51 Shades of Maggie, Liverpool Style Read Online Free PDF Page A

tell my boiler was about to burst.
    â€˜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