#elvis and june: a love story

[missmaywemeetagain]

Listen, there are reasons June is my favorite and this is one of those reasons

[hooked-on-elvis]

The Green Scrapbook 📗

Why is Elvis a legend? Simple answer: HARD, HARD WORK... on and off stage.

That's the most interesting thing I've learned about Elvis lately.

This fanzine was out… it is called "Elvis Answers Back!", printed by Sound Publishing Corp in 1956 (view photo 8 and video 1 further on). In its pages, Elvis answer questions about his career and personal life in that genuine way we love so much about his interviews. There's very interesting answers in those pages (I'll share more in this blog in a while) but this one got me in awe. What we're about to read Elvis did in the 50s, while he was in the peak of his success as a young artist, specifically in the year of 1956, it's a demonstration of his courage, down-to-earth spirit, and a passionate level of dedication to his craft that few artists, or normal people for that matter, have.

Some of the pictures printed in the Elvis Answers Back! magazine: August 18, 1956. Elvis at the Knickerbocker Hotel, Hollywood, CA. Photograph by Ed Braslaff.

The magazine article is in topics. This one is entitled "THE GREEN SCRAPBOOK", and here's what Elvis had to say about this "rumor":

"Yes, it’s true that I keep me a scrapbook of a lot of the stuff that’s printed about me. But you know something? I don’t save the articles or stories that tell nice things about me. My scrapbook only has stuff in it that isn’t very friendly. I’ll tell you why this is. "When I first started out, my momma wanted to save all the programs and pictures and things that everyone put in the papers and magazines. I wasn’t much interested in doing this, because I was so busy singing and working and learning that I just didn’t want to take the time to sit down every so often in the middle of something and start cutting out pictures and things. Momma bought her a big green scrapbook, though, and asked me to send her stuff whenever I got the chance. For the first year or so, I didn’t send her a thing, and the scrapbook was empty, except for a couple of clippings she got out of the Memphis papers.

Some of the pictures printed in the Elvis Answers Back! magazine: (1) June 30, 1956 in Richmond, VA. Elvis drinking water after having a bowl of chili, sitting at the Jefferson Hotel lunch counter; (2) Elvis at the RCA's Studio One in NY, for a recording session on July 2, 1956, when he recorded "Hound Dog" and "Don't Be Cruel." Both photographs by Alfred Wertheimer.

"Then one day I saw this article about me not being a very good singer. I cut that out and send it to momma and she wrote back and told me I didn’t want to fill my scrapbook with things like that. But I wrote back and told her, 'Momma, anyone can fill a scrapbook with good things. But what good does it do? I’d like to know the things people don’t particularly like and study them and try to make myself better if I can.' "So that’s how The Green Scrapbook got started. I’ve got a lot of pages filled, and a lot of them are still empty, but I’ll tell you this. Every time I go home to Memphis, I take down that scrapbook and study it. I know most of the things in it by heart, and I’m always going to do my best to improve whenever and wherever I can." — Elvis Presley, 1956 interview.

Cover of Elvis Answers Back! magazine, published on August 28, 1956 | Source: elvis100percent.com

SEE THE CONTENT IN THE PAGES OF THAT 1956 ELVIS MAGAZINE (this is an US limited edition reproduction of the 1956 original magazine):

Thanks "Collecting King Elvis Interviews and Memobilia" Youtube channel for sharing this gem.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

UPDATE

I just crossed an interview of Elvis for the Hy Gardner Show ("Hy Gardner Calling") on July 1, 1956 (right after Elvis' performance on the Steve Allen Show). Hy Gardner asked Elvis if he reads the reviews on his concerts and he answers it with "Not if I can help it". Then Gardner goes on in the same matter and asks him further, "Do you keep a scrapbook at all?" -- Elvis' answer to this: "Only of the good stuff." -- We can figure, although Elvis had the Green Scrapbook probably since 1954, considering he said 'When I first started out, my momma wanted to save all the programs and pictures (...)', it was around mid 1956 that Elvis consciously decided to face his detractors more often and make a good use of their critics to help him improving his act. Fascinating. It's fascinating for a young man as talented, handsome and successful as he was, to pause the rush of excitement going on within himself just so he could think things through. Elvis was enjoying a tremendous amount of success already, so it would be more convenient to just have fun and let it happen while it lasted. 1956 was THE year when everything he ever dreamed about was happening at once in his life and he couldn't be more excited and thrilling with the attention he was getting from all over, yet that young man had the maturity to understand he had to keep working hard so he truly could have something worth sharing with the world, something better to offer to the people who seemed be starving for more of him. Fascinating.

WATCH THE FULL HY GARDNER INTERVIEW WITH ELVIS (July 1, 1956):

[yetanothersparrowofthedawn]

Love Songs and Shit (Extended Masterpost)

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x YN

Genre: Angst, Hurt, Fluff, Smut (honestly it varies depending on the chapter)

Wordcount: if only I knew...

Plot: YN is a popular American singer-songwriter who, on a rainy evening in 2018, crossed path with the members of Greta Van Fleet. It didn't take long for the usually detached and fiercely independent girl to experience an unfamiliar itch. As she put pen to paper, it seemed a certain long-haired guitarist had her thinking about writing love songs and shit.

Concept: Each Album is a period of YN's journey, each track is a song she wrote after a specific chapter, so basically her discography is a chronological story of her life (with Jake, mostly). I'm currently not posting chapters in chronological order, but everything is organized in chronological order on this Masterpost.

Disclaimer: All the album covers are paintings by Norwegian painter Henrik Aarrestad Uldalen I edited. So, credit to that guy.

Also some chapters may involve triggering themes, I'll add the specific trigger warnings at the beginning of each chapter. Stay safe, besties.

(PREQUEL)Debut Album: "Remain Nameless" => NOT YET STARTED

Old Money

Seven

Blue Velvet

Lost at Sea

Bel Air

South London Forever

This is what makes us girls

Dollhouse

All-American Bitch

Hope There’s Someone

Grace

idontwannabeyouanymore

Remain Nameless

Brutal

Rabbit Heart

National Anthem

2nd Album: "Sweet Nothings" => NOT YET STARTED

The Night We Met

Ride

Lover to Lover

Body Electric

Moves

Hiding

Hope is a Dangerous thing for me to have

Love Song

Sweet nothings

3rd Album: "Let the Light In" => NOT YET STARTED

Wildest dreams

All the girls you've loved before

Cornelia street

How Big, How blue, How beautiful

Dress

Love

Always Remember Us This Way

Let the Light In

Lover

4th Album: "How to Disappear" => NOT YET STARTED

The Next Best American Record

King

Brooklyn Baby

How to Disappear

Mariners Apartment Complex

Norman Fucking Rockwell

Watercolor Eyes

Sky Full of Song

One step forward, three steps back

Out of the woods

5th Album: "The Greatest" => NOT YET STARTED

Happiness is a Butterfly

Swan song

Too Good at Goodbyes

Favorite Crime

You're Losing Me

Without You

The Greatest

6th album: "Long & Lost" => IN PROGRESS

Hits Different (coming soon..)

Now that we don’t talk

Beautiful People with Beautiful Problems

Long & Lost (coming next)

Is it over Now? (coming soon..)

All This and Heaven Too

7th Album: "St Jude" => DONE

California

Secrets from a Girl

Style

The Way I loved You

St Jude

All You Had to do Was Stay

Honeymoon

Happier than ever

8th Album: "The End of Love" => ON HIATUS

The Bomb

Prayer Factory

River

All too well

Caught

Stargirl Interlude

Getaway car

Angels like you

Various Storms and Saints

Leave my Body

Cassandra

The End of Love

9th Album: "Dream Girl Evil" => NOT YET STARTED

Carmen

A&W

Hometown Glory

Dream Girl Evil

Swimming

Restraint

Sober

Sober II

Heaven Is Here

June

God knows I tried

Never Let Me Go

(SEQUEL) 10th Album: "Margaret" => NOT YET STARTED

Morning Elvis

Girls against God

Mama who bore me

Patricia

Did you know that there's a tunnel under ocean boulevard?

Kitsungi

Back in Town

I Drink Wine

Back to December

Margaret

[vintageshanny]

Sneak Peek - Waiting for Love - Part Ten

I always feel weird hyping up my own writing, but I didn’t want y’all to think I forgot about this story. June was a crazy busy month for me, but I have been plugging away at the next chapter for Elvis and Vivien. Thank you to everyone who’s been following along and commenting, I appreciate it more than you know. Hopefully the chapter will be done soon-ish, and in the meantime, here’s a little peek at the angst I promised.

“So you’re really going on another tour without me?” Vivien tried to hide the hurt and pain in her voice.

“C’mon now honey, ya know I like ta have ya waitin’ for me when I get home. It gives me somethin’ ta look forward to.” Elvis grabbed her hand and stroked it softly in an attempt to reassure her.

Vivien bit down on her tongue, trying to will the tears away that she could feel springing to her eyes. “And who do you have waiting for you out on the road?” The acidity in her voice surprised even her, and she could see immediately from the stony look in Elvis’ eyes that she had crossed the line with this bold accusation.

“Hmm.” Elvis made a strained grunting noise in his throat as he dropped her hand and rose to leave the room.

“Elvis, wait, I-” Vivien tried to apologize but faltered when she could find no sincere words to say she was sorry for asking what felt like a perfectly valid question at this point.

“I ain’t got time for this mess right now, Vivien.” His jaw clenched as he looked back at her, trying the best he could to control his temper. “We can talk about it when I get back home.”

As he walked out the door, Vivien felt the hot tears start to slide down her cheeks.

[peonierose]

Luna Valeria Auclair (OC)

A/N: I wanted to re-introduce my OC Luna. I’ve been thinking long and hard and just wanted to share some more things about my OC. I decided I will not be using a fc for the foreseeable future 🥰

I also included more info on Luna’s family and her triplet cousins as well 🥰🩷

You can also find all my stories on my Masterlist

Full name: Luna Valeria Auclair

Nicknames: Lunes & Lu by Bryce Lahela (OH), Moonbeam (by her grandpa and her dad), Loonsey & Loon-Moon (by her mom & grandma), Sugarplum (by her best friend Maxine), Looney (By her cousins)

Love Interest: Bryce Lahela (Open Heart)

Sexual Orientation: Straight

Birthday: June, 27th

Zodiac Sign: Cancer ♋️

Nationality: American

Born: Honolulu, Hawaii 🌺

Face Claim: none for now

Hair: dark blonde, long and wavy

Height: 5‘0 feet tall

Eyes: Blue-green with a slight aquamarine tint

Education: Luna got her Bachelor of Fine Arts at the University of Hawaii. She specialized in ceramics, drawing painting + sculpture.

She teaches art at the University of Hawaii.

(Though Luna would love to have her own art gallery in Honolulu, Hawaii).

Family: Luna is an only child (for now, though that might change soon).

Luna’s parents:

Grace Amanda Auclair, Luna’s mom is an English teacher at McKinley High (Luna’s old Highschool).

Brian James Auclair, Lunas mom and dad are both from the Chicago area. Brian worked in finance at his father’s company. He comes from a wealthy family- his parents are from new money. They were very strict, and technically he didn't need to work at his fathers company, but he didn't want to be like all the other rich people who lived of off their trust fund. He wanted to earn his money.

The day he met Grace, they were both on their lunch break. Grace spilled her coffee on Brian's shirt and felt so embarrassed. She wanted to pay for dry cleaning, but Brian wouldn't hear it. Later on they kept talking for what seemed like hours. They promised to see each other again on the next day. They met every day for coffee until Brian had the courage to ask her out. They dated for a while before they became official.

Sadly Brian's parents didn't approve of his love with Grace, and they made him choose. Grace wanted to break things off. She didn't want to be the cause of a rift between his parents. But Brian chose Grace and that's the last day he spoke to his parents. They disowned him afterwards.

With some savings they both decided they wanted to make a fresh start. Grace quit her job as an English teacher and Brian quit his job in finance. They packed their belongings and moved to Honolulu, Hawaii. Where Brian opened up his flower shop called »Orchid's Paradise«. He always had a knack for flowers.

They got married and he took his wife’s name (Auclair). He hasn’t spoken to his parents ever since. Though he has a beautiful family now and he couldn’t care less.

Luna‘s aunt, uncle and her triplet cousins:

Joanne Dahlia Auclair (her aunt; maternal side)

Joseph Alexander Auclair (her uncle; maternal side)

Skyler Tristan Auclair (Luna‘s cousin; maternal side)

Soraya Emilia Auclair (Luna‘s cousin; maternal side)

Evangeline Rose Auclair (Luna‘s cousin; maternal side)

Luna‘s cousins have their own wedding planning business called »Sunset Moments«

Luna‘s grandparents:

Angelina Lilly Auclair (Luna’s grandma; maternal side - they share the same birthday - June 27th).

Grayson Oleander Auclair (Luna‘s grandpa; maternal side - a former defense attorney, now retired).

Auclair Family Tree

Auclair Triplets (Luna‘s cousins)

Likes:

- mangos

- cherries

- herb sauce for her fries

- guava

- Haupia (Hawaiian dessert)

- mangas (Bryce loves comics) she would love to do a collab of a manga that features Hawaii

- Luna loves to take old furniture and make it into something new / or restore it to its former glory

- peanut butter and jelly sandwiches with banana slices (Just like Elvis Presley)

Dislikes:

- toxic people

- negative energy

- dishonesty

- liars

- the word »glib« whatever that means

Personality: bubbly and sunshiny. Very open, honest, loyal, generous, a true sweetheart. Though hurt the people she loves? And you should better run.

Friends: She has her best friend Maxine Moore, who’s a tattoo artist based in Honolulu, Hawaii 🩷

Adam Sinclair who she went to school with. They went on one date but found out they’re better off as friends.

Amber Merchant - a popular photographer who took this photo of Luna 🥰

Luna‘s favorite Hawaiian proverbs:

Kahuna Nui Hale Kealohalani Makua – “Love all you see, including yourself.”

Aloha Aku No, Aloha Mai No – (I give my love to you, you give your love to me.)

Ua ola no i ka pane a ke aloha – (There is life in a kindly reply.)

‘A’OHE PU’U KI’EKI’E KE HO’A’O ‘IA E PI’I – (No cliff is so tall it cannot be climbed.)

12 things about Luna:

🌺 plays the ukulele

🌺 her hair was as pale as moonlight and that’s how she got the name Luna

🌺 She got her nickname ”Looney“ from watching Looney Tunes as a kid

🌺 dances Hula

🌺 peonies & lilacs are among her favorite flowers

🌺 she was once stung by a jellyfish and got a tiny star shaped scar from it

🌺 allergic to ginger

🌺 thinks grasshoppers are creepy (though spiders are cute)

🌺 played soccer in grade school and in high school she switched to volleyball and tennis

🌺 was on the cheer squad together with her cousin Soraya (who was the cheer captain)

🌺 Had a belly button piercing but it got infected so she had to remove it.

🌺 Luna struggles with anxiety and can't handle large crowds. She's had help from her family, but also from her therapist. She goes there from time to time. Not as often as she did before she met Bryce. Art is like therapy for her. That's why she likes to paint or create to help her relax. Because some days are harder than others. She quit her job in Boston, because she was bullied by her boss. She didn't feel good to work in a toxic work environment like that. Bryce wasn't really happy in Boston either. They both missed home, so they moved back to Honolulu, Hawaii and Keiki went with them. (I explored that in my story By a Landslide)

[shelbeetaylor]

Character Introductions (Part 2)

-> story masterpost

moodboard by @singingslayingsoprano

Genevieve Santira

Most of her life, people have only called her Genevieve, but Evie’s calling her Gena has begun to stick.

Genevieve uses she/her pronouns.

Genevieve is 20 years old at the beginning of the story, and her birthday is on May 16 which would make her a Taurus.

Genevieve is known as the Crown Princess’s maidservant to those outside the palace, but those inside know her as one of Cassandra’s best friends.

Likes: working with her hands like sewing and embroidery, helping her father in the smithy, and taking care of her friends

Dislikes: playing mother to the chaotic individuals she happens to be friends with, her inability to read or write, and Cassandra only when the princess doesn’t listen to her

Genevieve often frequents the taverns of Vale Serine not to drink but to listen to the songs played by the traveling bards. Since she cannot read or write, the lyrics of the nomadic musicians provide her with stories she wouldn’t be able to know of otherwise.

If Genevieve lived in our world, her playlists would probably be filled with songs by artists like Rihanna, Selena Gomez, and SZA.

Genevieve, though quite confident in her ability to perform her job adequately, she struggles a lot with her life at home. Her parents were forced into marriage and out of their village after having her brother--who she hates talking about-- out of wedlock. Genevieve was very young when her brother disappeared, and her home life took a turn for the worse. Now she relies on her time away at work and the adventures Cassandra drags her on to grant her reprieve.

Face Claim: Angel Coulby as Guinevere in BBC Merlin

moodboard by @singingslayingsoprano

Wesley Moonbourne

A lot of people often refer to him as Wesley, but Evie has deemed it more appropriate to call him Wes.

Wesley uses he/him pronouns.

Wesley is 20 years old at the beginning of the story, and his birthday is on October 14 which would make him a Libra.

Currently, Wesley holds no official title, but by training in Vale Serine under the instruction of Theo he hopes to earn himself a spot as one of the knights of Nevernia.

Likes: dogs, hunting, and playing chess

Dislikes: feeling like he doesn’t belong, Evie feeling bad, and being without his dog Ranger

Wesley grew up in the outskirts of Bellbury, a city surrounded by farmland, so one of his odd interests is agriculture. Most of his days in Bellbury were spent voluntarily helping around the nearby farms, much to his family’s chagrin. If Wesley wasn’t able to become a knight, his dream would be to move out into the countryside and live on a farm with his animals, his dog Ranger, and the love of his life.

If Wesley lived in our world, he would listen to a variety older music like songs by Johnny Cash, Elvis Presley, and The Beatles.

Wesley, having just moved to Vale Serine, is really struggling with trying to fit in. He wants to be accepted by the knights and especially by his idol, his cousin Theo, and he’s trying his best to become friends with them whether it’s by acting cool or sneaking along on their adventures. Hopefully his newfound friendship with Princess Evie will lead him in the right direction.

Face Claim: Noah Beck

moodboard by @singingslayingsoprano

Terran Willows

People usually just call him Terran, but the knights are also partial to Terr-man or giving him briefly-used, more colorful monikers… Sir Enoch’s favorite at the moment is Bog Man.

Terran uses he/him pronouns.

Terran is 20 years old at the beginning of the story, and his birthday is on June 20 which would make him a Gemini.

Terran is currently studying as an apprentice to Galen, the Court Physician, and he has been working under Galen for about five years.

Likes: his mother’s yearly visits, reading, and practicing magic in his room

Dislikes: Galen’s intense exams, getting scared, and Galen’s overprotective rules about magic and going out

In the spirit of helping people, Terran dedicates as much of his time and energy into improving the lives of others. While he is working towards becoming a physician full-time, Terran volunteers around Vale Serine helping those who need it. Sometimes the knights will even tag along to help and protect him, especially if he’s making a trip into places like Serine’s Hope to hand out food, provide free medical care, or distribute clothes.

If Terran lived in our world, he would definitely be a big fan of Maude Latour, but he would listen to mostly folk music like Hozier, Lord Huron, and Noah Kahan.

While Terran is quite proud of who he is as a person, there is still a lot of turmoil inside his head about it. He grew up in the outlying villages of Nevernia where it isn’t uncommon to see friends string up friends for being queer or possessing magic. Terran managed to escape that environment with his secrets intact, but the inner demons spawned in that hell have followed him to the big city, though he’s lucky to have Galen there reminding Terran every so often that he is not a monster for the way he was born.

Face Claim: Colin Morgan as Merlin in BBC Merlin

[doll-elvis]

I’ve seen these photos of Priscilla on Pinterest and she looks so upset, do you know if there’s any back story behind these photos

hello and thank you very much for sending in this ask ꨄ︎!!

