I had never said no to him before an his good eye was twitchin like mad, an with the other one lookin at the wall, well, he was no oil paintin. An I thought about Mr Big an I said to myself, fuck, he’s not that bad. Yes, he rode Mrs Robinson, an she knocked ten bells out of him, but his arse in those chinos is amazin an his tripod is to die for, an his smiley face (when he’s not wantin to get me into his red room of pain) is gorgeous. So I decided to give the fucker one more chance to impress me. I decided to go round an get my arse paddled an my nips clamped an see what those silver balls are all about an then I’d know what was what.
So I ran back to my flat to get washed an Big Sally-Ann was standin at the door waitin for me. She was black as your boot from head to toe, hair standin on end, clothes ripped an she was nearly cryin. An I thinks to myself, oh fuck she’s been beat up. An then I said to myself, ack no, she boxed for years – she could beat up most of the men in Toxteth. An I said to her, ‘Fuck me, Sally-Ann, what happened to you?’
An she said to me, ‘Oh Maggie, it was awful, awful I tell you. I’ve singed me minge.’
Then I said to myself, I’m deffo gonna get the long version of this story, so I brought her in for a cup a tea with whiskey in it to calm her down.
Anyway turns out the head-bin had been helping to build the Hallowe’en bonfire, an some scally from Toxteth had set it on fire with her sittin in the middle of it. Now, she wasn’t burnt badly or anythin – she ran out when she smelt smoke – but she tried to save it from burnin down an she got caught in the smoke. So I had to let her have a shower. She even tried to put the flames out with her top, the simpleton.
So when she got out of the shower I gave her some of my clothes to put on an the Fila trackie bottoms were up her shins, an the Burberry hoodie was up her arms an she looked like somebody who’d escaped from a mental hospital. So I decides to tell her all about Mr Big an his whips an his red room of pain to take her mind off nearly getting burnt alive. She was oohin an aahin as I was describin the paddles, the cable ties, the big red bed an Mr Big’s arse in those chinos. If I had a tenner, I’d have bet she was moist.
An then she said to me, ‘An what’s the problem? Let him slap you up if he wants – aren’t you gettin shagged every night? An we’ll be on the scratch for life, no questions asked, if you keep in with him!’
Then I said, ‘True. But I think I like him more than that. I think I wanna have his babies like.’
Then she said, ‘But the benefits are al
l getting cut now. You’ve to go back to work when the kids are seven now. There’s no point in having kids anymore.
Then I said, ‘You divvy, it’s when they’re five!’
Then she said, ‘Ye wha? God, they really are robbin bastards.’
Then away she went to the Red Lion cos she was wantin to get her hole that night. An I thought, you know, life’s too short. You never know the minute you could be burnt to death in a bonfire. I’m gonna text Mr Big an tell him I will go to meet his mum and dad tomorrow. What harm can it do? An nobody had ever wanted me to meet their parents before. Ever. Like, one time Big Billy Scriven’s mum came to his flat to clean, an do his washin, an I’d been gettin it hard up against the wardrobe at the time. He hid me under the bed an I was bollock naked. She was there for over an hour, hooverin an cleanin. An I was stuck in a twisted heap under his bed with his ashtrays an used condoms. I ended up with a dead leg an ash stuck to my tits – his flat was dead grotty. In the end I just got out from under the bed an said to her, ‘Sorry, love, just look away until I get my clothes on.’ She didn’t take her eyes off my tits the whole time, the big lesbo. An then she started wallopin Big Billy, so I bolted out the door.
An that’s the only time I ever met somebody’s mum. An there was Mr Big actually invitin me! The shock! Then I thinks, if they’re dicks I can look to see what fancy stuff they have an give their address on to Big Gerry ‘the Housebreaker’ an he’ll gimme a tenner for it.
So I puts in the text, ‘Rite, changed me mind. Will go to your parents 2moro. Pick me up at lunchtime an wear those chinos. :-) ’
Then he replies,‘Great. We will have fun. Bring a bathing suit – they have a jacuzzi in the outhouse.’
A jacuzzi in the outhouse? They must be minted like! So I grabbed my Katie Price bikini – the diamante one – an slapped some Fake Bacon on to my baps an thought to myself, Floozy in the Jacuzzi, here we come!
Meetin the Parents
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.’
Floozie in the Jacuzzi
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 bo
ttoms 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.