I’ve always been too distracted by that absolute unit of strawberry-blonde hair on Priscilla’s head to notice her expression but after closer observation I think you’re completely right in your assessment of her mood- sis was looking like she would rather be anywhere else 😭

after a quick google search and finding out that these photos were taken in April (sometime after the 23rd) of 1966, her expression started to make all the more sense

and not only is the date important for the context of these photos, but that unit of hair could also be very important

just a quick disclaimer: since Priscilla herself hasn’t spoken on these photos anything I say below is merely my own speculation as to why she may have looked upset on that day

To begin, according to Peter Guralnick's "Careless Love”, Elvis had just finished filming for his 22nd picture Spinout, in California, when he returned to Memphis with Priscilla on April 23rd. And so by knowing that they were photographed together in the meditation garden sometime in April, it’s safe to assume it was likely after the 23rd as they were in California for the weeks before

The film Spinout is relevant in this as 1. His costar was Shelley Fabares who he had a crush on 2. One of Elvis’ and Priscilla’s biggest arguments occurred during the filming of Spinout while they were in California and the cause of their argument was reason number one… Shelley Fabares

Both the Memphis Mafia and Shelley herself have confirmed that the relationship never went beyond anything platonic as she was faithful to her partner but nonetheless Elvis and her spent a lot of time together and formed a close bond

Naturally, Priscilla became suspicious that an affair was taking place and so she expressed to Elvis that she wanted to meet Shelley which then led to the first time that he had ever threatened get rid of her ⬇️

(read from left to right + click photos to see full text)

excerpt is from “Elvis and Me” by Priscilla Presley

(I believe this argument will appear in the upcoming film as Jacob Elordi says the line “I don’t have a goddamn thing to hide” in the recently released trailer)

No exact day was given for when this argument took place, it could have been the first week of filming or it could have been the last, but I would imagine having Elvis tell you to get all your things and leave would cause a lasting sort of sadness and have you questioning just how important you were to him even after going back to Memphis/Graceland

And this kind of thing actually happened a few times while they were together. Sonny West once said that Elvis’ greatest defense was offense meaning that if you were to approach him about something i.e Priscilla approaching him about his infidelities, Elvis’ response would be to turn the tables and put the pressure on you i.e telling Priscilla that he wanted her gone ⬇️

excerpt is from “Elvis: What Happened?” By Sonny and Red West, along with Dave Hebler

Another instance ⬇️

excerpt is from “Elvis and the Memphis Mafia” by Alanna Nash

Tbh as much as I love Elvis this is why I do hold a lot of sympathy for the friends and women in his life (even the ones I don’t personally like) because he tended to give ultimatums as a way to get what he wanted

“If you don’t like this, then leave… if you don’t want to do this, then leave…” and he did that because he knew most people would choose to stay

Now, the significance of that unit of strawberry blonde hair is purely speculative, but I'm wondering whether Priscilla started dyeing her hair that color to resemble Ann Margret as Elvis was quite melancholic over the fact that Ann and her boyfriend Roger Smith were spending so much time together during that time, infact, they were engaged just 2 months later in June of 1966

The affair between Ann Margret and Elvis lasted only a year after they met while filming Viva Las Vegas, so it doesn't make much sense that Priscilla would start dying her hair strawberry-blonde 3 years later (although she did try to emulate Ann in 1963) but it could be possible, and knowing that Elvis was still thinking about Ann Margret in April of 1966 would definitely be enough to make her upset at the time

What do y’all think?

[thatbanditqueen]

No One Walks Out Ch 4

No One Walks Out On Big Daddy

Chapter 4: Kaleidoscope

Summary: Elvis convinces Becky that this is actually a romantic gesture, and he brings her to Graceland to meet his family and spend some time together as he prepares to have his daughter come to Memphis. A fluffy, smutty nuzzlefest with some foreboding and Jerry shenanigans.

Warnings: NSFW, Minors DNI, cunnilingus, vaginal sexual penetrative intercourse, cursing, drug use and alcohol, and, because it's Elvis, weird mind games and jealousy. Some historical inaccuracies.

Words: 18.6K EVERYTIME. Every. Goddamn. Time. With every fic. I tell myself, this time, 10 K is enough. And then I write more than i did last time. I think I loose readers every time it gets longer... but .. fuck.. I don't know. It's hard to kill your darlings.

I made a playlist just for this chapter in order of the songs that get sung or played.

I'm so bad at attention to detail, sorry for the typos.

This chapter is part of my on going fic about 1975-era Elvis and a single mom he meets after a concert in Jackson, MS. If you haven’t read it, you can here:

Catch up on Chapter One here

Catch up on Chapter Two here

Catch up on Chapter Three here

Thanks to everyone who has commented, sent asks, and supported this story. If you enjoy it, please, for the love of big daddy, reblog, comment, share. I always like hearing what works and what doesn't, because it gets into my fingers and shapes the way they write. Pretty sure the smut is ridiculous here....

Sunday, June 14th

1 PM, Pop’s Gas Station

Somewhere in Mississippi 

The coffee was hot as it rolled down Jerry’s throat, and he shifted against the raw wooden grain of the bench outside Pop’s Gas Station, somewhere off Highway 61. It was bright in the muggy, midday heat of Mississippi, and Jerry adjusted his sunglasses, intentionally turning his head away from the yellow Cadillac parked askew twenty or so feet to his right. Lush green trees lined the two-lane highway, and Jerry stared at the overgrowth, trying not to focus on Elvis’ laugh bubbling up as it was interrupted by yelps as Becky hit him again and again on his upper arm. Jerry made no visible acknowledgement that he could hear or see everything being said in the car twenty feet away.

"Elvis THIS IS NOT FUNNY! Turn around and take me home… I don’t appreciate being taken against my will…”

“Thought you liked being taken by me, ouch…. last night you said you wished you could co—”

“No, I never said—”

“Yes ya did, ya said,” Elvis’ eyes laughed and his lips pouted while he spoke in a high falsetto, “Oh Elvis you big strong manly stud, I wish I could stay like this forever, naked in your arms…c—”

“No, no, no, now.” Becky flipped her long, dark auburn curls over her shoulder and looked out the window at Jerry, still aloof, disinterested, his eyes focused on an indeterminate point in the distance. “I didn’t say it like that, I was caught up in the moment and I said ‘this is nice, just being here like this, together.. wish it could last forever,’ the kind of stupid thing weak-willed women like me say after making love….I never said I wanted you to go——”

“Well, I saw it in your eyes… and again this morning, when you were trying to play it cool while ya wa warshin’ my clothes for me, ironing ma pants…” His fingers rubbed the side of her arm, stroking up to the top of her shoulder then back down to her elbow, trailing lightly along her thigh. Becky settled a little as Elvis’ voice rumbled into her ears. She stopped punching him and crossed her arms with an exasperated sigh.  Elvis leaned in closer, still a few inches from her ear, murmuring while his hand circled the top of her left knee. “C’mon woman, ya really don’t wanna spend a few more days with me?”

Becky crossing her arms even tighter, and a guttural growl emerged from her throat with a “Humpf… Elvis…. I can't disappear on a whim just to be your fuck buddy for a week…”

“Whoa now, first a all, this ain’t just about screwing around-”

Becky arched an eye brow.

“Maybe for you, ya wanton woman…”

“Ha!”

“No, now a man can only do so much a that… now just come here a second….”

Elvis's hands pulled Becky across the front seat of the car and into his arms.

“Now honey, I like you, we have fun in each other’s company, hmmm?” He kissed the top of her dark curlscand her skin smoldered under the heat of his large hand massaging her shoulder. The bottom of his glasses bumped along the top of her head and she took another deep, protracted breath, uncrossing her arms.

“Mhmmmm… I… it’s not ok to go behind my back just because you want something to happen a certain way…it doesn’t feel good to be tricked into something…”

“Ok, ok… ya right…. See, I … I knew you was too shy to ask your folks… ” Becky jabbed him softly, playfully, moving her elbow up and down along the soft cushion of Elvis’ belly. “Ok, ok, simmer down, I’m sayin’ you are right, honey, I'll never trick you again or do something without asking….promise…I’ll never not consult you again when I’m planning a grand romantic gesture that sweeps you off ya feet…” 

“HA … that what this is? Awfully optimistic of you, thinking anything like this will ever happen again .. I have a mind to make you drive me back to Jackson on principle…”

“OK, well, now, look, we’re only ‘bout on hour from Graceland,  let's head in and if ya still set on leavin’ in the morning,” Elvis winked as he said this.  “I’ll have Jerry drive you back…”

Becky softened and leaned into him, her hand worked its way around Elvis’ waist. “Oh no, no Jerry, no Joe, you’re not gettin’ your friends to do your dirty work for you - you did this to your self, and you need to be the one sufferin’ the six hours driving me to Jackson and back…”

“So what I’m hearing is that you want the maximum time ta cuddle with me … I gotcha, I gotcha… so come an’ get it now, silly woman!”

Elvis’ right hand tightened around the edge of Becky’s shoulder, his thumb gently swiping up her shoulder blade as she scooted into him, releasing all of her resentment about this surprise trip to Memphis. Becky made a mental note to save any indignation that remained for Ida as she snuggled into Elvis chest, giving into it’s warm comfort and burrowing her nose into his breast. Becky smiled as Elvis let out a deep hiss as the tip of her nose traced over his nipple. Her hand moved down to tease him along the crease of his pants where his belly met his thigh. Slowly, her fingers crept further along the ridge of his tummy and onto the top of his legs, just to the point above his crotch, then giggling softly as Elvis gasped and exhaled with a low exclamation.

 “Gawdddddammit… lil gal… gonna loose my foot tryin’ to get us back to Graceland…show you that sound proof….roommmmmm,” his voice purred as Becky’s fingers needled the round flesh at the top of Elvis inner thigh. 

The friction created a heat between them, and Elvis fingers started to rub Becky’s shoulder with a blistering need. He kissed the top of her head, and Becky watched him push against her in the rearview mirror. Her chest filled with warm exhilaration at the sight of Elvis’ lower lip hanging down, his eyes blown wide with earnest, needy lust. She watched his lips smoosh sideways as he kissed her forehead, maintaining a charged eye contact with her through his glasses. The intensity of his stare was overwhelming, it made her heart beat so quick that she heard it in her ears, almost drowning out the sound of Elvis’ left hand rolling down the window to yell out for Jerry to get back in the car, never breaking the bond between his chin and her forehead. 

Elvis blue eyes simmered as they stared her down through the mirror, and Becky couldn’t stop herself from biting her lip. His fierce stare was juxtaposed by the softness of his voice as he whispered into her hair while they drove along the highway.

“He’s sawry if he upset ya baby …” Elvis voice went into a low, intimate babyish tenor, the movements of his thumb became more protracted, and Becky shushed him through his shirt. “Such a sweet baby ta me… baby baaaaby ba da di dooo, ohh… yeuahhhhh…..” His voice lulled into a gospel tune momentarily. “I cain’t wait ta show ya all ‘round ma house… all ‘round ma property… fourteen acres… ever stayed somewhere so big? Think ya… can handle that size?”

Becky chuckled, and Elvis’ face beamed at the soft rose color of her blushing cheeks. 

“Mhmmm… well, I’m not sure… guess I’ll just have ta see what happens….” Becky kissed Elvis chest, softly, murmuring into it. Her right hand snaked around his back, her left feathering over the round swell of his belly. “You know, I was just starting to like you this morning before you played this dirty trick on me …  you’re so funny and sweet …. But I just need to say… one last time, then we’ll put it behind us… I… don’t like plans being made for me…” Becky looked up at Elvis face from where she leaned on his chest. The side of his face loomed large above her, his lips pursed in thought above the bulge of his chin. “I can see how you meant this as a romantic gesture… but I … I don’t like being tricked…”

Elvis’ chin rippled above Becky as he nodded, and he drew her in closer. “Awright honey… from now, s’all ‘bove board… no more tricks… no more surprises, kay? I promise. Won’t ever lie or mislead you or keep something from you.” The softness of his chin pressed into Becky’s forehead as Elvis’ kissed the top of her head and squeezed her shoulder.

Calmed into a tender embrace, Becky and Elvis retreated into their own little enclave in the front seat, where Jerry’s presence was ignored and almost forgotten about amid the sweet nothings Elvis and Becky exchanged along the highway up to Tennessee. 

“Ya know you got the cutest yittle eye lashes I ever seen,” Elvis whispered, and he kissed her forehead again, catching her mouth as Becky tilted up to him to kiss his cheek.

She murmured over his nipple. “You have the kind of chest a girl could get used to leaning on…” she rubbed her hand under the plush groove of his belly.

It was only when they got to the state line that Becky began to feel a slight unease creep up from the bottom of her tummy and take residence at the top of her bosom. An icy chill followed up her spine, she felt anxious as she realized they were entering Tennessee. She was about to experience another layer of Elvis’ home life that she hadn’t had any time to prepare for or even think about. She squirmed out of his tight embrace and sat up straight, looking out the window at the big sign announcing they had entered Tennessee.

Elvis’ left hand remained straight, steady at the wheel while his right palm chased after Becky’s, grasping at her fingers and intertwining his between them at the top of her knee. He turned his head from the road, momentarily, looking at the back of her head as it stared out the window. Elvis’ hand engulfed her’s, squeezing it tight, lifting her palm to his mouth and kissing the top of her hand.

“Hey - ya nervous?” 

Becky’s big brown eyes met his tentatively. Her lips pursed together, then wiggled back and forth as she shrugged her shoulders.

“Mhmm… what is your family gonna think of me… this random girl… coming back to your house with you? What if they… don’t like me…. What about these six girlfriends you told me ‘bout? I…. Anyone gonna be chasing me out the house with a rolling pin?” Becky’s voice stopped abruptly, and her words hung in the air. 

Elvis released Becky’s hand and looked over at her, then turned to look at Jerry briefly for the first time since they had left the gas station. “You watch too many soap opera… Graceland ain’t The Guiding Light… I lay down the law, and there ain’t no drama… no other chicks living there right now, and everyone’s gonna be just as crazy about you as I am, lil girl… but I’ll tell ya right now, my opinion’s the only one that matter’s at Graceland… so’s you jus’ let me know if anyone… anyone… disrespects ya, hmmm? Trust daddy, now, everything is gonna be fine….”

Elvis turned up the radio and rubbed Becky’s knee, and the sound of The Allman Brothers’ “Ramblin Man” filled the car.

**********************************************************

The white mesh gates opened back and Elvis flicked his cigarillo out of the car window and steered the yellow Cadillac up the curved driveway. A wistful smile spreading over his face. Exhaling, he seemed to relax as he paused the car at the little brick guard house behind the gate. Elvis motioned at Becky to roll down the window and yelled at the older man standing watch.

“Why hellloooo der Vestor, stayin’ awake I see?”

The guard nodded, and Elvis chuckled, ignoring Becky’s questioning eyes as he drove the car around to the front of the house. Jerry was out of the car first, waiting as Elvis popped the trunk and squeezed Becky’s knee, turning to give her a soft kiss followed by a second, more vigorous smack. His fingers tousled her curly locks as he comforted her.

“S’gonna be great…” his voice lilted up into a refrain. “Welcome ta my world… Becky Butt” he grinned, giving her a wink as he slapped her thigh and opened his door.

Elvis pulled himself out of the car and strode around to grab Becky’s door just as she was about to pop it open. Taking her hand, he adjusted his sunglasses and smiled wide, tugging her up the portico behind Jerry. Opening the front door, Jerry glanced briefly at Becky, then told Elvis’ he’d run the bag Ida packed upstairs. Elvis stopped them in the front foyer, his arms hugging Becky from behind as he clasped his large hands around her waist and notched his chin into her neck. He nuzzled into her right ear as Becky looked from one side of the entry way to the other. Her eyes took in the scarlet red carpeting that trailed down the grand staircase in front of her and lined all the floors that she could see, punctuated by the occasional white fur rug.

“Welcome to Graceland….” Elvis whispered. Becky’s cheeks began to match the carpet as Elvis hummed “Amazing Grace,” into her neck with a mischievous grin that told Becky he was also thinking about the same intimate moment they had shared two nights ago. The image of Elvis mouth singing this song as he licked her pussy was now indelibly linked to in her mind. 

“So… whatcha think?” Those same lips asked.

Red. That was Becky’s first impression of Graceland’s interior. The color was so overwhelming, it was the only thing she could think of as she looked around. Deep, scarlet velvet drapes lined with golden fringe hung down to meet the carpet at the entrance to every room. The dining room table on her left was enclosed by high-backed candy apple colored chairs covered with rhinestones. To the right was a parlor with a long Victorian settee that was, you guessed it, a deep Burgundy color held up by a white wooden trim. Becky momentarily mused that this might be what Belle Watlings' vagina looked like: an ornate opening lined by red velvet drapery welcoming customers into its cavernous warmth. It was the sort of place a girl would feel comfortable getting an unexpected visit from Aunt Flo. Or the perfect setting for a villain to hold a clandestine meeting with James Bond. Becky kept all of these thoughts to herself, inhaling deeply as she took it all in.

“Wow… it's … so… fancy… like no where I’ve ever been, that’s fa sure…”

Elvis seemed pleased by this response, and kissed Becky’s neck. She murmured at the warmth of his breath on her skin as she continued.

“Gosh… s’not what I expected… S’much bigger than I thought driving up…”

“Mhmmm…. That’s what all the girls say— ouch!”

Becky reached her hand above her to playfully slap Elvis’ face, and he bite his lip and waggled his eyebrows down at her. Elvis’ thumb nestled inside inside Becky’s palm, swiping up and down slowly over her soft skin as he led her excitedly around through the dining room and into the kitchen where they came upon a short, stout Black woman filling the refrigerator with Pepsi bottles.

 Elvis dropped Becky’s hand to make a loud “CLAP,” chuckling as the woman jumped back and shrieked. 

“Oh lawd, Elvis, ya scared me outta of my skin!”

Elvis hugged the woman, speaking through his chuckles. “Jus keepin’ ya on yo toes Miss Mary, I reckon it’s been too quiet round here since I been gone…”

“Hmmm, well your daddy been callin’ over to ask if you back yet, want me to —”

“Nah, let the old bugger stew… he’s pestering me ‘bout that plane, an I don’t care ta hear it.” Elvis rubbed Mary’s shoulder, then turned to look back at Becky. “Mary, I got a lil girl I’m awfully fond of that I want ya ta meet, this here’s — ”

“Why it’s Becky!” 

There was Charlie, a big beaming smile radiating happiness through the kitchen as he walked in from the other side.

“Hmmpf… if it ain’t ol Waterhead ‘im self….” Elvis walked back over to Becky and drew her into him tight, kissing her forehead as his eyes narrowed and Elvis’ left hand grazed the top of his belt. 

Charlie’s expression toward Becky shifted immediately from joyful greeting to a more solemn “Glad to see ya ma’am.”

Mary asked Elvis what time he wanted dinner, exclaiming, “Well, an early dinner, huh,” in response to his 8 pm request.

“Woke up early ta day, Miss Mary… Becky Butt here’s harsh mistress, had me up all hours a the night,” he winked and then smiled deeper as Becky’s face grew red. “Then she had us up at 8 ta drive her baby to summer camp… who knows when her demands will end?”

“Ha, you have some nerve, Elvis Presley…” Becky whispered into Elvis armpit, pinching him under his jacket and causing him to chuckle and kiss her forehead again.

Elvis twirled her out from his side, looking at her as he swung her around. “Ain’t she just got the perfect hourglass figure Mary? Just need to get her some nice clothes, add a lil’ make up, and she shines like the Hope diamond...” 

Becky swung herself back into his armpit with another pinch and reddening cheeks, whispering “Considering everything you put me though today, I look like a movie star…”

“Yeah…ya sure do look like a movie star, honey…like Bette Davis in Baby Jane….” Then Becky’s face fell and Elvis stopped snickering and rubbed her back, his lips on her head. “Oh sweetheart, I didn’t mean it now…” he laughed as she hit him and burrowed into his armpit further.

Jerry’s footsteps announced his entrance into the kitchen behind them and Becky turned to see him nod at Charlie before briefing Elvis on some scheduling and business matters. Becky stole a glance at Charlie and smiled at his shrug and eye roll, half of which Elvis caught and responded to with a sharp look in Charlie’s direction, tightening his grip on Becky’s waist. 

“Huh, well, keep me posted when Dave lands at the airport tomarra with Lisa… alright, enough pleasantries, c’mon lil’ gal, Imma give ya the VIP tour….”  

Becky smiled and called out behind her, “Nice to meet you Mary, good to see you Charlie!” before she felt the clack of the swinging door her backside.

Elvis lugged her into the back hallway to a room with bright green carpeting and wood panelling. The coffee table looked as through it had been sliced out of a tree, and the soft trickle of falling water drew Becky’s attention to the north wall as Elvis sank into a brown fur-lined couch. He pulled her onto his lap, twin sea serpents roaring out of the carved wooden armrests to meet Becky’s hand as she steadied herself to keep from falling off Elvis. To balance, Becky settling her bottom into Elvis’ groin, and he pulled Becky closer, leaning back as his fingers worked their way under Becky’s tee-shirt to caress the softness of her belly, his voice rumbling into her neck.

“This is the den…whaddya think?” 

Becky turned to look at him, his hands shifted her around so she was now straddling him where he sat at the sofa’s edge.

“It’s magical… this is my favorite room so far… right here…” 

Elvis lit up behind his lavender glasses at the wonder in Becky’s upturned eyes; he relished her gasp at the green carpet covering the ceiling above. His right hand massaged the tender hip flesh spilling out of her jeans, while his left hand moved under her shirt to where her shapely bosom jiggled ever so slightly with the delicate thrusts Elvis’  begin to send upward into her, and he leaned in to kiss her clavicle.

“Elvis… you.. havta… I wanna… you’re in the middle of giving me a tour…” Becky whispered, the burn of desire beginning to brush at her base. She grasped his left wrist to stop the jaunty beat his index finger was flicking into her nipple. 

He ignored her, his eyes singularly focused on her bust. “Honey, I don’t know if you are aware of this, but you are not wearing a brassiere….” 

“Mhmm yeah, that was a clothing choice made in a hurry this morning, out of comfort and necessity… it is NOT an invitation…”

Elvis smirked to himself as his fingers relented, only to be replaced by his warm mouth pressing into Becky’s pebbled nip through her tee shirt, mumbling into her breast.

“Well sho seems like an invitation …*suckle* …to this humble wanderer …*suckle* …feel like I been stuck in the desert …*suckle* …seeking sustenance…*suckle*… an now ya’d deny me…” his mouth pressed his teeth through the now damp fabric onto her nipple, “this ripe fruit I’ve found…that I so desperately need ta nourish …*suckle* …ma soul…” 

Becky couldn’t stop the moan escaping from her chest despite her exasperated fatigue and self-conscious awareness. Elvis’ hands moved to fondle her bottom and pull her further onto him, and he squeezed her cheeks as she giggled. Suddenly she wasn't that tired and instinctively surged into Elvis’ lap, before pushing off of his chest and wriggled backwards. She felt his growing erection as she stumbled off him and balanced her self on the ground. Shakng her head, Becky smoothed down her tee shirt and tried to keep a straight face striding backwards along the couch, stopping at the dual staircases at the back of the room.

“Hey now… mister… there are people in the next room over… why don’t we continue the tour …”

Elvis stood, lips parted below a predatory look as if he might leap over the sofa and devour her right there and then. Becky shrieked as he stalked toward her.

“Hmmmm… s’my house honey, and I do what I want.. where I want… so no reason to be worried… this is all part of my hands-on, personal tour…” He caught up with her and pulled her into him.

“Well…” Becky leaned up, her lips faintly hovered below his. “Those hands are… gonna havta catch me… don’t know what kind of girl you think I am but I don’t go ‘round making love in public places… or before this tour is finished!”

She giggled again as she rushed down the staircase to the basement, Elvis' loud belly laugh followed her as the sound of his heavy foot steps filled the passage way. Turning back briefly, Becky saw that Elvis’ body  blocked out all the sunshine from the corridor. His ravenous expression sent a thrill up her spine as she tripped down into the darkness of the basement and ran smack! into a doorframe. Elvis caught up to her as she massaged her fingers into the side of her forehead, that's probably gonna cause bump... how sexy.

“Mmhmmmm … look what I caught … think this tour is over… for now…” Elvis kissed her shoulder from behind, his breath trembling out a chuckle between his words. “Oh no, ya not hurt?”

She smiled. “No, I’m fine… just stupid.. runnin’ round a basement in the dark…”

Elvis pulled her in, replacing her fingers with his lips. “Aww, baby, let him kiss it and make it better…” He peppered soft, sweet kisses on her temple and Becky felt the cool sheen of perspiration on his chin from the jaunt down the stairs. The soft, damp sensation of his skin against her was electrifying, and she absorbed him eagerly, her hands went under his jacket till he shouldered it off,  his hands trailing down to her waist. She groaned out as the heft of his body insistently impelled her into the doorframe. 

Becky bit her lip as her hands meandered over Elvis’ back, cherishing the soft, pliable ridges and rolls, then daintily moving up to clasp his neck. He muttered out an “OH baaaaby…” and she responded with a whimper. Elvis grinned wide, stroking Becky’s cheek with his knuckles, down to her mouth, his kisses moving lower along her neck, more  passionate and insistent with each smoosh. 

Elvis grunted and heaved as hee lifted Becky up, carrying her moaning body through the doorframe an onto a dark, velvet, sectional, her head bump all but forgotten. Her eyes sort of noticed her surroundings, yellow and black walls lit by a dim solitary table lamp at a bar. Becky’s eyes adjusted to the darkness and watched Elvis kneel down in front of her and place his glasses back on the coffee table behind him. Looking up, she realized the ceiling in here was made entirely of mirrors.

“So… is this another den?”

“Mhmmmm ….  tvs, movie screen, record player, bar…” He leaned into her, hands on Becky’s thighs. “Got all the entertainment i need right here though...jus wanna look atcha ....  still a second… no moar running …” 

Becky exhaled and sat up, stroking the hair off Elvis’s face as he caught his breath, captivated by the pull of his deep, blue eyes. They were like the middle of the ocean and called her to jump off her life raft and dive right in.

“You are… you are …” she mumbled, running her left fingers through his sideburns, trying to think of the right words to tell him how attractive she found him, how his smile and that impish way his mouth quirked and his eyes danced with desire commanded her to body forward toward him. But all the phrases that came to Becky’s mind seemed inadequate and cliche. Also, she was reluctant to let him know how she felt, insecure and afraid it made her boring, easy, a push over. She had the impression Elvis needed validation, but also enjoyed the pursuit. 

Becky looked down at his thumbs trailing over the ridge of her jeans, his eyes intent on her.

“Hmmm… yeah baby, whatcha trying ta say?”

“You are… not so bad… for an… Elvis Presley…” Becky closed her eyes and held him to her cheek, as he chuckled softly, and started unbuttoning her pants.

“Well I like you too, darlin’… mmhmm…” His eyes were earnest and she inhaled as they narrowed, his hands were needy as her pulled off her jeans and threw them behind him. Becky guffawed watching them fall over a white, porcelain monkey that gleamed in the dark. 

Then he suckled at her nape, and Elvis’ cheeks scrunched up in a smile at Becky’s moans, inhaling as he moved to draw off her panties. She could feel the excitement scorching up her center as he looked into her eyes, tugging her panties off. Becky sucked in her tummy, maybe he won't notice the soft stretch marks at her hips. Stretch marks were the last thing on his mind, and her full, round hips beckoned him to grab on and smother himself within her. Elvis’ eyes looked into Becky's with a fiendish gleam, and he arched his left eyebrow as his hands continued to pull at her underwear without looking down. Becky giggled while he pursed his lips, removing her pink cotton skivvies one leg at a time. Elvis’ baritone voice dipped low as he lifted her legs over his shoulders, his thumbs teasing over her soft, curly fur, then slowly parting her lower lips.

“Hello darlin’ nice ta see ya….….It’s been a long time…” he sang, kissing the hair at the top of her entrance,  once, twice, three times. “…Ya just as lovely as you used to be…”

Becky started chuckling, “I think Conrad Twitty would be horrifi——” her commentary on Elvis’ serenade to her pussy was interrupted by the flick of his tongue on her clit.  She arched her head involuntarily as his chuckles hummed in to her. Opening her eyes, Becky saw Elvis’ body in-between her legs above her in the mirrors. His head bobbed forward and back as his fingers sought out the silkiness within her, prodding her pleasure point. Elvis tongue seared a path along her center, and a warm throbbing began to ache causing Becky to shift her hips forward to meet his mouth, twitching in sync with the glide of his fingers. Moving his index and forefinger up and down into her, Elvis let up from his efforts momentarily to look at her face, beaming at the way her lip hung down and her face convulsed in time with his fingers' movements. His head turned up into the mirrors reveling at the view of himself pleasuring Becky, widening her legs a bit so he could get a better view of his hand inside her. Becky cried out as his index finger made contact with that special spot once more, and he looked her dead in the eyes.

“Enjoy watching you squirm, darlin….”

Becky had trouble forming a sentence, stuttering out “Uhh.. well.. that… you know…” 

Elvis laughed and returned to her cunt like a man who'd been fasting a month, consuming her with firm, generous strokes. Becky felt the tension build, and her eyes went back up at the mirrors when she arched herself into him, watching as Elvis’ devoured her and his strangled breath filled the room. He was knuckles deep inside her, flexing back and forth in tandem as his tongue cleaned her, each round bringing her a step closer to absolution. Her fingers threaded through  Elvis’ dark hair, and in the dim light of the mirrors, Becky would swear she had a wild boar between her legs. A grunting,  dark, wild beast snorting and rooting for treasure in her depths. Her hips thrust up into Elvis’ face with a powerful whack and he grabbed her buttocks, his lips sucking her nub through the waves of heat that broadcast out through her entire body. Thrashing, twitching and cursing like a sailor, she tried to free herself from the overstimulation of Elvis’ soft mouth and hard tongue.

“Fuck fffffff fucking FUCKKKKK ing FFucccKKKKKK cocksucking motherfucking FUCK I can’t believe that……”

She panted hard, shaking her head at the smug, devilish look on Elvis face as he lowered her feet in front of her and wiped himself on her thigh. His fingers did a squeeze inside and a chuckle came out watching Becky twitch and jerk on his hand. She grabbed his shoulder, tightly, a sign to stop. “S’too much … to intense.” He did it one last time chuckling, then relented and glided his fingers out from her, licking them with filthy glee.

“Ha! I've never met anyone… who did that… who cared.. or liked the way women taste … like you do….” Becky exhaled, catching her breath.

“Mhmmm… not all women… but you … you taste amazing… I could eat this for breakfast, lunch and dinner…. And still be hongry fa moar…..” 

Becky laughed, sliding forward on the sofa and pulling his head to hers to crush their mouths together. It was like being inside herself. The hands cupping her cheeks, his entire face, it all smelled like her. And him. Sweat and spit and cologne and lavender oil and dirty hair. All melded together. It was intoxicating, and they stayed like this for several minutes, locked in a lover’s embrace, the smacks of their sloppy kisses replacing the sound of  Elvis face slapping against Becky’s thighs. Becky wound her legs around his bottom, and he grabbed her, lifting her up off the couch then thumping her back down as he ambled  over to the bar.

“Pffft… need.. some…water…”

She followed, and Elvis grinned at the sound of Becky’s wet nakedness squelching over the yellow bar stool.

“Thanks for polishin’ the furniture, baby…..” Elvis winked, as she inadvertently squeaked again against the leather.

Becky blushed, and Elvis’ jaw widened with a deep breath. 

“Damn, honey, I’ll never get sick a watchin’ that blush creep up ya widdle cheeks…” He leaned over the bar and squished her cheeks with his right hand, kissing her forehead.  

She stood and backed away as he came around the bar.

“S’not nice to tease a girl… first you offer to give me tour, but then corner me in this here tv room, and now ya making fun of the way all your cavorting makes me squeak and blush——”

He grabbed her to him, pulling her lips back onto his. She giggled and squirmed away.

“Oh no you don’t—”

Elvis stepped toward her again, but Becky squealed and turned, running back into the basement corridor. She didn’t have a plan, and when she remembered she wasn't wearing pants she scurried into the dark room across. Elvis’ body clambered loudly behind her as he growled. “Though we agreed no more runnin.’” 

She stumbled back onto a large table as Elvis caught up and lifted her onto the thick barrier of a pool table. Becky’s hands half-heartedly pushed back against his chest as she whined.

“Now Elvis… pretty sure I was promised sound proof walls ….”

Elvis mumbled into her ear, “Hmmm.. that why you got me chasin’ you round, tryin not to excite me???? I’d rather be in the comfort an privacy of that a room too ...  but it is much too far away… two floors too far ta be exact… don't worry, though, this basement is sound proof too … I've tested it ma self…" He winked. "Ain’t no one gonna know …” 

Becky stopped nuzzling back into him, her tone became earnest. “Have you done it lot… down here…? Made love, I mean?” 

Elvis stood up straight and grunted, his hands steadying her precarious position on the edge of the pool table.

“That was probably the wrong thing ta say, hmmmm?”

Becky’s eyes trailed to the dark hall way she had just run through, and told her self to be cool… you knew he has more experience than you… a lot more… what did you expect? Would it matter if you were in his bed? Probably fucked even more women there….

“Nooooooo…I guess I’m a idiot for asking…” she shifted up to look into his dark eyes. 

Elvis wiped his forehead while he pushed himself between Becky’s legs. His hands were rubbing her thighs softly up and down, and he glanced down at her chest before returning his gaze to those big brown eyes. The look there made him regret even conjuring up past sexual escapades. The wholly unfiltered, self-conscious insecurity in her eyes made her all the more alluring. Becky was unvarnished, unaffected, and the way she didn't try to cover up her nervousness in order to impress made him throb with yearning. Acting like a damn teenager, running after women in hallways or corridors, he thought, your gonna feel this in the morning. Who are you kidding. In an hour. Elvis really would have preferred to take Becky the comfort of his bed, but at this precise moment comfort was from from a priority, all he knew was that needed to feel Becky’s skin against his, feel himself inside her, possessing her completely and defusing all her misgivings about him with the warm deluge of his adoration. 

“Nah, not an idiot at all… look, we’re both grown ups… we have histories…” he kissed her neck slowly, tenderly. Her eyes closed with a quiver as his voice dissolved in her inhibitions. “Make you feel better if I tell ya it’s been years since I fooled round down here? Aw honey…. I can't even remember their faces ... don’t want anyone else but you…” 

Will you remember mine in a year? She wondered, but her body didn't care, and it's instincts propelled her back into him. She pulled his neck to her and his lips hit her forehead. He felt his manhood stiffen even more and it made his fingers needier as they trailed up her sides. Elvis’ lower lip hung down with longing and his eye lids drooped with lust. Becky hastily began to unbutton his white dress shirt.

“Ahh, sweet baby, you’re so goddamn beautiful….” Elvis voice made Becky stop mid-button  and she looked up at him, her hands moving up to his cheeks.

“Please don’t lay that charm on too thick… I’m already here… I’m naked…an… I know you like me an…  I can feel you’re attracted—” 

Elvis pulled her hand down to feel the pulsating steel rod bursting along his slacks “ — Ya can, huh? Feel my attraction?” Then he saw the hesitancy in her eyes. “Wuss tha matter sweetheart?”

Becky sighed. “I just….I know I’m not beautiful, not like the super models I’ve seen you with in newspapers and magazines…. I just… if you exaggerate, go too over-the-top… well,  it ruins it for me… I hate false compliments…”

Elvis’ eyes narrowed. “Honey, over-the-top is my middle name… ”

Becky let out an involuntary guffaw. “Say that again… I mean, this whole house... But what I mean is, I wish you would stop givin’ me your pretty movie star lines —”

Elvis shook his head and grabbed Becky by the chin, the look in his eyes an intense warning. “Sometimes you make me think no one has ever told ya you were beautiful…” The way she pushed his hand aside and looked down, uncomfortably told Elvis he had accidentally stumbled on the truth. “Nooo….. never? I don believe it….. no, cuz ya really are… here, I gotta turn the light on jus so’s I can see ya better….” 

He flipped a switch on the wall, and suddenly the pool room was bathed in a warm glow. Becky gasped as the light revealed a cacophony of textured colors along cloth-covered walls. Her eyes followed the fabric up to the ceiling, feeling as though she had slipped under the skirt of a Victorian lady. Colorful pleats lined the walls and gathered into the middle of the room above two hanging Tiffany lamps. Elvis lips on her shoulder as his hands took off her shirt brought Becky back into her body. A breathy giggle worked it’s way out when Elvis’ knuckles stroked Becky’s face. She quit resisting and just held up her hands, watching as he lifted her shirt over her head and gulped, his eyes languidly roving up and down her body. 

“Mhmmm… yessiree… fit right in here with all the other beautiful things I fill this ole house with…ya know… I have an eye for beautiful things —”

“Elvis, please… quit teasin,’”  Becky wiped a lone tear drop from the side of her right eye.

Elvis brought her hands up to his lips, kissing each top as he held her gaze. “Woman, you better stop that… might think you’re questioning my aes -thee- ET-ic taste.” He drawled, clearly amusing himself with his pronunciation of aesthetic. 

Inhaling, Elvis pulled Becky’s face back towards his with a kiss that lingered on her soft lips. Elvis coughed as Becky pulled off his shirt and his tummy jiggled with a wave of laughter. Looking down, she saw him flinch at his own belly and Becky dragged the back of her hand across it slowly, sensuously.

“You are… the most handsome man…” Then she blushed and hid her face in his chest hair, her hands curving up around his neck as she tried to crush herself into him, kissing his sternum and muttering how she was glad she’d met him.

“Why honey… there she is… there’s that sweet girl I like, been hidin’ underneath all that sass…”  Elvis breathed into her ear, his hands moving over her head, tousling her hair, then using his right hand to bring her chin up to his. “Becky, ya like a goddamn Greek goddess … if I say your beaut - TEE - full, then ya are, end of story …. Don’t ever wanna hear you tellin’ me what I can or can na say… ’specially when I’m in the throes of love making,” he chuckled. “Derails my manEUvers …”

Elvis hot breath clucked into Becky’s ear, he kissed her cheek and waggled his eyes. Becky pulled herself to him, and began unlatching his pants. Elvis stopped her, drawing out his pistol and pushing it across the pool table. Becky watched the metal of the gun glisten, the carved handle was elaborately engraved and she caught his grin watching her eyes follow it.

“That thing s’not loaded, is it?”

Elvis laughed. “Course it is, baby, how else arm I s’posed to use it? I’m always ready for action…”

“Hmmm. Speaking of which….” Becky’s hand returned to Elvis’ pants. “Are you aware, Mr. Presley… that you are not wearing any underwear?” She asked, in a high, breathy refrain pulling down his pants and and gripping his cock gently. “Someone might say s’its … almost an invitation…?” Elvis bent his head back as a loud belly laugh escaped his throat. 

“There ya go, using ma own words against——uhhh fuck, baby girl!” Elvis looked down to watch as Becky lowered herself in front of him and kissed the tip of his cock, her eyes all innocence.

“What? Just bein’ friendly… responding to that open invitatioOOM…..” She grinned as she plunged her mouth around him half way through the last word, humming the syllable onto him while her eyes widened and she grasped the rolling handles at his side to hand on to.

Elvis tried to pull her arm back up. “Honey, I don’t wantcha to do that… s’not something I like from women I respect…”

Becky pulled his hand off, her puzzling eyes searching his face. “I did this the first night we met…”

“Well… didn’t think I was ever gonna see ya again… didn’t realize how much I liked ya til I woke up and you were gone…”

“Well, s’too late… I got a taste for this lil fella, and it’s hardly hospitable —” Becky kissed his tip and Elvis shuddered. “To invite me to dinner then not feed me…” she grinned, as he shook his head and put his hands up in defeat, giving in to the irresistible movements of her mouth over, under and on his johnson.

Becky tried to exude a sexy playful confidence, but then gasped and choked as she forced his girthy length to the back of her throat, giggling at Elvis’ bemused expression. His heart swelled with reverence as his cock thrust into the glorious traction of Becky’s mouth. His fingers gently dragged through her hair, and he sucked in his breath while expelling a succession of needy “fucks.” Elvis lifted his head to the heavens in prayer when his tip banged into the softness of her throat, moaning while Becky stubbornly sucked in further, her cheeks hallowed and her mouth coughing down the gag reflex as best she could. Making eye contact, Elvis couldn’t help the way his hips surged back and forth almost of their own volition at a increased pace, spurred on by the determined look in Becky’s watery eyes. 

“Fuck honey… whooo…hey…. ok…I am gonna compromise and say…ya can do this anytime ya want…” 

Becky giggled at that into his cock as she glided forward.

Elvis could feel his orgasm bubbling up, and seized the side of Becky’s head to stop her, “Darlin, I wanna be inside you…. Come up here…” Elvis held out his hand and gently turned her against the pool table with a questioning eyebrow. She nodded and leaned into the wooden ledge of the pool table, sighing out as she felt Elvis kiss her shoulder and tilt her hips to him. She watched his dazzled expression over her shoulder as he pushed in and out of her slowly. He looked into her eyes while lunging in farther and groaning out a “FUck honeeeyyy.” Becky gasped sharply, savoring the tight pinch this position created.

“Damn, baby… you wuddna hardly think I been breaking you in all week..”

Becky giggled, “Elvis, how can you talk about me like that? Ughhh …. I’m not a horse…. Ughhhh….”

“I know, honey, I know… and I wantcha ohhh god damn…. Unnnnhhhhh…. meant no disrespect… but ….I am just always surprised how I wished I had a damn shoe horn with me... every time.” He laughed at her pout, and then moaned. “Now Becky Butt" he hit her bottom as he pulled out with a slight pat, "Don't look at me that -a way, s'its a compliment… should thank me… god DAMN woman….”

Elvis shifted positions to steady himself and smiled when he noticed that Becky sighed out with a crescendoing “oohHHHHhhhhhhhahh” every time he speared her at this new angle. Elvis let out a low chuckle, muttering, “Can ya hear ya self Becks? Like a goddamn accordion, suga… think... I found… ma new favorite instrument… Becky’s squeezebox…”

Becky shook her head, giggling and then moaning out again as she leaned into the hard surface of the pool table. Elvis’ heaved and breathed a little harder as he moved his right hand around Becky’s waist and began to rub her clit, grunting into the pale alabaster skin of her shoulder. 

“Oh my fucking Gawd Elvis… what are you doing to me? I don’t know if I can take any more” She moaned out, looking back at him through messy hair.

He kissed her neck. “Shhhhh…. now... let daddy take… care…UNGHHH… a ya…” then grunted again, burrowing back into her.

Eyes squeezed shut, Becky shuddered with each thrust backwards, her body clapping onto his in a rhythmic tug-a-war chasing the heat churning in her core. It broke loose, galloping over her like a runaway horse, and Becky screamed a long, loud guttural cry that echoed through the basement, up the stairway and through the entire north wing of Graceland. Mary sat at the kitchen counter drinking her coffee and smiling into her newspaper, shaking her head. It had been a long while since the sounds of lovemaking had ricocheted through the halls of Graceland like that.

“Uhhhh, there she goes… good girl…. ” Elvis slowed down, his lips planting a succession of soft pecks along the back of Becky’s shoulder, pushing her hair gently aside, and then moving his hands to tap out a pitter patter along the top ridge of her bottom where he continued to dip in and out of her.

“Oh goodness… ughhh… do you t think they heard me up stairs?”

“Nah, honey…don’t trouble ya self… I promise you, no one knows what we’re up to down here… could be playing billiards... mmHHMMm…unghhhhh… or watchin’ TV… or making a porno for all they know..”

“HA! Unghhhhh” Becky bite her lip, forgetting to be affronted enveloped by the comfort of Elvis' sweaty, warm body.

He leaned further and further into her, the thunder of each thrust reverberate up through Elvis’ tummy onto her, his hips crushing her even harder onto the pool table. Becky rocked back and forth with Elvis’ body in a post-orgasmic high, looking up at the colorful walls through blurry vision. She was inside a kaleidoscope, and she smiled watching the technicolor spectacle dance in front of her eyes. Elvis increased the tempo of his efforts. 

“Honey, I’m bout ta explode…”

His fingernails dug into her sides as he moaned out deeper, his head throttled backwards, hips prodding into her slowly and deliberately, evincing a moan with each thrust until he came with a loud grunt, singing breathlessly as he sputtered into her.

“Aaaaamen….. aaaaamen…. AAAAMEN… amen … ammmmmennnnnn.” 

Then Elvis collapsed head forward into the space between her shoulder blades, wiping sweat and hair onto her back as he whispered, “Thank ya Gawwwd… for bringing this lil gal ta me …. Lord… I feel your spirit.” 

Becky shook her head with a breathy chuckle. “Well, now I feel your spirit all over me…”

Elvis kissed her with a laugh, fondling her hips and pressing back into her deeper as he softened.

“Hmmmm… good… s’holy sacrement…” Elvis said, eyes closed, as he kissed her cheek, rubbing her sides slowly up and down as lil Elvis savored the warm, wet cloister of her cunt.

He almost collapsed over her, muttering goddamns until their breath synchronized. Elvis’ hands stilled on Becky’s hips and he coughed out, grunting, then laughing. She rolled over, gazing at him with amusement as he staggered back for effect and pulled up his pants. Her eyes danced over his wide, glistening body, the chest hair matted down, the belly that heaved forward and distended over his waist, his goofy boyish smile beaming from ear to ear. It was almost regal how he held his hands pushed into his hips, below a belly that jutted out. He took his shirt and bent to gently wipe between, gathered the cloth into his face with a loud, effected sniff before putting it back on. Their eyes met, giddy laughter echoed through the room.

Elvis  zipped up his pants and retrieved his gun, giving Becky a naughty wink as he pushed it back into his waist. His shirt hung open as he turned to move across the passage way walked back to the TV room and collapsed on the sectional. His chest heaved and his breath was ragged.

“Goddammit woman… tha most exercise since ma last concert.” Elvis combed his hand through his damp sweaty locks, looking over as Becky followed him, barefoot in just her her shirt and bending to finding her panties near the couch. Elvis pulled her on to him at the couch, kissing her belly.

“Got me runnin’ round like a 20 year old horn dawg…." Then he slapped her bottom. Again. "Well, don’t just sit here women, do something… help me...go get me a Pepsi, huh baby?”

Glancing into the mirrors above her, Becky’s eyes met Elvis’ smirking reflection.

“Nex time we’ll have ta try it in here… ”

Becky guffawed loudly, and pushed his shoulder with her head, then getting up to grab some drinks from the bar.

“You truly are a lecherous old goat…”

“Aww Becky, love it when ya talk dirty ta me… you have no idea what a dirty old goat I can be…. Jus you wait…” Elvis chortled.

She dropped next to him with the sodas, and watched as he drained half of his in one fell swoop. She leaned her head into the curve of his arm, bouyed up by his chest, she listened to the sound of his heavy exhales as he fiddled with a strange contraption pointed at the TV.

“What’s that?” Becky asked, soothing her hands over his belly.

“This… this is really high tech stuff… s’ a remote control…welcome to the future, Twitch…got all the latest gear ….let me show you how it works.” Elvis sipped his drink and excitedly explained the science behind his gadget , showing Becky how it turned the TVs on and off using blah blah blah radar gizmo whatevers. She vaguely ohed and ahed, happily trying it out as his hand guided over her over the switches and buttons on the device. Just enjoying the feeling of his chest under her head. Becky scootched closer as Elvis’ left hand trailed down her side. She let her head sank down more and more into the top of his tummy, rubbing his belly hair as she watched the three TVs in the wall flicker on. Before she passed out, she wondered how anyone could possibly follow three different news programs at once.

*************************************************************

Becky awoke to the sound of voices behind her, alone on the sofa and uncertain where she was for a moment. She closed her eyes again instinctively. Someone else, an older man perhaps, was speaking in a whispered hush with Elvis in the hallway.

“—— well I wish you had made your damn mind up ‘bout which airplane ya wanted before I gave the other one a down payment. Now I have this new contract with Delta … just don’t know what was wrong with chartering —”

“Aw hell, daddy, s’just money… you think I’m gonna stand by while Killer gets his own plane, an I’m still waitin’ on the runway with my dick in my hand for a charter? No sireee… ya got another thing comin’” 

There was a long silent pause.

“Well… ya tied my hands now anyway… and I’m left cleaning up the mess… Speaking of people who clean up ya mess, where’s Linda?”

“How should I know? In the condo I bought her in LA, or the house I got her round the corner… actin’ like a hurt puppy dog sulking back and forth and hardly sayin a word to me in the last few weeks… refused to come on tour…”

“Well, she isn’t refusing that credit card you gave her, just got the latest American Express bill and let me tell ya, it’s a doozy…”

“Now, I promised that girl I’d take care a her, long as she wants, so don’t bring all that up again… don’t care if she charges $30 or $30,000… still my gal….”

“IS she? Maybe she’d be ‘round more if you didn’t bring floozies like that un home —”

“Now daddy, that lil gal right there is a good, sweet kid, won’t have you disrespectin’ Becky—”

“Uh huh, and what pills is Becky on, hmmm?”

“Nothing… she’s just tired.” Becky could almost hear the smirk in Elvis’s voice as it went lower. “Poor thing ain’t had a lick a sleep in the last three days… but she’s a good girl. Comes from a good family back in Jackson.”

“Mhmmm… well, I never know who I’m gonna find here, some stranger you picked up at the gate? A baseball announcer? The local PE teacher? Or a random super model you’ve decided to buy an apartment for and put on the payroll without telling me… probably just be cheaper to give the local brothel a full retainer…”

“Ok, now, daddy… that’s enough… I don’t wanna think bout all this right now…”

“Son, all I’m saying is, I don’t blame Linda for being sore atcha…”

Elvis voice raised by several decibels. “Well, you get your woman under control and then you can come lecture me… last I heard you’d been kicked out of yourn. And got a new house. Let’s not forget who’s payin’ for it all….”

About thirty seconds of silence passed.

“Well, I ——“

“I’m ‘bout to wake that lil gal up, so we can go dress for supper - SO leave it. Nuff. I don’t wanna squabble no more….you should join us to eat, I know’d the gals be happy to see ya…”

“Hmmmm… any other mouths knockin’ ‘bout?”

“Hardly no one tonight… Jus Charlie, Jerry, Billy and his family… ”

“Yeah. No one, just ten people he says… that’s no one… hmmm….I’ll think about it…” 

Becky waited until she heard the footsteps go up the stairs before opening her eyes to see Elvis hovering over her, his shirt was still unbuttoned and he held her jeans over his left arm.

“You’re a bad faker, Becky….”

“Hmmmm?” Becky said, unable to stop the blush returning to her cheeks. “How’d… how’d ya know I was awake?”

Elvis grinned. “Ya snore… s’cutest itty bitty breathy heavin’…. But I noticed a few minutes ago that ya’d stopped, when daddy quit yapping.” He handed her jeans to her. “Here, don’t want no one seein’ ya half naked… Let’s get you covered up….”

Becky flashed a feeble smile as she pulled her pants on, and crooked into Elvis arm, he kissed the top of her head and slapped her bottom to signal she was to trudge up the stairs in front of him.

*************************************************************

Going through her bag, Becky held up another pink halter top and sighed. Before her shower, she had chewed Ida out on the phone for aiding and abetting Elvis with her the surprise trip to Memphis. And for packing an assort of really tight halter tops, mini skirts and a few dresses, all of which she suspected came from her 22 year-old cousin Harriet’s wardrobe. 

“Ida, these clothes barely cover me….” 

“Oy vey, Rebecca, that’s the point….. Ruth’s at camp, I put Saul back at the store, everything is fine, you go have fun… with Elvis Presley….” she screeched his name.

“Ida, don’t get your hopes up…. this is just a short term affair… I don’t want you to be disappointed when this plays itself out…”

“Becky,” Ida’s voice grew stern. “That is exactly the point, my meshugganah kindela… of all the people who get to have an affair with a rock star, why not you? What I would have given for one night with Rudy Vallee….”

Becky sighed. “Ok, ok…. maybe I’ll thank you one day…. give Saul a kiss for me.”

Now she stood in the master bathroom, hair up in a towel, Becky looked back in her traveling bag. No bras, five pairs of underwear, sandals and a pair of nice pumps. Other than this, she had the jeans, tee and converse sneakers she's worn to drive Ruth to camp. There was also little case with her toothbrush, and a bag with some of Ida’s Avon make up, perfume and matching talcum powder in Avon’s original Sweet Honesty scent. Becky grimaced at the sickly intense floral smell, but did a half spray on her wrist anyway. She coughed as the talc powder wafted into her nose when she spread it under her arms and between her thighs to dry and smooth her skin. She straightened the towel wrapped around her wet hair and looked at her face in Elvis’ bathroom. A line of small red bumps had started to form around her chin. Ughhh, this always happens when you start having sex again… you break out. She inspected them closely to make sure they weren’t white heads, and then rummaged through the Avon bag for foundation and concealer. Keeping her make up simple, Becky applied a light layer of mauve eye shadow to match the flowers on the white floral dress she had picked out, and the pair of light mauve shoes Ida had packed. She shimmied into the dress, smoothing it down, looking at the way the thin white floral pattern stretched over her breasts and then clung to her body's ample curves. The top only had one tied, petal sleeve, her other shoulder was bare and she sighed. This had been the most modest clothing nice option for dinner she had found in the bag.

When she finally emerged into the bedroom, glanced over Elvis’ large, black bed frame and the dark Burgundy bedspread covering it. Shivering in the cool air, she walked over and checked out the assortment of pistols, rifles and hand guns on top of his big dresser.  Elvis footsteps brought her eyes up from the arsenal, and she smiled at the white tailored suit and blue silk shirt ruffled he wore. Her breath hitched in her throat as he straightened his sunglasses, and ran his hand through his long shag hairdo. Then he moved closer and Becky felt the elastic give of her dress ripple when Elvis' fingers snapped the tie holding her lone sleeve up.

(Just imagine this dress but one asymmetical sleeve ^)

“Hmmm, couldn’t you find anything revealing to show off how pretty ya are for my folks, hmmm?” 

Becky’s bottom lip dropped down with her eyes, and she lifted her hands to nervously fix some of the hair pinned on top of her hair in a messy bun, a worried expression on her face. “I thought this was too revealing—”

Elvis smirked, chuckling, “No, I know honey ...  seems like they forget a whole sleeve… not that this sleeve has much to it neither… that little knot is holding on for dear life…” His hand moved under her breasts to jostle them up with a soft swat and eyes watched with delight as her bosom bounced up and down. “Hope you didn’t pay full price for this half a dress…” his eyes lit up when Becky elbowed him. “… Aw, no, I like it…  sexy as hell…”  He whispered in her ear and the warmth of his breath sent a tingle up her spin and through her core. 

Becky’s nether regions shivered, still sensitive from earlier activities, moreso as the soreness settled in from the vigorous pounding Elvis had given her. She had felt a slight burn when she peed, and she made a mental note to drink a lot of water. You don’t want to get a UTI on the first fucking day here. Maybe do some kegels during dinner too.

Elvis’ kissed Becky’s cheek, breaking her train of thought as he led her downstairs. Feeling her shiver, he covered as much of her bare skin as he could by hugging her into his jacket. “Maybe wouldn’t be so cold if ya invested in some long underwear…”

Becky nuzzled into his armpit. “Maybe if you didn’t live in a meat locker people could dress comfortably…” 

The sound of Elvis’ hand walloping Becky’s bottom (AGAIN) rang through the stairway with the rumble of his “Quit ya fussin’, woman, ain’t gonna change the temperature a this house jus' cuz you can’t be bothered to own a bra.”

Dinner was laid out in the kitchen, and Becky retreated further into Elvis’ embrace as he introduced her properly to his younger cousin Billy, who she’d seen from afar at the Jackson concerts, Billy’s wife Jo, their sons Danny and Joey, his father, grandmother Minnie Mae, and Aunt Delta, who was curt, quiet and smelled of a heavy rose perfume with an undertone of vodka. She felt naked when Elvis parted from her to make up a plate of food, spooning out black eyed peas with bacon, meatloaf, mashed potatoes and more from the large serving dishes on the counter. She felt even more awkward as he followed Jerry into the dining room while she looked for options not smothered in some sort of pork, smiling nervously at Mary who filled up the pitcher of sweet tea and then stacked more bacon on top of the salad.

When she entered the dining room, Elvis clapped his hand on the red cushion next to him at the head of the table, then stopped mid-sentence in his conversation with Billy to do a double take at Becky’s plate.

“Just cornbread and potatoes?” he asked in an accusatory tone, looking from the plate to Becky’s eyes. The whole table went silent. “There’s salad in there.”

Becky straightened and looked at Elvis. “I’m good. There’s bacon all up in that salad-”

“Well, use ya head, now Becky Butt, you can jus pick it out  - there  I solved ya damn probl—”

“I like this fine,  Presley, mind ya own business.”

Jo gasped, and Billy put his hand over his wife’s under the table. Billy then coughed uncomfortably and tried to change he subject. “You don’t eat bacon? On account of being a Hebr—” 

Elvis put his hand up to stop Billy “On account of being a doggone vegetarian.” Then he looked Becky squarely in the eye, and spoke with a benevolent humor. “No reason to be a bitch ‘bout it.”

Aunt Delta whispered loudly to Jo, “What Billy say?”

“He asked Becky if she didn’t eat pork cuz she’s a Jew.”

Vernon called down to Becky. “That true?”

But Becky was staring back at Elvis. “Look, I was eating my dinner just fine, you’re the one trying to tell me what ta do… I like mashed potatoes an cornbread… mind ya own business…”

“Everythin’ that happens in this house is my business, oughta box ya jaw, talking’ to a man like that in his own damn house …”

“YOU the one that kidnapped me Presley on account of how fond ya are of me, why, I bet you’d sooner hit ya granny there ‘fore you’d hit me.” She arched her eyebrow with a smirk.

“Oh you better shut that big ole mouth, get ya into trouble.” Elvis pulled Becky on his lap, arms around her waist.

She made a tepid attempt to get out of them, squealing loudly. “I don’t havta, you ain’t my boss.”

Before Elvis could answer, Minnie Mae announced, loudly. “Hesh up, canna eat ma supper.” Becky was shocked to hear such a powerful timbre from the frail, thin woman. 

Elvis squeezed her sides, and kissed her neck, whispering. “You heard Dodger, hesh that big mouth up .”

“You better shut up, you love my big ole mouth….” Becky murmured back into his ears, arms around his neck. Elvis leaned his head back, laughing, and Dodger shot Becky a stern look, as if her grand son’s unseemly behavior was somehow her fault.

The others went back to eating and low polite conversation, but Becky finished her meal in another dimension on Elvis lap. She took a large forkful of mashed potatoes, enthusiastically humming “MMMMhmmm MM!” as she swallowed. Elvis shook his head and let out a belly laugh, chewing his meatloaf in her ear and then giving her a big kiss, during which she feigned disgust. 

“Get that meat off my lips, Presley,” she muttered. 

“Huh, ya love my meat, honey.” He growled under his breath, pushing another big bite in his mouth and pressing his mush against her ear. 

Becky writhed silently in her seat, wiping off the greasy ground beef granules sticking on her lobe. “Didn’t no one ever teach ya any manners?” she hissed back at him.

“Gonna teach you some manners…you and that big mouth…” Elvis grinned like a goofy clown, and Becky couldn’t stop his contagious smile and playful energy from taking over her body. 

She beamed back, still trying to seem irritated, murmuring into his fluffy shagged out hair, “Like to see you try…” 

The thin soft knit fabric of Becky’s dress grazed her skin as Elvis massaged the top of her thigh, his strong fingers pinched the side and rubbed the rolls of her hip together, whispering in her ear. “Jus you wait… …”

They spent the meal thusly, in their own dimension at the head of the table, flirting, whispering, pinching, rubbing and feeding each other food. 

Elvis took some black eyed peas, biting the piece of ham hock off his fork, before feeding them into Becky’s open mouth with a “mhmmm... he thinks she needs some veGEeeables…”

Then Becky broke the edge of her corn bread off, “Better shut you up with something sweet in that mouth... know you like sugar on your tongue... Get any a this? Mhmmm… sweetest corn bread I ever ate…” 

He chuckled, talking with her fingers in his mouth. “Honey, I live on sweet stuff... like this cornbread... s'my house…. course it’s the best….”

They were only roused when Vernon stood to leave, followed by Aunt Delta’s movement helping Minnie Mae to her room. Becky started to help Mary clear the table, but Elvis grabbed her hand, telling her to let the woman do her job, and pulled her to follow the rest of the party into the den.  Mary caught Elvis in the back hall to pass him a note, and he motioned to Jerry after he read it, slapping Becky on her butt, which she realized was code for "hi," "get to it," "bye," "good idea," "uh nuh," and many other expressions as he begged off to make a business call in his office. Becky sat making small talk with Billy, Jo and Charlie for a time, then excused herself to fix her face upstairs, a happy excuse to go settle her nerves for a short spell alone and try to salve the self-conscious anxiety gnawing at her diaphragm. As she rounded the top of the stairs, she saw Jerry come out of the office, and he left paused to make sure he left the door ajar as he saw her.

“Everything ok?” Becky straightened her dress strap.

Jerry looked Becky up and down with an uncertain stare, then nodded. “Mhmmm…he’s just talking to his girlfriend in LA, Mindi.” 

Jerry’s heart dropped when he saw Becky’s ashen response, her lip trembled, just for a split second, before she forced a smile. “Oh, ha, well that’s good, was just about to call my sugar daddy in New York….” She changed the topic after shivering from the second floor’s cold air. “Cold, isn’t it… why is it so cold up here?”

Jerry frowned, and decided to go all in. “It’s the downers... the painkillers… makes you feel like you’re in a warm hug, like you are wrapped in a snug wool blanket… “

“How do you know that?”

“Cuz I’ve taken them, Becky… makes me drink gallons of lemonade, only wanna eat ice cream… never have enough of that cold sensation in your mouth, on your skin….”

“Oh.” Becky looked down. “Why does Elvis take them…” She shifted her feet.

“Back pain, insomnia, night terrors… at first… but it's easy to grow a tolerance and he needs more and more… can make him seem out of it.” Jerry stepped closer, and grabbed her arm. “If you are gonna be here, sleep with him, you need to watch him…if he goes to the bathroom , you go to the bathroom, if he passes out, make sure he is breathing… got it?”

The blood drained from Becky’s face, and she thought of the pills he took after the concerts in Jackson.

“Didn’t seem so bad when he was at my house.”

“Cuz he only had the random pills in his pocket… that was an impulsive trip, we didn’t even pack a tooth brush.”

“Oohhhh, haa…”

Her voice trailed off as Jerry patted her shoulder with a sympathetic wink, banking that she wouldn’t tell Elvis about their conversation. Jerry half regretted his bluntness, but her wounded look reaffirmed his commitment to show Becky as much of Elvis’ selfish nature as he could, as quickly as possible. With any luck, he’d have her hightailing it back to Jackson within the next 48 hours. Content with the work he had done, he excused him self for the night, while Becky stayed in the second floor landing, waiting for the sound of Jerry’s footsteps to end so she could creep closer to Elvis’ office and indulge her morbid curiosity.

“—no, no course, no, don’t even talk bout Rome… cuz I said I would… why honey, of course — why all ya gotta do is ask — no, now who’s name is on the marquee… that’s right darlin - my daddy works for me, not t’other way round…. Of course , s’no problem, how much ya need? Well …. Now, Joe’s out there himself, Jerry’s gonna square the wire first thing tomarra —— well, now, that’s more like it… I miss you too… whatcha you wearin’? Ohhhhhh you little minx, I oughta—” 

Becky felt sick to her stomach. It had only been a few minutes since that warm voice had been murmuring honeyed words into her neck. Her hand shook as she slunk over to the bedroom, and shed a few tears in the bathroom, then slapped herself in the face. 

“Shut up you big baby. You’ve been giddy as a school girl since you got here. You are just here to have fun. If you’re blue, well, that’s what you get for eavesdropping. People just having fun and enjoying free love don’t sneak around eavesdropping. It’s like Ida said, just enjoy the fucking experience… don’t get too deep, don’t take anything on...” She forced a smile. “Shepard’s pie. That’s what Charlie said. You’re comfort food... he doesn’t like one night stands, he likes to fool around for a set period of time. Maybe he’s your shepard’s pie too. Who are you kidding? You might be his comfort food, but Elvis fucking Presley is filet mignon to you, Rebecca Grace Hoffman. No one knows that name. Because you’re a nobody. Are you gonna ruin this trip by nagging him about other women? Or sleeping pills? No. Just. be. fun. Becky.”

The cold marble of the bathroom sink transferred from her hand to her cheek as she slapped her self again. “OK. Fun Becky.”  She nodded at herself and felt a little better after she washed her face and fixed her make-up. Taking a deep breathe, Becky shivered in the chill of Elvis’ bathroom. “Shake it off, baby…” she repeated to herself, rolling her shoulders and wiggling out her arms. As she walked downstairs, she told her self that if she felt uncomfortable, she could get a cab to the Greyhound station tomorrow,  or, worst case scenario, call her sister. This calmed her down, and Becky looked at her reflection one last time in the foyer mirror and smiled, happy with how she looked. Content with her decision to make no decisions and ready to enjoy the rest of the night if it killed her.

She instantly felt better when she peeked into the den and saw Charlie’s friendly face waving her in. The the woodsy decor, low lighting and water fall created a soothing atmosphere. Charlie was strumming a guitar while Billy got up to grab beer from the bar downstairs, an offer which Becky responded to almost too eagerly as she slide into the sofa next to Charlie. She nodded at Jo sitting on the floor against Billy’s chair. The women spoke for a little, Becky asked about the kids playing cards at the back of the room while Charlie played the melody for the Gordon Lightfoot hit “Sundown” on the guitar. Billy came back up with cold bottles for everyone, and the cool sour bubbles refreshed Becky while she struck up a conversation with Charlie. 

“Hey Decatur.” She said, smoothing her lap and crossing her legs. 

Charlie was now strumming chords aimlessly on his  guitar, a shy grin curled at the corner of his mouth. “Hey yerself, Birmingham.”

*************************************************************

The chords from George Jones’ and Tammy Wynette’s hit duet “Something to Brag About” met Elvis’ ears as he thumped downstairs, and he stood at the entry of the den noting the five empty beers on the coffee table. He watched Becky take a sip from her beer bottle as Charlie played guitar and sang the duet’s male part.

But I've got something to brag about 

Something to brag about 

Something to brag about in you

Becky closed her eyes as she sang out Tammy’s verse vigorously to the green carpet above her head, the deep emotion in her voice warmed Elvis entire body and he watched her with the keen eye of a voyeur. He felt the prickle of desire buzz along the back of his neck as he gazed at her sing and bounce on the sofa. The curls on top of her head seemingly had a life of their own, animated by the intensity of her delivery.  He liked power he felt watching her from doorway, knowing she had no idea he was there, knowing she wasn’t responding or performing for him. Just existing in the world as the free spirit that she was.

When you're with the fellas, I know 

You start braggin' 'bout 

My hour glass figure and my big brown eyes

Becky giggled, moving her hands suggestively over her body as she sang.

Then a you tell your girlfriends 'bout my 

Sweet, sweet lov—‘

Just as Charlie started to sing the word lovin’ he looked at the door and gulped, his hands froze while the last chord still reverberated throughout the den’s acoustics. He knew the power of that stare all too well, and the horror on his face showed his recognition.

Becky turned her head upside down, leaning back over the wooden serpent armrest,  that second beer had made her back impervious to the wood carving’s hard ridges. A goofy smile spread across her upside down lips.

“Heyyyyy daddy!”

Elvis stepped forward, towering above her. The waddle under his chin hung down as he tousled Becky’s hair from above, then pulled her dress strap up from her shoulder where it threatened to slip off and release her heaving bust. 

“Mmhmmm … hey baby…don’t let me interrupt y’all…” The edge in his tenor went over Becky’s head as she giggled, a dreamy look on her face as she blew a kiss up at him.

Leaning back as she was, Becky missed Charlie’s nervous glance at Billy, and she pulled herself up, slapping Charlie’s knee. “C’mon Decatur, where were we.”

“Ummm, uh… I uh, forget how it goes on from here…” Charlie coughed out.

Elvis staggered around the sofa behind Charlie, leaning down on his hands at the back of the couch. “Hmmm….. maybe it’s time ta let a professional take over…?”

Becky guffawed, slamming down her beer on the coffee table and raised her hands out for the guitar. “Professional skunk, more like. Don’t let him bully ya that way, Charlie… I can play if you... if you forget how it goes from here….” Charlie shot Becky a weak grin, and leaned over to hand her the guitar as he shakily stood up.

“Thanks darlin, but uhhh, need to use the John anyhow… y’all go on with out me….” Charlie twisted to look over his shoulder as Elvis plopped down in one of the large arm chairs across from the sofa. 

Billy sat in the other large armchair, his face was blank and inscrutable to Becky as he nodded at his cousin, and squeezed Jo’s shoulder below him.

Becky looked down at her hands, finding the chords on the neck of the guitar, then smiling at the others as she strummed lightly. Her voice was solemn and sad as it lifted up into “The Night They Drove Old Dixie Old,” pausing at the chorus to yell out, “C’mon on y’all, sing it with me….” 

The night they drove old Dixie down 

And the bells were ringing 

The night they drove old Dixie down 

And the people were singing 

They went, "Na, na, la, na, na, la"

Jo joined in exuberantly, and elbowed Billy into singing. Elvis grinned, he did not sing during this song, but rather, leaned back and watched Becky intently. After a few minutes, he pulled out a cigarillo and looked expectantly at Billy, who paused his contribution to the next chorus’ “na na nas” in order to hastily jump up and light Elvis’ cigar.

Becky laid the guitar down on the couch next to her when she finished singing and stood slowly, throwing her hips back and forth as she paraded around the coffee table to sit on Elvis’ lap. He looked up at her, blowing his cigar smoke to the side.

“Dontcha know… that’s a man’s song?”

“Hmmm…” Becky purred as Elvis belly bounced into her and she leaned into his face, her fingers edging around Elvis’ cigar to pull it out of his grasp to her own lips. A sly smile emerged on her lips as spoke. “Oh ya know…. I like…” she sucked on the sweet, woodsy smoke from his cigar, exhaling as she finished her thought. “Men’s things….”

Elvis pulled his cigar back from her fingers, his lips hovered below her chin. “Already know that…” 

Becky leaned her forehead down against Elvis’, his left hand jiggled her closer and he chuckled up into her mouth, his eyes danced behind his sunglasses.

“You know, you have a sad melancholy in that voice a yourn….” He murmured just to her, pulling Becky in the warm enclosure of his arms, a world where only the two of them existed and they spoke to each other in hushed, intimate voices as if no one was around. Here there were no external problems, no girlfriends, no downers, no children, no 200 miles stretching out between their houses. The only barriers were the clothes they wore and the space between their bodies. Billy and Jo looked at each other and shrugged awkwardly.  

Becky didn’t notice. 

“You don’t like my voice?” she stammered, her lower lip trembling.

Elvis brushed his lips over her chin, closing his eyes as he tilted his forehead into her nose and growled into her breasts below. “Honey… I don’t like your voice……” he paused for effect, his left hand grabbing the back of her hair, loosening the bobby pins that held it up with the force of his fingers. His jowls vibrated as he intoned, deeply. “I loooove your voice…..”

Charlie coughed as he walked back in, and picked up the guitar to put it back with its stand against the wall. Elvis’ eyes shifted, momentarily brought out of his trance, but he left his head resting against Becky’s chin.

“Hand that over here, son…. nah, give it to Becky … yoar a better gee tar player than I am any how…”

“Liar…you just lazy and wanna smoke that cigar...”

“Shut your mouth and get to playin’,” he blew his cigar smoke in her face.

“You still ain’t the boss a me… ”

His left hand lowered down to slap her side. “Hesh woman… c’mon, what are we singing…”

Becky grinned, and played the opening bars twice as she asked, “You know this one?”

“Ohhhh baby, I had that stuck in my head since the first night I met ya….” Elvis confessed, stubbing out his cigar in the green glass ashtray stand next to his chair.

“Alright, I’ll count us off.. one, two three…”

Their voices roared together in unison as they sang the opening stanza of June and Johnny’s “Jackson…” Elvis’ face lifted up to Becky’s, her breasts bounced as she strummed and his left hand drummed out a fast rhythm on the bottom of the guitar from where it squeezed her waist. Her body rocked back and forth into his belly, relishing the way his low voice took the melody somewhere new for her, and she belted out a “HA!” as he sang this verse.

When I breeze into that city 

People gonna stoop and bow (hah) 

All them women gonna make me 

Teach 'em what they don't know how

Charlie looked at the others, his brows raised, and Billy shrugged again, his eyes conveyed a knowing weariness. Neither Becky nor Elvis noticed this exchange, their eyes were otherwise occupied, and Becky leaned her nose down to nuzzle Elvis’s as she breathed out the next verse into his face through simpering amusement. Her warm breath sent a lightening bolt across Elvis’ body, and the thump of her bottom against his tummy and worked to increase the humming of his skin, amplified further when he sang and his lungs expanded swelling up his belly into derriere even more.  Elvis kissed the top of Becky’s shoulder softly as she leaned into him, finishing her stanza.

Yeah, go to Jackson 

You big-talkin' man 

And I'll be waitin' in Jackson 

Behind my Jaypan Fan

Becky purred along as Elvis sang the last chorus, swaying back and forth over his lap, and his arms closed tight around her as they hummed the last few notes together. They stayed in the den for hours singing, long after Billy and Jo found their children and said goodnight, Charlie tottered after them with a farewell. Their voices joined in happy harmony, mingling in the air was they started, stopped, paused, laughed and crooned together the melodies for “I Saw The Light,” “Don’t Think Twice,” “The City of New Orleans,” “Louisiana Women, Mississippi Man,”  Elvis changed the words to Alabama woman in this last one, to which Becky responded with a chuckle, which made him laugh and they giggled into each other’s cuddles on the furry arm chair.

******************************************************

Becky lay back in Elvis’ bed, sniffing under the silk navy pajama top she had borrowed from him to sleep in. His monogrammed initials met her eyeline as she checked how her armpits smelled. After brushing her teeth, she had dusted herself with talc powder again, she was now covered in that old familiar Sweet Honesty scent by Avon. It was starting to grow on her.  The beside clock told her it was 3 a.m. Elvis had been in the bathroom for twenty minutes, what is taking him so long? She thought of what Jerry had told her, what’s so wrong with taking downers to sleep? If he has night terrors and insomnia? Yeah, so far she had watched them knock him out, but he had been fine otherwise. These thoughts were interrupted by the sound of something sliding across the tile in the bathroom, and Becky jumped up to check on it, only to be met by a swinging door and revelation of Elvis’ broad, dark silhouette. He swaggered towards her, taking her hands and waltzing her around, then dipping her back into the exposed silk sheets of her side of the bed.

“You ok? Thought maybe you stubbed your toe…” she mumbled up to him, his piercing dark blue stare made her chest ache. Lost in the deference Becky’s brown eyes offered up to him, Elvis hummed, savoring the way she turned her cheek into his knuckles as they roved up her face.

“Mmmm… what Twitchy?” His eyes narrowed, processing her question. “Oh, nah, just me stumblin’ ‘round tryin ta give myself a shot of B 12 … s’apart of my vitamin regimen, ya not the only one tryin’ to be healthy round here, miss veg a ma tarnation ..” Becky’s questioning face followed him as he rolled over on the bed and she cuddled into his chest once he joined her under the covers, half-sitting up pushed into the pillows. He took a ring off his pinky, the design was a wide platinum metal band that tapered off as it bent towards the back, in the center was a flower made of six large, glittering diamonds. Picking up Becky’s right hand from atop his chest, Elvis pushed the ring onto her finger, bending her hand up to watch the jewels catch the light. A gleeful grin bobbed his round, full chin and his eyes gleamed.

“Wannn ya ta have this….” Elvis dropped Becky’s hand, and began rubbing her belly, pushing up the silk button down top warming her skin.  

“Elvis…” Becky shook her head, and started to pull the ring off, readying her diatribe on how she didn’t want gifts.

“Honey don’t… “ Elvis palm glided over her soft, bare belly, pressing into its plush expanse as he trailed from side to side, smiling when he noticed these movements made her bust jiggle. “Now…. Can’t believe ya aint evvvva had sum un tell YOU that ya beautiful….” His speech started to slow as he spoke, each syllable seemed to get caught on the roof of his mouth. “Cuz you arrrre… so beautiful…. And beautiful people deserve beautiful things…. Help ya sparkle…. Help others seeee how beautiful you are…”

Becky could feel tears pooling behind her eyes at this declaration, unsure if she should protest. As if he read her thoughts, Elvis began to preemptively console her.

“Shhhhh…now shhhhh…. Let me do this…. I wanna give you deems … uh..” His eyelids fluttered closed, and a growl worked up his throat as waves of demerol warmed his chest and slowed his heart. “…. uh…” he jerked open his eyes, fighting to stay awake, his lips open and pouting like a baby. “Huh, what was I sayin, now…. oh yeah… it means somethin’ for me to give you deese things on account that you never had ‘em before… means more ta me…. knowing…. that I found you … gonna show the world how beautiful you are…” 

Becky shoved her face into his, and pelting a series of soft kisses across his cheeks as his eye lids began to droop down again, his hand still slowly tracing over her tummy,

“Gaawd, your skin is sooooo soffftt, like a baby’s….. wantcha ta be my baaBY…. I can be your daddy, ….an you can be my mommIEEE ….. and we can beeee each udder’s babies…..” His voice lilted in a higher tone, like a little boy musing about what he wanted to be when he grew up. His eyes completely closed, then struggled open, looking into her face.

“You’re sayin’ you want this to last more than a few days...” Becky thought of the other girlfriends in his life. It was one thing to spend the last week screwing around with a rockstar whose girlfriends, plural, knew or even condoned his polyamorous proclivities. It was another thing to join their sorority. “I’ don’t know if that——”

His jowls rippled as he shushed her, index finger softly held to her lips. “Jus thin ‘bouuutt it…. I know you a stubborn independent woman…. like ta make up your own daaaMN mind…. ya don havta decide now…. In fact, I don want ya ta, mean more if I earrrrn sit…. Stay here for a month, see how much you like me…. I know ya will… be my baaby, my little baby…..”

“Elvis,” Becky whispered. “I cannot stay here for a month…” She looked up from her position snuggling into the silk shirt over his hairy chest, and realized his eyelids had completely dropped down. A low, staggered breath forced out of his mouth. Becky hoped maybe he was so out of it on his sleeping pills that he would forget everything he just proposed. But as she noticed his breath decrease, she pushed in closer to him, her fingers softly skimming the hair across his forehead and rolling down his nose, just as did to put Ruth to bed. 

“Oy gavolt, daddy… what’s in those vitamins, hmm?” she yawned, then frowned, leaned her head on his chest to make sure it was lifting up and down with life, her own fatigue put off by the cold air and lifelessness of Elvis' body. Nuzzling further on to his chest, she thought of what Jerry had told her, and tried to stay awake, monitoring his breathing. Eventually she dozed off listening to the hum of the air conditioner.

*************************************************************

Monday, June 15th

12 p.m. Graceland Master Bedroom

The creak of the door woke Becky up, and she lay on the mattress trying to remember where she was and what she was doing. It must have been five am when she finally fell asleep, but she couldn’t tell what tie it was now because the room was still so dark and cold. The large padded black leather door was ajar, but Becky didn’t see anyone, and as her eyes adjusted to being open, she realized Elvis’ head was on her breasts, and his right hand was cupped over her pubic hair, settled at the apex of her legs between her thighs. I guess he still has some life in there somewhere while he sleeps. She smiled, only to jump up at the sound of a little voice from the side of the bed.

“Who the hell care you?”

Becky shrieked “Fucking cock—mucker...” She threw Elvis’ hand off her and pulled the red, satin bedspread over her legs and panties. Elvis barely stirred, his snores only increasiing as Becky rolled him off her. 

She took in the patch of dirty blonde hair propped up at the edge of the bed, and then sat up further, pushing back against the headboard and smiling at the little girl who stood before her with hands on her hips and a look of disgust on her face.

“Why… hello there. Sorry for yelling… you uh… ya startled me… I’m Becky, who are you?”

The girl looked her up and down with those the same blue eyes and sneered curling her lip as the man sleeping next to hear. She ignored Becky’s question, emphasizing the edge in her voice.

“Where’s Linda? Does she know you’re here…?”

Becky sucked in her breath as she tried to think how she was going to navigate this scenario. This was not what she had in mind when Elvis had invited her to come to Graceland and meet his daughter. She had pictured a sweet, coordinated meeting in a living room or foyer. After having been briefed on Lisa’s likes and dislikes, Elvis would fondly introduce them to each other and handle any of the hard questions about his choice of companionship. As she sat there flummoxed, loud footsteps stopped at the entrance to Elvis’ room and Lisa scurried to hide behind the door just before Aunt Delta’s grimace poked around it. She squinted at Becky, and somehow her frown seemed to deepen into the wrinkles at the side of her mouth.

“You seen that little she-devil?” Delta huffed.

Becky looked over at Lisa Marie behind the door, who was vigorously shaking her head.

“Nope! Why?”

“Ughhh, that little gal needs to come unpack her suitcases… if we don’t do it now, I’s reckon she won’t do it all. That boy just let’s her run wild.”

Becky nodded, although Delta seemed to be talking more to herself, muttering as she turned and pulled the door closed behind her. Becky rolled off the other side of the bed, pulled her jeans off the chair they hung over and stepped into them as she made her way around the bed to Lisa Marie.

“C’mon, she-devil, I’ll help you unpack…”

Lisa Marie crossed her arms. “Chores’ for suckers… Nancy’ll just do it for me when she gets here… you can’t tell me what to do… you’re not my mom… you’re not even Linda…”

Becky chuckled and shook her head, then looked back at Lisa Marie as she opened the famous sound proof double doors that didn’t seem to do anything to keep the rest of Graceland out.

“Thank god I ain’t yer mama…already got one daughter who doesn’t listen to me. Though I find in general I can’t make anyone ‘round here do anything they don’t have a mind to do themselves…” Becky looked over at Elvis’ body on the bed as she said this, then lowered herself on her legs so that she was eye-level with the little toe-haired firecracker. “But I am your guest here at Graceland… so if I like unpacking clothes, you have to let me do it…wouldn’t want to wake up your papa and tell him you aren’t being a good hostess?” She watched Lisa Marie hesitate. “Well, are you the lady of the house or not?”

Lisa Marie uncrossed her arms and sighed up into her bangs. “Sho nuff I am...daddy told me this is my house...an.. I'm... I’m gonna inherit it, have my babies here… s’the Presley legacy… so.. um yeah, I am THE lady of the house…. Ok, well if you wanna be a sucker and unpack my clothes, it's your funeral…”

The slight girl led Becky down the hall towards her bedroom, stopping in front of a glass showcase filled with award trophies below a banner reading “Miss Tennessee 1972.” Lisa Marie paused in front of the shelving and looked at Becky, her eyes rolling up and down Becky’s body in judgement as she announced: 

“These are Linda’s awards, she’s my daddy’s girlfriend… they’re gonna get married one day… she’s a real beauty queen. She’s teaching me ‘bout fashion, how to get into a sorority, which ones are the best ones….”

Becky swallowed, groaning internally. This kid knows exactly what she is doing, she took one look at you and already twigged that you don’t belong here with her daddy. She’s just trying to get a rise out of you, it’s almost sweet. Can’t be easy to be Elvis’ daughter. Breathing deeply, Becky pushed any idea of competition with Linda aside.

“Mhmmm, Linda certainly deserves these doesn’t she, I mean, she’s gorgeous.” She walked beside Lisa. “People always told me I had a nice sense of humor in high school…. You know what means, don’t ya?”

Lisa Marie shook her head. 

“S’nice way of telling me I wasn’t beauty queen material….”

Lisa Marie let out a loud laugh, the tried to hastily suppress her smile as she continued to lead Becky to her bedroom. Becky tried distracted Lisa, asking her what the best sorority was, how to join one, what college she wanted to go, what music she liked. As they talked, Becky soaked in the sheer excess of Lisa Marie’s bed room. There was a round faux fur canopy bed larger than Becky’s bed at home, and it had a stereo and mirrors in the top. There was also a big television, a jewelry case filled “with real diamonds,” Lisa Marie explained, and several large sets of drawers and a big armoire Becky opened the suitcases and started unpacking, pausing to ask for help with every piece of clothing she took out, while asking Lisa Marie about herself. 

“Hey where does this dress go?” Becky asked casually.

Lisa Marie took it with a huff, walking it to the closet, “In here, obviously,” the little girl said as she hung it, and Becky nodded, muttering how silly of her, then folded some tee shirts and skirts into piles.

“So Lisa Marie, what are you into?” Becky asked, handing the little blonde a bunch of rolled socks.

“Lisa… you can just call me Lisa.” Becky nodded at this. “Fast cars, karate, guns and hawwwt music.” Lisa said with a deep affect and an impish smirk

Becky laughed. “Really? Hmmmmmm sounds like someone else in this house… you forgot beauty queens…”

“True… I’m fixing to be a beauty queen ma’self… gonna do karate as my talent at pageants…that or target practice…”

Becky grinned and shook her head, fingers locking the clasps and holding up the empty suitcases with an eye brow arch. “You know, I’ve never even held a gun - you good at shooting?”

 A devilish expression energized Lisa’s face as she turned. “Wanna learn?”

Becky stood, wondering if she should shower and get Charlie or Mary or Jo to take her out to buy a bra and some more modest blouses as she looked at the pajama top over her jeans, mumbling in response. “Learn what, sweet girl?”

“How to shoot a gun a course…” Lisa began walked through a swinging door outside her bedroom, next to a second narrow staircase.

Becky glanced down its dark depths as she ambled behind Lisa, realizing she was being led into Elvis’ dressing room on their way back to the master suite. Becky followed slowly, frowned at the bags under her eyes as they walked through the master bedroom. Dressed, get dressed. Becky struggled, and she took a purple halter top out of her travel bag and slinked it on as Lisa Marie gasped from her position tip toeing over the dresser showcasing Elvis’ arsenal.

“Did you just flash me?” Lisa made a disgusted sound.

“We’re all girls here... sorry, didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable honey… I guess maybe I feel a little too comfortable….”

Lisa looked Becky up and down again. “You really are different from his other girlfriends…. Here, any preference ta which one do you like… oh wait, never mind, you already said you don’t know nothing bout guns, better let me do it ... I’m an expert.”

Becky walked over, clipping her dark brown curls in up, her lips pursed and her eyebrows knitted in concern. “What does your daddy say about you using his guns?”

“Ta never ever touch ‘em.” Lisa said as she gatheredd two pistols in her hands, the same way that Ruth would glance over and select Barbie dolls to play with. Lisaa tilted her head to the door, and Becky followed with a disturbed expression as Lisa led them out of the room, downstairs and out back to the smokehouse. She wondered if she should be doing this, but then again, several kids in Ruth’s class already had marksmanship awards. What did she know, did she want her first interaction with Elvis's daughter to be a power struggle?

***********************************************************

Becky’s barefoot feet wriggled further into the sawdust, and she inhaled deeply shutting her eyes. The pressure of the exploding bullet from the shaft of the colt 45 revolver caused Becky to jump back with a little scream. She looked up, there were no holes on the target sheet hanging at the end of the room. 

Lisa laughed, and came over. “You havta keep your eyes OPEN for starters.” She took aim with her gun, as Becky stepped back and watched her squint and stay perfectly still shooting a perfect bullseye. Lisa then turned with an elated gleeful smile, blowing over the top of the gun as her eyes met Becky’s.

Becky chuckled. “Wow… impressive… do you have a favorite gunslinger?”

Lisa turned and shot two more rounds, each one hitting the red center of the bullseye. “Dirty Harry.” She answered without skipping a beat, then flipping her hair back over her shoulder.

“Wow…. Have you seen that movie?”

“Only about a thousand times…. it’s one of my favorite movies….”

“Wow, well, what about a girl shooter? Have you seen Annie Get Your Gun?”

“Of course.” Lisa huffed, refilling the cartridge of her gun. “I even used to have a pink cowgirl vest just like Annie Oakley, ‘cept it’s too small for me now.”

“Well, if we had a sewing machine I could make a new one for you.”

Lisa looked up at Becky with an excited expression, and took her hand, dragging her out of the smokehouse. “Dodger has ‘un…. Let’s go find Charlie, we’ll get him to take us shopping…”

Becky’s bare feet stumbled over the grass and pebbles as Lisa’s hand took them towards the long white building at the back of the mansion. “Um, let’s not bother Charlie… he might have other things to do.”

Lisa’s face turned back to Becky as she rapped on the door, announcing with all earnestness. “Are you kidding? Charlie always does everything I say….”

Three hours later, Becky was sitting at a very large, heavy cumbersome metal Singer sewing machine that Charlie had lugged out from Minnie Mae’s room into the adjourning living room. Becky had given him an apologetic grin as he stumbled and told her that it “Really weren’t no trouble.” Her fingers pushed pink suede through the stitcher and she bit her lip in concentration as she controlled the lever with her foot. Lisa hovered over Becky, perched on the sofa attaching rhinestone beads to the fringe on the smaller vest Becky had already cut and sewn together with Lisa’s proportions. 

“You think this is really gonna fit him?” She said with excitement and Becky nodded, grinning at the thought of Elvis wearing a matching pink suede vest. Not as gaudy as those jumpsuits but in the same family, she thought. Lisa turned to grab another bead from the bowl of glimmering silver rhinestone beads.

Lisa jumped up and down, clapping her hands. “It’s SO perfect! They match…”

Jerry walked by and stuck his head in, a middle aged white lady behind him. “Hey honey - I set up the film reels of The Pink Panther for you down in the TV room like ya asked this mornin…”

Lisa’s eyes stayed fixed where she tied another silver bead on her vest fringe, then waving Jerry off. “Thanks Jerry, maybe later…. We’re busy… oh hi Tish…”  Lisa added, seeing the older woman. Jerry looked at Becky, bewildered, but didn’t inquire what they were doing, turning to escort Tish upstairs.

“Whose that?”

“Oh that’s jus daddy’s nurse… he has some back pain and digestible issues… she’ll start coming by to give him his medicine every day now that he’s home… she takes real good —— ok, is it done ?” Her voice trailed off as she watched Becky pull the large pink vest out of the machine.

"Not yet, I gotta slice the fringe and get some of this shiny beads on here…” Becky smacked her lips and squinted at the stitching. 

Lisa nodded, nothing another bead, heat feet dangling over the edge of the couch. “Say, where did you learn to do all this? Ya mama?”

Becky turned to Lisa, grabbing a bead as she worked on Elvis’ vest. A “Ha!” escaped her mouth at Lisa’s question.

“No, my mama  was busy being a lawyer…. Our nanny, Helga, taught me everything I know… and I try to teach it to my little girl, Ruthie…”

“You’re mama was a lawyer?” Lisa’s eyes were wide, and she paused her work.

“Yeah, everyone in my family is a lawyer… ‘cept my sister, she’s actually a judge up here in Memphis… I think she was the third lady judge in this town.. Maybe I'll see her while I’m here…” Not if I can help it, Becky thought.

“And you? You didn’t wanna be a lawyer?

Becky chortled. “No…. Not alll…. “

“Are you a working mom?”

“Oh honey, all moms are working moms…. We’re like CEOs of small businesses. And those businesses are you,” she said, poking her finger into Lisa’s belly and conjuring a playful squeal.

“OK, but do you work work?”

“Sorta … still trying to figure out what I wanna do when I grow up…. When I was in high school, I wanted to be a park ranger in the Great Smokies…. Sounds silly, huh?”

“Noooo…. What happened? Couldn’t you still do that?”

“What happened…. Oh what happened…. Well, I got real lucky, and the universe put baby Ruth in my arms…. Hard to be a park ranger with a baby strapped to my back…”

 “What would you do now if you could do anything? As a working working mom, I mean.”

“Well, I’m already a working working mom, I’ve kinda always had to be... I help my folks with their hardware store…. If I could do anything…. I guess I’d like to own something, a little book store, maybe sell records too, have a juice bar and a kitchen serving up vegetarian food, maybe I run it with a husband, a nice divorced man I meet one day back in Jackson, living out a Brady Bunch fantasy….”

Lisa patted Becky’s shoulder. “You can do anything you put your mind to, Becky. S’what my daddy always says. If you want to find a divorced man to own a juice bar with, I believe in you…. What’s a vegetarian?”

Becky giggled, putting down the vest after tying the last bead on. “Someone who doesn’t eat any meat.”

“Wait, so you really don’t eat any meat?”

“Mhmmm….”

“That’s ridiculous… how can you even have a complete meal?”

“I have my ways…they involve tofu, peanut butter or beans….”

Becky and Lisa stayed in the living room talking, as Becky explained some of the reasons she didn’t eat meat, asking Lisa if she would eat a horse or pet dog, and then why a cow or chicken was different. She looked at the large, ornate golden clock over the fireplace and realized it was 3:30. 

“Speaking of food, I’m honnnngry, haven’t had anything to eat all day.. y’all have peanut butter and jelly?”

Lisa smiled and jumped off her perch on the sofa, laying her vest over the larger one and waving for Becky to follow her. “I’ll do you one better, I’ll make you one of my famous peanut butter banana sandwiches.”

Just as she jogged into the foyer, a pair of large hands reached out and grabbed Lisa and lifted her over the shoulder of an Elvis shaped frame, pinching her sides.

“Ya mean my famous peanut butter banana sandwiches….” Elvis voice tumbled out with a chuckle as his daughter squealed in delight. “See ya met my friend here…” he added as he put his daughter down, his face aglow as he looked at Becky. This shifted to a look of displeasure when his eyes saw the dirt on her feet. 

“Honey, what’s with ya feet?” He tisked.

Lisa bumped into Elvis waist, pushing his arm around her shoulder as she giggled. “She’s been running ‘round outside without any shoes on…. And she flashed her big boobies at me getting dressed this morning…. AND she’s teaching me how ta be a vegetarian…”

Elvis left eye brow arched up high, looking from Lisa to Becky. “Oh reeALLLY…. Hmmm…. Looks like y'all been getting to know each other good..." He stepped over to Becky, hand around her waist, and whispered in her ear. "Honey, why don’t ya go wash up and put something nice on, maybe a little make-up?”

Becky frowned. “Think you can snap your fingers and I’ll —” 

Elvis walked her to the staircase, his hand rubbed her bare shoulders, his eyes melting away all the retorts forming in her mind as she took in the track suit he was wearing. His voice was soft but firm, “C’mon, go get presentable... want my daughter to see how beautiful ya are when I introduce ya…. Go on now.” He slapped her butt playfully as Becky turned, unable to stop her body from complying with his directions as her mind spun in a tizzy from the feel of his hands and the way his big blue eyes looked into hers with a mix of lust, admiration and smug bravado. Introduce me to your daughter my ass, I’ve spent the last six hours unpacking clothes, shooting guns, shopping and sewing with her.

But she thrilled with elation as she bounced toward the kitchen twenty minutes later, proud of the way she had done her make up and fixed herself after taking a quick rinse in the shower. Sweet Honesty was now her favorite perfume and she smelled her wrists backing into the kitchen’s swinging door,  gasping with delight at the sight of Lisa and Elvis in matching pink fringed vests. Lisa sat on the counter next to the sink, eating a sandwich, and called out with a full mouth. Her white Mary Jane shoes hit the cabinets below. “Becky! Lewk ift figs!!!” She pointed to her dad, and Elvis turned from the stove, running his hands over his vest.

“Jus what I been needed… a pink shiny vest… ! Gonna hafta keep ya round, I have a list of mending been tryin to get Delta to do for the last year.”

Becky curled her lips. “I won’t be darnin’ your socks, Presley…”

Elvis grabbed her hand and kissed her cheek with “Hesh… now, let me look at ya.” He twirled her around in the middle of the kitchen. “There she is…. now that’s better honey…  look, Goobernickle, the most beautiful girl in the world jus wandered in ta our kitchen, ain’t we lucky.” Lisa kicked him. “Sorry, how silly a me, second most beautiful gal in the world after that lil gal right there.” 

Becky blushed and Elvis kissed her hand, taking her to sit on the orange kitchen stool near the TV. Back at the stove, he flipped what looked like a grilled cheese sandwich out of the pan and onto a plate, cutting it in half and blowing on it as he brought it over.

“Get ready to have the most delicious thing in that mouth of yours since you got to Graceland…. I mean second most delicious…” Elvis stood in front of Becky, taking up a sandwich to feed her, chuckling at her horrified expression. Good, she got my innuendo, he thought, then looked back at Lisa who was obliviously chewing on the second half of her sandwich. “I meant after the corn bread you ate last night, whatcha think I meant? Crazy woman.”

Becky sighed, closing her eyes, her exhale a mix of exasperation and excitement as she opened her mouth to taste the sandwich Elvis guided in as he held her chin. 

She couldn’t help the instinctive reaction her body had to his voice, touch, and the way his eyes danced with impish joy at her unease. But Becky also found herself sickened by how weak she was, how her pussy tingled when she swallowed the salty, sweet goodness of the sandwich. Elvis thumbed along her jawline, much the same way he had when she had sucked his cock the previous day, and her eyes widened as she felt the buzzing energy of his touch caressing her face. She swatted him away and stifled the deep sensuous moan threatening to increase. Lisa Marie seemed unperturbed, jumping off the counter to get some milk from the fridge. Elvis chortled loudly at Becky’s angry stare and pushed another bite in her mouth. She rolled her eyes, then whimpered involuntarily at how the fried, buttery carby goodness hit the back of her throat. Becky had never been with anyone who pushed and pulled and blurred the boundaries between all the different aspects of her personality together at once.

Elvis winked.

“Tastes good, don’t it?”

********************************************************************

Read Chapter 5 Here

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[danieljreboot]

Friday Night Movie ... 'Elvis' with Austin Butler, Tom Hanks, and Kodi Smit-McPhee

Almost half a century after his untimely death on August 16, 1977, in Memphis, Tennessee, the dysfunctional relationship between Elvis Presley, The King of Rock 'n' Roll, and his long-time manager Colonel Tom Parker continues to stir controversy. To clear his name and set the record straight about his involvement with Elvis's rise to fame and career, a dying, penniless Parker awakens alone in a Las Vegas hospital room in 1997, with his mind filled with memories. As the colonel reminisces about their eventful, two-decade-long love/hate relationship, elements of Elvis Presley's story--from the singer's humble roots, Parker's first encounter with Presley in 1955, the influence of black music, country, gospel, and blues--unfold. On his deathbed, Tom Parker looks back on other pivotal landmarks of their career path, including Elvis's military service in West Germany, his focus on a new movie career, and the performer's marriage to Priscilla Presley. Of course, the former manager calls to mind Elvis Presley's return to live performances with the 1968 televised Christmas concert, Elvis: The Comeback Special (1968), the 5-year residency in the International Hotel, Las Vegas, and the last Nebraska concert on June 20, 1977, at the Pershing Municipal Auditorium, Lincoln. Elvis Presley rocked the stage in an unrivalled last performance on June 26, 1977, at the Market Square Arena in Indianapolis, only six weeks before his death.—Nick Riganas

My personal all-time favorite Elvis song ... chokes me up every.single.time ... "If I Can Dream" ...

🎶There must be lights burning brighter somewhere Got to be birds flying higher in a sky more blue If I can dream of a better land Where all my brothers walk hand in hand Tell me why, oh why, oh why can't my dream come true Oh, why

There must be peace and understanding sometime Strong winds of promise that will blow away the doubt and fear If I can dream of a warmer sun Where hope keeps shining on everyone Tell me why, oh why, oh why won't that sun appear

We're lost in a cloud with too much rain We're trapped in a world that's troubled with pain But as long as a man has the strength to dream He can redeem his soul and fly

Deep in my heart there's a trembling question Still I am sure that the answer, answer's gonna come somehow Out there in the dark, there's a beckoning candle, yeah And while I can think, while I can talk While I can stand, while I can walk While I can dream, please let my dream come true, oh

Right now, let it come true right now🎶

[ranaissingle]

Coffee or Tea pt.1

Part 2

Part 3

Masterlist

Summary: Coffee Shop AU where the reader goes to the same coffee shop often to read books, study, or just drink tea and stare at the walls lol. The reader notices Austin and chaos ensues Rating: M (nothing in this chapter but other things will come later)

Pairings: Austin Butler x fem!reader Word Count: 519

Warnings: age-gap (VERY CONSENSUAL THO) Authors Note: She is 21 so there WILL BE an age gap between her and Austin and that will be addressed throughout the story multiple times. If that’s not your cup of tea, feel free to click away. Also for the sake of this story, we are going to pretend that Elvis is available to watch online without pirating it haha. This fic will be multiple parts but I wouldn't call it a slow burn either. This is the first fanfic that I am posting so be nice to me plssssss.                                          

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 College was never enjoyable save for the afternoons that y/n spent in the embrace of a comfy chair and a mug of tea while she tackled her latest homework from her Organic Chemistry class. She always seemed to spend hours at the coffee shop pouring over anatomical diagrams and periodic tables. She occupied the same table so often that the staff became accustomed to her drink order and preference for pastries.

      So here y/n sat, at the same chair, with the same drink, and the same textbooks, studying just like she always did. And like clockwork, another person came to that same coffee shop just as often as y/n and he always noticed her in the corner of the store with a crinkle in her brow and a chewed-up pen in her mouth. Austin Butler was by all means a shy guy, so much so that even though he saw her every. single. time. he came in, he had not yet said a single word to her. Even though he desperately wanted to.

~ 5 months ago ~

      It was June. And it was hot. So hot in fact, that y/n simply could not take it any longer and decided to take haven inside Crazy Love Café. Despite the weather outside, y/n smiled at the familiar barista as she went up to the front desk.

" Hey y/n! The usual?"

" Yes please!" Her reply came swiftly as she denoted it with another small smile. She paid and sat at her usual spot with a book she planned to read as well as her computer.

" ORDER FOR Y/N. A MOROCCAN MINT TEA WITH SUGAR"

     She couldn't help the smile that graced her face as took a sip of her drink and settled down in the comfy chair to start watching her movie on her computer. The Elvis movie had come out last month and being an avid listener to said singer meant that y/n was required to view this film. So, y/n propped up her computer, opened the streaming website, and put the movie to play, unbeknownst to her, the very actor in the movie had also stumbled into the same coffee to avoid the scorching heat.

     He ordered his coffee and unknowingly sat quite close to the girl viewing his movie.

“ ORDER FOR AUSTIN. BLACK COFFEE!’

    Austin relaxed back into his chair with his coffee and phone resolving to scroll through social media to pass the time. Austin eyed the décor of the shop. It was a quant café with renaissance paintings framed in gold hanging from every wall. Plants scattered the floor as well as the walls and the windows seemed to reflect the sunlight into rainbows onto the wood floor. He followed the reflection of one such rainbow to the face of a girl.

woah

      The first thought that came to Austin’s mind was soft. She looked so very soft. His eyes strayed to her computer only to find her watching, his movie? She was watching.. his movie? Austin immediately faced forward before he was caught zoning out on a girl that was watching his movie.

~ To be Continued~

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Part 2 here!

Masterlist

Thank you for reading!!! The next part will be coming soon!!!

Edit: I am new to posting fanfiction on Tumblr, so if there are other authors out there who have tips or tricks for me, that would be absolutely amazing and I would literally worship the ground you walk on, haha.

[missmaywemeetagain]

you mentioned you love june and i'm curious how you feel about the other women in elvis' life? do you like priscilla and the relationship she had with him? and anita? linda? sheila? ginger?

Hello, dearest Nonnie! What a question! I think it's safe to give a huge disclaimer here that I am jealous of any woman who was loved by Elvis (lol), but for some reason, inexplicable or not, I find some of them delightful while others just rub me the wrong way. I will also say I can only imagine how insanely complicated, wonderful, and frustrating a relationship with that man could be and that all these women probably just did their best in the moment. My personal opinion is just that and is mainly based on my own ✨vibes.✨

And yes, it's no secret June is my favorite! I love her tenacity and spunk, how she didn't take a lot of shit, and while it breaks my heart, I respect the hell outta her for sticking to her values and letting him go when Elvis was being a dick and ignored her for months. Her book is beautifully written and such a great glimpse into a pivotal time in his life.

I also really like Kathy Westmoreland. I think spiritually and musically they connected on a wonderful level, and even though their affair didn't last super long, she was in his life longer than most women as a friend/colleague, and there is something telling and lovely about that. She was loyal to him until the very end and long after.

Shelia seems lovely and gave us some of the juiciest tidbits about him, and I'll always love her for that! 🤭 Their relationship was interesting, especially concerning how he seemed to play her against Linda and she didn't really give a care. I get the impression she just went with the flow, they enjoyed each other's company, and she knew it wasn't going to be long term. I like her.

Now the others...now keep in mind this is just my personal opinion, and I know others feel differently and that is totally fine! I'm not looking to war with anyone LOL.

Linda drives me bonkers as a person. Maybe it's the whole "beauty queen" mentality or her attitude on social media, but the woman is just not for me. Reading her book did give me more insight, and I really do think she and Elvis loved each other and that she was there for him during some really difficult times. But I just don't like her and hate how she seems to capitalize on her relationship with him to this day in a very "me me me!" manner. She's my least fave of them all.

In a similar matter, I find his relationship with Priscilla very complicated and her relationship to his legacy even more so. I don't fall staunchly into either the "hate" or "love" camps for her, but do take everything she says or does related to him with a grain of salt because she seems to drift back and forth in her stories in a way that suits her in the moment. I don't love how she constantly seems to ride the coattails of his legacy. I hate that she was so young when they met and how he seemed to be okay with that (but that's another discussion entirely), and I think her youth plays a huge role in why the relationship played out the way it did. While I think they had love for each other, I feel like that love was based on idealized images of the other and what they wanted them to be vs. who they really were. I'm sure I could wax on and on about them but I'm not going to do that here. I don't love her, and I don't hate her totally, either. But I one hundred percent don't buy the weird Camelot-esque picture Graceland, EPE, and she tries to sell about their relationship a lot of the time.

Now Ginger...poor Ginger gets a bad rap and don't think she deserves it in the least. There is no scenario in my mind where I think she could've "saved" him and I don't feel she was negligent or conspiratorial in any way. However, I do think she was young and in way over her head. She wanted to maintain some semblance of her normal life and Elvis was just not having that, and it caused some major dissonance. He was very much not in a good space and she got swept up in the madness. The stuff with her parents and the money is a bit suspicious, but I don't necessarily think that was on Ginger. I think she loved him (though maybe not quite the way he loved her?) and I absolutely feel devastated for her that she was the one who found him. Talk about traumatic. I also respect the hell out of her for waiting until her children were grown to write her book and that she is a defender of him and Lisa to this day.

I don't know a ton about Anita (I haven't read her book yet), but the vibe of them together just feels weird to me. I feel like he really led her on and get the impression he had a sort of idealized version of this "pretty little Southern Belle wife" that his mama approved of and then mama died and he went into the army and he clung to that image like crazy. Not to say they didn't love each other! But the chemistry doesn't quite hit for me and I think it got pretty toxic. (And I've listened to that recorded call between them too many times and her voice annoys me LOL.) But she put up with a LOT of shit (I mean they all did, tbh...). I'm a bit amazed she stuck it out as long as she did.

Of course, there are so many other women who were in his life and it would be a novel to talk about them all! One thing I always try to remind myself is all of them seemed to really love him and he cared about them, too, and no one can take that away from them. So even if I don't personally like some of them, they were still a fixture in his life and it matters. My opinion, in the scheme of things, means nothing! I also don't love ragging on women, especially when at the end of the day, I know nothing about what truly went on between those two people in their relationship. And god knows that man could be difficult, so I try not to fault any of them for his sometimes very shitty behavior.

Anyway, thank you for the question, Non, and I hope my answer wasn't too rambly! 💋 I do miss doing these asks!

[dreamingofep]

For the Heart

(Elvis/Austin!Elvis x reader)

Character/Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)

Requested: no not at all. This idea popped in my head at midnight the other night and couldn’t stop thinking about it.

Prompt: You are Elvis Presley’s latest girlfriend. You are a new actor in Hollywood and fall head over heels with him on set and your whirlwind romance begins. | [Fem!Reader ]

TW: Sexxx. Cussing, masturbation, fingering (f. receiving) teasing/tension, some spanking, dom!Elvis, unprotected p in v, cream pie, short time skips, inaccurate to Elvis timeline. Priscilla doesn't exist in this timeline.

Rating: Explicit/Mature (NSFW, 18+, so minors

Do NOT Interact)

| Word Count: 7.2k

A/N: Hi guys this is my first fic I’ve written in 8 years so I’m really nervous about it lol. But I really hope you do enjoy and like this story. Please feel free to comment and message me your thoughts I’d love the feedback! Sorry for any spelling mistakes or goofs.

April 1967

You were laying in bed wrapped up in blankets, staring a hole into the ceiling. Glancing over at the clock, you see it's 1:30 am and let out a sigh. You know you should be fast asleep by now but you’re restless tonight. Being alone in Elvis’ room when he wasn't here was always so lonely and made this mansion seem so much bigger than it actually was.

The scent of him lingered in the primary suite and surrounded you like a warm blanket. Even when he wasn’t here, you felt his presence in the halls and wished he was here by your side now. You were so accustomed to staying up late hours with how Elvis lived his everyday rock and roll lifestyle. Sleeping all day and partying all night was something your system got used to so when he wasn't around and was shooting his next movie in Hollywood, your body would just naturally stay up missing those nights.

*

It was June of 1965 and you just turned twenty-one a few days ago. That was the day, you broke the news to your parents that you were ready to move to California and pursue your dreams of being an actor. They were stubborn and uncompliant at first, stating all the obvious things like, “you don’t know anyone there!” and “it’s too dangerous for a girl like you!” But you were determined, you were ready for the next step in your life, you couldn’t stay here and rot away. You booked your one-way ticket to Los Angeles International Airport and kissed your parents goodbye and stepped on that plane and knew your life will never be the same.

You would write to your parents every day about how great things were going and how the first time you stepped off the plane, you really felt at home. It was hard for them to let you go and move so far away from home. They thought you would be a Colorado girl forever but you were enthralled by movies and the dazzling lights of Hollywood. You knew from a very early age that was where you belonged. So after graduating high school, you took acting lessons, singing lessons, and anything else to make yourself a dynamic artist. You worked at the local diner working 6 days a week and saved half your tips into a jar you labeled, “for the city of angels.”

You hadn’t had much luck at first and naturally, you felt discouraged. As a new actor in Hollywood, this place scared you. The competition is fierce and the beauty is unmatched.

But of course, just as you’re ready to give up, someone notices you and you book a job. At first, you were getting little magazine jobs, modeling in the background of pictures, or getting background roles on tv shows. Things were really looking up as you were booking more and more consistently and your happiness grew.

At the start of 1966, you are gaining momentum in your career and actually getting speaking roles in tv and film! You can’t believe this is your life and you’re starting to earn a living this way. A few weeks into January, you get a call from your manager, Alan, that you just got booked for a new exciting film but you had to be discreet.

“Well, that’s amazing Alan! Can’t you tell me what it’s for?! You can’t just tell me you have good news but can’t even tell me what it is! I promise not to say a word!” Your heart is racing with anticipation. Could this be my big break? Would this completely change my path?

That’s putting it mildly.

“Okay okay y/n, I’ll tell you but you just can’t say anything yet. So that audition you did a few weeks ago, about the race-car driver and the girls trying to marry him, you got the part of one of the girls and- ”

“Oh my gosh seriously?! No way! This is the biggest speaking role I’ve ever gotten oh my gosh Alan this is amazing! But wait, why do I have to keep this hush-hush?”

Alan laughs, amused by the excitement in your voice, “Well I was trying to get to that but you got excited. Alright, the big part of this is who the lead is… it’s Elvis Presley y/n. You’re going to be in a movie with the Elvis Presley in Spinout!”

You jump up from the sofa and start to scream. You could not believe what he was telling you! All that work and all the times you felt like giving up were worth it.

You had loved Elvis for as long as you could remember. Your father absolutely hated when you would blast his records in the living room. He thought he was a terrible influence and was going to ruin society. You would just laugh at your father and play it over and over again not caring. You loved this man’s voice and the way he moved… you had no idea what was happening to your body but it was like you were mesmerized by his hips and the way he would move on the stage.

The stern conversation you got with your parents when you decided to sneak into the living room to watch him on TV with Sinatra. They were repulsed by that boy on television and catching you of all people watching it was just unbelievable to them. But you couldn’t care less. You really liked it. His energy and charisma was contagious and you could never get enough of him. This man had a way of drawing people in like a moth to a flame, irresistible in every way.

You'll never forget your first day on set and you were racked with nerves just before meeting Elvis. You checked your hair and makeup a million times in the mirror before you heard the knock on your trailer door. You opened the door and all you could see were those sparkling cobalt eyes looking back into yours.

The energy he possessed was so undeniably attractive and you tried to fight it in every way but your heart and your body got in the way of all of that. He greets you with so much kindness and charm you want to faint.

“Hi dear, I'm Elvis Presley, it's a pleasure to meet you. Can't wait to work with you these next few months,” he says, placing a soft kiss on your cheek. You blush instantly and want to hide your face from him that this was the reaction he got out of you just from a ten second exchange! How the hell were you going to make it through your lines with him?!

He had the southern charm that made you smile whether you wanted to or not and showed so much kindness to everyone on set. But the way he would look at you in particular, was enough to make you a stuttering mess. Those deep blue eyes stared into yours and you knew you were doomed into falling in love with him.

He’d ask you to come and hang out with him in his dressing room between shots and just get to know you more. He made you feel calm, and at peace. He was a great listener and made you feel like he really cared about what you had to say.

That peace got placed on pause when his body touched yours. Whether it was a hug or when he put his hand on your thigh, your heart pounded in your ears and you couldn’t help but want him more than anything. He had so much sexual energy that you couldn't fight and he knew it. You weren’t oblivious that this was the man that millions of women fawned over and threw themselves at him any chance they got. He was no angel but it didn’t bother you too much. It came with the territory and knew there was nothing you could do about it.

In those alone moments, Elvis made you feel like the only girl on this planet and you just loved it. It was like a dance you two had. He’d touch your hand and you’d touch his hand back. He’d brush you hair off your face and you’d reach over and touch his perfect face, pretending he had a crumb on it or something. It never failed to send a thrill through you and you could tell he loved it when you would touch him so gently. The crew could tell he favored giving attention to you and would tease you about it. You would act as if you had no idea what they were talking about but you knew you two had an attraction for each other like nothing else you’ve ever experienced.

A month into you being on set with Elvis, one night in his dressing room, he pulls you in close and asks you to be his girlfriend. You smile the biggest smile you’ve ever made in your life and whisper yes. He pulls you into his arms and gives you this deep passionate kiss that makes you melt into him. You’ve never felt so happy.

*

Those beautiful memories of your lover snap you back to reality making you realize it's another night of being by yourself. What you would give to go back a year and revisit those moments together. A tinge of sadness strikes your heart but Elvis was almost done filming his latest picture. He’d be home in 5 days and you could not wait. It had been a long three months since you saw him and you missed him so much.

Being in his arms felt like home and you longed for that. He’d make a point to call you every night and tell you how the day went and ask you what you have been up to. He’d ask you what the latest auditions you’ve gotten and if you’ve booked anything on the horizon. You two would talk for hours, pouring each other's hearts out to one another and longing for the day you get to see one another.

Between juggling your schedule with acting and modeling gigs that would take you all over the country, you also have a boyfriend on the other side of the country filming his movies and trying your best to prioritize each other. It was really hard to have a perfectly balanced life. Not that you’d ever complain, but you knew this was not a normal relationship. You were dating Elvis Presley. The King of rock and roll. There was bound to be some difficulties.

You'd occasionally send him a polaroid of yourself in some scandalous lingerie and hope he wouldn't forget he has a girl at home waiting for him. You knew you were young and he may want someone else to fill that void in his heart but for the meantime, you tried not to think of that.

You missed his lips, and how soft and plump they felt on your skin. How large his hands felt when he was grabbing your hips forward to grind on his hard erection. You missed having your brains fucked out of you anytime you wanted and how he would cuddle you after drifting to a deep sleep together.

Getting up out of bed, you turn on the lamp and go to the sofa across the room and pick up some magazines that were left on the coffee table. You flipped through a fashion one but it couldn’t keep your attention so you went to grab another one. There on the front cover was Elvis’ gorgeous smile. You melt and just wish those gorgeous eyes were looking at yours in real life.

You flip through the page and start reading through the article about him about the latest project and the songs he's going to be recording for the picture. The picture they took for the feature made him look so good. You could swear his face was sculpted by the gods themselves. He was the most perfect-looking man you’ve ever seen and wanted him here, taking care of you in every way imaginable.

You lean back on the sofa and sighed, feeling so needy for his touch and his-

God, what a wreck you've become. You felt ridiculous needing a man this way but you couldn’t help it. This was the longest amount of time you two had spent away from each other and your body was so used to having him any time you wanted. He knew your body like the back of his hand and knew all the ways to get a rise out of you. Each time he would take you, it felt so passionate, so intense, you couldn’t believe that a man could make love to you like this.

The throbbing between your legs was starting to overshadow any logical thoughts. You lift your nightgown up just above your matching panties and start to think of how good Elvis’ hands would feel on you right now. Looking back at the magazine, his eyes burn into yours and your need for him takes over your whole body.

You gently start rubbing your clit over your panties and let out a sigh. Flashbacks from passionate nights that seemed like eons ago come back to you so clearly.

His sexy deep voice whispering in your ear telling you how much he loves you and all the things he wants to do to you. You roll your hips into your fingers putting more pressure on your clit and let out a soft moan. Your wetness starts to pool and your heartbeat starts to rise. “Elvis,” you moan out needing him more than anything right now. The idea of his cock deep in your pussy has you rolling your eyes back and makes you desperate for something inside you.

You push your panties to the side and feel how wet you’ve become and run your index finger up and down your folds. You keep spreading the wetness and you lean your head back ready to slip a finger inside yourself. You start to inch your finger in slowly when you hear a voice behind you.

“Well, hello darlin’.”

Elvis utters under his breath, just a few feet behind the sofa.

Oh shit.

You jump at the sound of his voice completely shocked he’d even be here. Even more embarrassed that he might have walked in on you touching yourself.

Your heart was beating through your chest and couldn't figure out what your next move would be. You quickly straighten out your nightgown and stand up and face him behind the couch.

The sly smile on his face makes you blush and you run around the sofa and jump up and hug him, wrapping your legs around his torso. The feeling of him wrapping you up in his arms and hugging you tight makes you the happiest you’ve felt in months.

He breaks the hug and looks at your face, taking you all in, “I’ve missed you, honey.” He presses his lips onto yours and you feel the passion seeping through. You grab him by the back of the back neck to deepen the kiss and your tongue starts to explore his mouth. You feel a smile start to form on his face.

“Well someone missed me,” he chuckles and sets you back down on the ground.

“Yes of course honey,” you laugh with him, slightly breathless. “I had no idea you were coming home so early! This is the best thing I could have imagined. I’ve missed you so much honey I can’t even begin to tell you.” You reach up and grab his face to give him another kiss, showing him how much you needed him. Elvis takes you by the hand to lead you around the sofa to sit down next to him.

You sit down and feel the wetness that has pooled down to your panties. You breathe in sharply and shift in your seat to not make it too noticeable how uncomfortable you were. Elvis sits next to you and puts his hand on your upper thigh. The coolness of his rings pressing into your soft flesh drives you mad.

He brushes your long blonde hair behind your ear and runs his hand over your back and rests it just above your ass.

“Whatcha been doing while I’ve been gone, baby? Have you been stayin’ good for me?” he looks deep into your eyes and you can’t look away. It’s like he knows every last thought you’ve been having over the last ten minutes. Your breathing starts to pick up again and you give him your best innocent eyes and reach up to touch his face.

“Oh, honey, of course I’ve been good for you. You’re all I’ve been thinking about though honey. Missing your beautiful face.”

“Mmm, me too doll me too. You’re all I think about too…” He trails off and plants a kiss right on your jawline making you take in a sharp breath. He inches his hand further up your thigh and scrunches the fabric of your gown up exposing your panties.

“Now, tell me hon, what were you doing just before I came in…” He puts another kiss on your neck this time, making you fall apart at the seams already. You're so touch deprived you can’t believe how easily you’re coming apart for him.

“Oh nothin’ baby, I was just r-reading some magazines and stuff… that’s all baby. I couldn't sleep. How was your flight over here? Was it ok?” You say, trying to change the subject quickly.

“Flight was fine baby. We can catch up later but right now, I’m just more curious about what you were doing with that magazine with my face on it.” He says slyly, raising his eyebrows at you.

“I was just reading the articles and going through the pictures and was about to try to head to bed again, that’s all dear.” You say trying to not maintain eye contact but his gaze is magnetic and you stay looking at him. You know he can see through your lie and the blood rushes to your face and your ears. His hand is still on your upper thigh and he starts to rub his thumb in slow circles, just inches from your panty line. You shift a bit, needing to move and desperate to make him drop the topic.

“Come on honey, let's go to bed. You must be exhausted after working so much and your long flight over here. What pajamas do you want to wear tonight I'll go grab them.” You start to get up on your feet but feel Elvis’ hands grab your hips, sitting you back down roughly.

He gives a slight chuckle and moves to sit on the edge of the coffee table and faces you.

“I know you’re lying to me, lil mama. Why do you want to lie to me?” He places both of his hands on the top of your thighs and waits for your answer. Slowly he moves his hands to the inner parts of your legs and applies pressure with his thumbs just inches away from your core.

“Honey… no please I’m so embarrassed. I don’t want you to know what I was doing. I have not been good for you.” You whine, leaning in to kiss him again but he leans back and turns his face away from you.

“Uhuh honey, no lyin’ to me,” he says and spreads your legs apart for him. You freeze, so overwhelmed by his bold move. He has never called you out like this and your whole body is on edge. “I know you’ve been lying to me. I saw your head leaned back, fingers in your panties wishing it was me teasing you instead. I just know you’ve been wanting my cock so bad and can’t help touching yourself over the thought.”

“Please baby… stop I can’t… I’m sorry.” You say grabbing onto his hands wanting him to move his hands up higher to touch your throbbing core. He doesn’t move though. He sees what you’re trying to do and is more stubborn than anyone else on this earth. He always gets what he wants and he knows it.

“No, you don’t get to move my hands or have any other part of me until you tell me exactly what you were wanting before I walked in here. You need to show me exactly what you need.” All you can do is shake your head no.

“That’s not the answer I wanted,” he growls in your ear and lifts your night gown off your body. He hooks his finger on the sides of your panties and tears them off your hips leaving you completely exposed. You don’t move. He has never done anything like this and the possessiveness is rolling off of him in heat waves and consuming you whole.

He grabs you by the ankles, bends your legs up, and plants your feet on the sofa spreading you wide. Your heart is pounding and you can’t control the gasps that are coming out of you. He continues to look at you like he can devour you whole and has a tight grip on your ankles, his rings digging into your skin.

”So, you want to be difficult and stubborn hmm? Then I’ll just leave this pussy throbbing and needy for me. I’m not giving in until you show me, honey.” You can’t help but moan in frustration and you want him to help you get what you need. The release you've been craving for months, the one that has been keeping you up at night was ready to explode. And now that he’s here in front of you, you are desperate.

“Baby, please I need you so bad. I want your hands all over me and making me feel so good. I was thinking about all the times you’ve made me cum all over that cock and how you are the only man that can fuck me right. I’ve needed you for months now,” Your hand slowly makes its way to that bundle of nerves, and the feeling of how wet you’ve gotten drives you crazy.

Elvis’ eyes are locked onto you slowly rubbing circles on your clit and moany breaths are slipping out of your lips as you are thankful for the friction and needing some release.

“Mmm yes, honey I like that. Keep touching yourself. Tell me what else you need from me. I promise I’ll give it to you but I need to see it first.” He tightens the grip on your ankles and leans in closer, getting a better look at your dripping cunt.

“Goddamn baby, you are so fucking wet. I could just eat all that cream that’s coming out of you. You look absolutely delicious.” He lets out a sigh and you pick up the pace of your fingers on your clit. The sound of how wet you are is driving him over the edge and you see his dick twitch.

“God Elvis please I need all of you inside me. I want to feel you shoot your hot load deep inside of me. I have been thinkin’ about it for weeks and weeks. Please baby don’t make me beg anymore.” You say moaning louder and louder. He’s still not budging and know your words just aren't going to do the trick.

Slight anxiety runs through you as you've never done this in front of him. Taking a deep breath in, you decide to slip your middle finger inside yourself and throw your head back with the feeling of getting something inside you. It’s not quite as satisfying as what you really need but it helps take care of that need.

You hear Elvis moan, watching you intently. This reaction out of him just makes you pump your finger in and out of yourself at a steady pace. The wet squelching sounds come out of your pussy louder the faster you go. You start to whine and your eyes open, drifting to examine all of Elvis’ reactions to you.

His breathing becomes labored and starts to moan out “oh fuck,” the more you finger yourself. Your eyes continue looking down at him and look at how good he looks in his button up shirt, chest exposed, tailored slacks and down to the blue argyle socks on his feet. The buttons being undone to the middle of his torso made him look irresistible. This bold fashion choice makes you want him so much more. The slightest thing he does or depending on what he’s wearing can make him drip in sexual charisma and it was your weakness. Your eyes go lower and see the erection forming in his pants. Biting your bottom lip, you want him more than ever. It always shocked you how big he really was. It had been a while since you saw him naked and your eyes couldn’t help but stare at how thick and long he was.

You kept staring at that perfect cock and slip a second finger inside you, curling them inside and moan louder loving how it feels.

“E-Elvis, please baby I’m begging you. I need that hard cock inside me. Please, honey, I need you to feel how tight I am for you.” A moan comes out of you that is full of frustration and need.

You can’t keep this going for long because your coil is about to snap. A few more pumps from your fingers and you cum all over your fingers and watch as milky cum pools on the sofa. You gasp for air and feel your pussy clenching your fingers. Elvis can’t tear his eyes off of you, mesmerized by how your pussy is clenching around your fingers. He pulls your fingers out of you and picks you up and throws you over his shoulder. He starts walking over to the bed in long, quick strides.

“Woah, honey! What are you doing?! Put me down!” you scream not knowing what he has in store. His hand smacks your ass hard, sending a shock through your entire body.

“This is for being so difficult and stubborn you naughty girl. I could have been inside you ten minutes ago. Could have been cumming around me instead of your little fingers.”

He goes for another spank and this time a moan slips out and he throws you on the bed, your hands catching the fall. You’re left on you hands and knees and feel Elvis’ arm wrap around your torso, stilling you.

Leaning over and pushing away the hair that has fallen in your face, Elvis’ whole presence is commanding the room and you don’t dare to move.

“Tell me mama, are you going to be good for me or going to continue to be a bad girl?” He rubs your ass slowly waiting for the answer.

You turn your head, looking at him over your shoulder, “I’ll be good baby I swear,” you pant, waiting anxiously for his next move.

Elvis spanks you again and flips you over in one swift motion. “Mmm, good girl. Now honey, how hard was that? Telling me exactly what you wanted.” His hands trail across your face, drifting further down to your chest and squeezing your breasts. You let out a muffled moan, still waiting to see what he was going to do next. His eyes make their way to your leaking cunt and grunts when his thumb makes contact with your wet throbbing clit. “God, you were so sexy ‘bout to lose my goddamn mind watching you do that to yourself. And all over the sight of me?”

He gets up off the bed and takes off his shirt and throws it on the floor. He’s standing tall, looking absolutely gorgeous at the end of the bed all sun kissed from the California sun. He looks down at his crotch then back up to you. Examining you like prey laid out on the bed.

“Look what you’ve done to me, honey. Made this cock so hard and hungry for you. Are you ready for me? Ready to make you mine again?”

You sit up and continue to look at his erection. You have no words and all you can do is nod.

Unbuttoning his pants, you slowly pull his zipper down. Grabbing the sides of his pants by the waistband, you slip his pants off his hips and watch his cock spring free. A moan comes out of you and can’t help but touch him. The veins protruding on his shaft and how red his tip was, was driving you mad.

“Oh fuck,” you moan, thinking Elvis can't hear you.

“You like what you see honey? See what you've done to me?”

“Mmhm, I should do it more often,” you say coyly and place your hand around his shaft. He looked huge in your small hand and your body shakes in anticipation.

You like the feeling of how warm it is in your palm and want to lick up the precum that is leaking out of his tip. You slowly pull his foreskin back and rub his head, spreading the warm liquid all over him and start to jerk him off slowly. He throws his head back with a sigh and moans the more you move your hand along.

Suddenly, he grabs a fist full of your hair and pulls your head back and arches your body towards him at the edge of the bed. His cock resting between your breasts, his heat burning into your chest. His eyes are so full of lust and power, there’s no way you can resist him.

“Oh, lil mama I’m gonna make you cum over and over for me. I’ve been needing you so bad. Been waking up in the middle of the night with my cock so hard wishing I could put it in this perfect pussy of yours.”

You start begging and clawing at his arms to give you the attention you need. He lets go of your hair and lays you back down on the bed. Picking you up by your hips, Elvis pulls your body to the edge of the bed and rests his cock on top of you stomach. He takes his left hand and grabs both of your wrists and raises them above your head. You’re completely at his mercy and can’t move with how strong he is. Slowly, he starts to jerk himself with his other hand, rubbing the tip of his cock up and down your folds, putting more pressure on your clit knowing how it sends you over the edge.

“Are you ready for me lil’ mama? Hmm? Ready to be a good girl for me and take this dick?” he moans, teasing your entrance with just the tip.

“E… please I can’t wait any longer. Please fuck me,” you whine with no ounce of control left in your system.

He lines himself up with you again and slowly pushes himself in you.

The feeling of him stretching you is so overwhelming and you try to claw at the blankets underneath you, needing to release this pain but pleasure that is building up inside of you.

His eyebrow furrows and his mouth makes a delicious O shape and lets out a deep guttural moan. “Goddamn it baby you’re so tight, squeezing me so hard already. It's been too long since I fucked you,” he leans down and kisses you roughly on the mouth.

Your entire body is shuttering from the sensations you are feeling. You want more of him but know your body just isn’t ready for it and Elvis knows to take it slow with you. He pulls out of you and shoves two fingers inside you, curling them and hitting that spot that only he can. You feel like you can cum again but you do everything to try and wait to have him feel it when he's inside of you. He continues to pump his fingers in and out of you making you even wetter than you ever thought you could become.

“Mmm yes, baby you’re almost ready for me. You feel so good,” he praises and proceeds to slip in a third finger inside your dripping cunt.

You moan out in ecstasy and start to grind yourself into his fingers, his rings hitting your clit every time you move your hips down to meet the rhythm he has made. He starts to show that crooked smile you love so much and you look down to see his throbbing cock, the tip glistening with your juices.

“Get back inside me baby, please I need it,” you say as you lean your head back in the blankets arching your back slightly showing him how bad you need this. Without warning, he pulls his fingers out of you and enters you once again. This time he does side in easier but is still very taught around his girth.

Elvis’ moans fill the suite followed by expletives muttered under his breath. The look in his eyes was pure fire. He could never get enough of you and how you took him so well. He starts to move his hips more, testing out the waters to see what you wanted the most tonight. He puts his free hand underneath the small of your back lifting you up making you arch a bit. Taking on this new angle, it sends you to the heavens. Just when you think that’s as good as it can possibly feel, he bottoms out and fills you completely. He doesn’t move for a while, letting your body adjust to his size. The rhythm he sets is achingly slow but you relish of how great it feels.

He kisses you deeply and moves his mouth to your breasts. He starts sucking on the sides of them knowing how sensitive they can be in those spots. As he continues to suckle welts into your breasts, he starts to move in and out of your pussy with a steadier tempo. With how much stimulation you are receiving, you can’t hold back the moans and the screams that are coming out of your mouth.

Elvis gives your breasts one final suck and pulls away from your upper body and proceeds to fuck you, leaning back a bit as he watches how your pussy consumes his cock whole.

“God baby you look so good. Taking my cock so well even after all this time,” he teases and lifts both of your legs onto his shoulders.

“How does this feel honey? Do you like it when I rearrange your guts? Making this pussy cum all over me hmm?” He moves his hips with more vigor and is hitting your G spot every single time. You groan out in pleasure, needing more time to get more adjusted to the position but love how deep he is. He’s relentless. He keeps pounding into you harder and harder watching you fall apart at the seams.

“Elvis! E-E-Elvis I’m so close oh god please,” you beg over and over like he’s your saving grace. A few more thrusts and you were seeing stars behind your eyelids. You scream his name over and over, unable to control your body or your mind. He tries to keep this pace but your pussy was squeezing him so tight he was starting to lose control and loved how you felt around his cock. You continue to squeeze him, unable to think clearly about anything else.

“Oh fuck yes honey keep cumming all over me. I don’t want you to stop,” he groans over you. The sound of him and his words keep you on your high and you don’t want this to end. You feel completely out of your body and start to shake from so much stimulation.

He’s not done with you and you know it. Elvis squeezes your thighs with his massive hands and uses them as leverage and pounds into you faster, chasing his high you know is coming soon. “Honey, look at me. I want you to cum one more time before I do,” he pants looking down at you in a sexed out daze. You squeeze your eye shut tight, not knowing how much more you can take. You start to protest, “oh God honey I- I-I can't!”

He never takes no for an answer so you knew he wasn’t going to like hearing what you had to say. He only heard a challenge and he loved a challenge.

“Oh, I know you can baby. Fall apart for me again and then I’ll fill you to the brim with my cum.” He spits on his hand and slowly starts rubbing your clit in circles and you can feel the heat in your belly roar. You can’t even look at him anymore, your body feels so weak all you can do is wraith in pleasure on top of the bed, grabbing fistfuls of the covers each time he thrusts into you and rubs your swollen bud.

Elvis’ tempo is becoming more and more erratic and your coil is about to snap again. Applying more pressure to your clit you know that’s it and you see stars once again and it was somehow even more intense than the first one. You scream out once again and hear Elvis moan too.

But something feels different this time. Your orgasm continues but there is so much more pressure you feel in your stomach you don’t understand what is happening. Elvis continues to pound the shit out of you and before you know it, a warm liquid is shooting out of you, spraying the base of Elvis’ cock and his lower tummy.

You have no control over what’s happening. You keep screaming out and feel another large spray come out of you making Elvis growl and moan out your name. “Oh god yes y/n. God you feel so good.”

His hips begin to stutter and you watch as he leans his head back to the ceiling, “Aw hell mama, I’m gonna cum oh fuuuuckk,” he moans and you feel his cock twitch over and over again inside you. Feeling his thick cum spraying your walls and seeing him chase the high he's been waiting to get is the hottest thing you could ever witness. He places his hand up your throat, giving it a light squeeze as he slows his pace and his pulsating dick finally stops.

He pulls out of you, lets go of your wrists that he's been keeping in his grasp, and gets on top of your chest. Both of you breathing erratic and heavy. You are left breathless and completely fucked out of your mind. You have no idea what to say as you realize you have no idea what liquid just came out of you not once, but twice.

Holy shit what was that? Did I just pee on him? Oh god I’m so embarrassed… Could I have squirted? You had heard of stories of people having the most intense orgasm that they can squirt as a result of it. But you never thought you would be able to do it!

Elvis looks up at you, sweat dripping from his brow, and giving you the most sensual smile. You start to get self-conscious and don’t know what to say.

“Honey I- I-... I’m so sorry about that I have no clue what was happening I made you an absolute mess I'm sorry,” you trail off, not wanting to look at the reaction on his face.

He lets out a soft chuckle. “Oh woah woah honey no need to be upset. Why would I be mad at that?” he pulls you onto your side and holds you in your arms. “Baby, that was the hottest thing I have ever witnessed. God I could watch that for hours it was so good baby.” You look up at him with a sly smirk and can’t help but giggle. “Really baby? Didn’t make you wish you hadn't come home early?” Elvis smiles that’s boyish grin he always does and grabs you closer. Squeezing you by the ass and makes you look at him as he places his other hand on your jaw.

“Baby you squirting was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my life. And quite frankly, I’m gonna want to make you squirt like that again and again from here on out,” he says grabbing your face and planting a heated kiss on your lips. You knew he was telling the truth and all your insecurity was washed away. You break away and grab his face, “It was the most insane, intense feeling I have ever had, E. I had no clue I could even do that,” you exclaim and feel the smile expanding over your face.

“Me either honey,” he chuckles, “Just another way I can make you a huge mess for me,” he moans into your mouth, going in for another kiss.

“I missed you so much E. This was the greatest surprise I could have ever gotten.” You trail your hands up and down his chest, feeling the warm sweat linger there. This was the most passionate lovemaking you’ve had in ages and you feel like your high off of his dick.

“Come on honey, let's go downstairs and make you something to eat.” He pulls you up by the hand and gets you up off the bed.

“E, I’ve already eaten dinner hours ago. It’s 2:30 in the morning,” you say glancing over at the clock.

“ Well, darlin’...” He pulls you in close, pressing his body to yours feeling the heat roll off of him. “I hate to tell ya, but I am nowhere close to being finished with you. I have so many different ways I want to make you cum for me,” he says seductively, biting his lower lip sending an electric shock wave through your entire system.

“...fuck…” you whisper into his chest, your thoughts begin to race and your heart starts to hammer away in your chest.

“Well, in that case, I think I'll take one of your famous peanut butter, honey, and banana sandwiches you love so much.” you giggle softly and reach for another kiss.

“Coming right up, baby. I love you so much y/n.” He looks at you and takes you all in.

“I love you too E,” you whisper, hoping that all of this would never end.

He takes you by the hand and leads you to the door, wrapping your robe around your shoulders and helps you put your arms through. He puts his on too and you both sneak down stairs giggling like little school girls.

Sitting at the kitchen table, you take this moment in. Enjoying your little slice of heaven.

Tagging

@burninlovebutler @lindszeppelin @loving-elvis @succsessions

[hooked-on-elvis]

"HOT DOG"

"THE DAY ELVIS BLEW HIS TOP!"

Elvis' photo shoot for "Loving You" (Paramount 1957)

Elvis Presley: Loving You album, released in June 1957

Written by Jerry Leiber and Mike Stoller for Elvis' second movie score, "Hot Dog" was recorded at the Paramount Scoring Stage on mid-January 1957. According to Ernst Jorgensen in "Elvis Presley: A Life In Music", the song "lasted all of a minute and twelve seconds but took seventeen takes to record".

Recording it must have been tiring, but the hard work with this track wasn't over at the end of the recording session. It would follow to the filming of the movie (from January 21 to March 8, 1957).

(1) Elvis' during filming of "Loving You" (Early 1957). (2) Page from article for the Silver Screen magazine (1957)

HERE'S A LITTLE BIT OF HOW IT WAS FILMING THE COUNTRY FAIR SEQUENCE FOR "LOVING YOU" — THE "HOT DOG" PERFORMANCE — ACCORDING TO A 1957 MAGAZINE ARTICLE:

THE DAY ELVIS BLEW HIS TOP! When he's restrained by strict demand of movie-making, Elvis has got to explode somewhere, somehow - and explode he did! By Viola Swisher "Hot Dog!" That's how the lyrics go. Singing them, Elvis Presley spun into a forward lunge, one arm out-thrust, eyes afire. Hypnotized... hypnotizing. Hot dog? What did the words matter? Elvis exploded them as if some overwhelming earth force had hit him right in the heart. He hunched over to hug the sensation to himself. He swayed with the eternal rhythm of nature. Elvis was blazing through the action of his pre-recorded song "Hot Dog," featured in a country fair sequence of "Loving You," his new Hal Wallis picture for Paramount. Director [and co-writer] Hal Kanter called for a full rehearsal using about fifty extras bouncing and juggling to Presley's music at the fair. "All right" shouted an assistant. "Places, everybody." "Let's try it," Kanter nodded to the star. "Well, here's where I get censored," quietly commented Elvis in his understated, off-screen manner. But only a few alert ears caught the remark. He gave an experimental leg-quiver and looked at the director for an okay. Kanter shook his head in a pantomimed "no". What followed was a running series of dilutions, deletions and compromises for Elvis. Charles O'Curran, a top-rated dance director staging the routine, tried to make up some "typical Elvis Presley" action for the number. Only he kept getting nowhere. The more he struggled to gear the Presley-style to Hollywood's cameras, the more static and inhibited Elvis became. Things grew just a litle bit tense. Head lowered, the singer rolled his velvety eyes upward to level off at Charlie. Not a word exchanges. None was needed. Elvis remained quiet and courteous. No throwing his weight around. No acting big-big. Only his eyes making the polite plea: "Don't tell me how to do my stuff." Presley and O'Curran tried over and over again to get together on the routine. Elvis was aware of what he wanted, yet because it wasn't natural for him he couldn't get with it.

Excerpt from article on the Silver Screen magazine (1957 issue) , pg. 45.

More was written in this article about the filming of "Loving You", possibly something more about how the filming of the scene went on until the final result but I, unfortunately, haven't found the following pages online. I guess the most important story was told by this excerpt anyways. They got the scene. We know they did. I wonder tho how Charles O'Curran had imagined the number. What we see Elvis doing onscreen while singing "Hot Dog" is more Elvis acting like himself or something like Charles wanted him to look like?

Pictures of the outfit Elvis wore to perform "Hot Dog" and, below, the King performing the song in scene featured in his second movie, "Loving You" (1957).

Scene from movie "Loving You" (Paramount Pictures 1957), starring Elvis Presley, Lizabeth Scott and Wendell Corey. Directed by Hal Kanter. Screenplay by Herbert Baker and Hal Kanter. Story by Mary Agnes Thompson. Produced by Hal B. Wallis.

"HOT DOG" — LYRICS

Hot dog, you say you're really coming back Hot dog, I'm waiting at the railway track Hot dog, you say you're coming home for good Hot dog, I'm going to keep knocking on wood And baby, I can hardly wait I'm gonna meet you at the gate, hot dog I fell in love with you and then you went away But now you're coming home to stay Hot dog, soon everything will be all right Hot dog, we're gonna have a ball tonight I've got a pocketful of dimes It's gonna be just like old times, hot dog You went away and every day was misery But now you're coming back to me Hot dog, my heart is gonna go insane Hot dog, when you come walking off the train Oh how lonely I have been But when that Santa Fe pulls in Hot dog, baby, baby, hot dog

Lyrics by Jerry Leiber/Mike Stoller

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FURTHER INFO - WHAT DOES 'HOT DOG' MEAN?

I'm not American, and that's why I don't get slangs in English right away (and that's also why you'll find typos in my writing, sorry 'bout that). So, until this very moment, I never understood why the song was entitled "Hot Dog". I found it so silly... I thought about the food, not gonna lie, but I just googled the word and, in slang, it seems 'hot dog' can mean someone who's dangerous, a daredevil or something. So, the poetic persona in the song is calling out the lady for leaving him for a while. I guess that's it. Probably many already got it from the start (and if I got it wrong, please, correct me) but this note is here just in case someone needs an explanation. Oh, I also found an article about the meanings of "hot dog" as a slang, over the years. It's really interesting. Like I say, Elvis is always directly or indirectly teaching me something. Read more about the meanings for 'hot dog' here: today.com/food/hot-dog-meanings.

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UPDATE - May 22, 2024: @thetaoofzoe and @lookingforrainbows helped us with this one. THANK YOU SO MUCH, BABIES. ♥ According to dear @thetaoofzoe, "I'm under the impression that 'hot dog' here means he's expressing delight or excitement about the girl coming back. Like a 'yay! I'm so excited'" and then I read @lookingforrainbows with: "hot dog in this case might mean ‘I’m so excited’. It was a saying in the 50s to mean something like ‘wow! that’s awesome’" -- There you go, friends! Solved!

[cokexdolly]

𝓌𝑒𝓁𝒸𝑜𝓂𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝓂𝓎 𝑔𝒾𝓇𝓁𝒷𝓁𝑜𝑔 !!

𝒶𝒷𝑜𝓊𝓉 𝓂𝑒 ⊹ ࣪ ˖

𝜗𝜚 my birthday is june 11th and I’m 18 !!

𝜗𝜚 channing tatum’s wife !!

𝜗𝜚 i love the color pink, older men, any and everything vintage, lana del rey, winter, reading and writing poetry, fawns, catholicism, the 1950s, emma roberts, cherry coke, scream queens, my bed, sylvia plath, calico critters, rain, the hero!n chic era, uggs, shopping, attention, subliminals, being alone, carnations, ruslana korshunova, and pretty jewelry

𝜗𝜚 music: lana del rey, jeff buckley, hole, nirvana, fiona apple, ricky nelson, deftones, the beatles, george harrison, the foo fighters, paul anka, frank sinatra, and elvis presley

𝜗𝜚 shows: scream queens, pretty little liars, insatiable, gossip girl, gilmore girls, american horror story, and skins

𝜗𝜚 movies: girl interrupted, the crush, lolita, black swan, the virgin suicides, lost in translation, almost famous, dazed and confused, buffalo 66’, and jennifers body

𝜗𝜚 celeb crushes: channing tatum, james franco, christian bale, al pacino, william zabka, ricky nelson, ralph macchio, angelina jolie, and young sofia coppola (especially when she was in the godfather 3)

[love-kurdt]

Swooping, Sloping, Cursive Letters: 33

word count: 557

PLEASE READ THIS IS ME TRYING FIRST, AS THIS STORY RELIES HEAVILY UPON THE CONTEXT OF TIMT

June 3, 1990

Dear Will,

Greetings from my new apartment! It’s a single bedroom, only a few miles away from campus. Even though my dad’s paying for the apartment, I figured I’d take at least some of the financial burden off of him by getting a job. I got an interview with a local coffee shop that I forgot the name of, and I’m slated to start next week.

Now that school’s out, I’ve been getting used to the concept of actual independence. I’ve never lived by myself before, not without my family or a roommate… or you. I think you’d like a few of my decor choices, and despise a few others. But fuck you, asshole, because you’re not even here to give your input. It’s not like I’d even want you here. I don’t need you. I’m living my best life. And if you want to know what I really mean by "best"… trust me, you don’t. So if you hear anything about me, it won’t be from the horse’s mouth.

I will, however, tell you that things went south with Elvis. I might have gotten blackout drunk and confessed my apparently romantic feelings for him. He moved out and we haven’t spoken since. I had expected to be a complete emotional wreck when Elvis left, but like… he wasn’t you. The pain was so little that I didn’t feel anything at all. And I don’t know if that’s a good or bad thing. I find myself contemplating that concept a lot these days. My decisions have not been… fantastic, as of late. For example, after I came to that realization that my appearance was comparable to that of fucking Gollum, I decided to make some changes. Well, one change, but it made a world of a difference.

You know how I said in my last letter that I usually need weed or alcohol to fall asleep? Well, my dumbass didn’t realize that mixing the two in large amounts like I had been was a recipe for disaster. The alcohol wasn't the problem; it was the weed in combination with the alcohol that made it impossible to hold anything down. So I cut out weed. And ever since then, I’ve felt so much better. I’ve been able to eat more, so I look more like a human again. I can concentrate better while writing, which is kind of a must, considering I spend a majority of my time writing The Wanderer or letters to you.

And yeah, cutting weed out means that I’ve had to drink more to compensate for the effect weed would’ve had on me in order to sleep, but I think I can handle it. I’ll be okay. I promise. Wow, look at me, making promises to a figment of my imagination. Makes me sound almost religious. Is this how Christians feel whenever they promise God they won’t sin, but then immediately go and fuck it up once they leave the confession booth? I don’t know where this letter is going anymore; I might’ve had a few shots of whiskey somewhere in between “So I cut out weed,” and “The Wanderer or letters to you,” so I’m kind of out of it now.

But please know that I’m trying my best to stay alive right now. At least I’m trying.

Love,

Mike

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[maximumwobblerbanditdonut]

25 years of 'Notting Hill

The locations 25 years later, 1999 vs 2024. Some things can change while some things stay the same. From the glitzy halls of the Ritz to the bustling streets of Notting Hill. The emotions, the personality, the joy, the love, the passion, and the warmth of this story will live on through these streets forever.

“She", originally released by Charles Aznavour, was recorded by Elvis Costello for the 'Notting Hill' Soundtrack. This version of the song peaked at number 19 in the United Kingdom, giving Costello his first top 20 hit in the United Kingdom in 16 years.

🎥 @steppingthroughfilm

#She #ElvisCostello #TopOfThePops #1999 #LoveSongs #NottingHill #film #Soundtrack #CharlesAznavour #JuliaRoberts #HughGrant

Posted 13th June 2024