Summary: It's Halloween Weekend, 1955, and two seniors from New Orleans, Hortense and Joan, are dressed up in their costumes and heading to Ponchartrain Beach Amusement Park to for a night of fun. Turns out up and coming performer Elvis Presley is going to be on the main stage tonight, and he is making quite a splash with the locals.
WC: 3K
Warning: Minor blood and gore.
The first chapter of my three-part offering for Elvis-o-Ween 2024.
Happy reading...... if you dare!
No proofreading, no betas, honestly its the third attempt at something scary. But I just needed to get it out there before I lost my noirve, as the cowardly lion might say.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
For @whositmcwhatsit some vitamin E for you
Tagging some friends, please share, comment and reblog.
Let me know if you want to be tagged (or untagged) in the coming chapters....
I've inserted the sneak peak/1st part from last week into this to make it easier to locate and read, so if the first 1k reads as familiar that's why.
summary: it's autumn 1972, and Elvis' girl on the side, Laura (from All Revved Up), who is no longer the girl on the side -- has come to stay at Graceland. There's the Memphian, an attempt at a trip to the morgue, and Elvis in a sweater - oh, and smut.
wc: 7.6k
warnings: 18+, kissing, making out at the cinema, there's an argument with Red that results in a gun being drawn but doesn't go off, mentions of dead bodies, p in v sex. this could probably do with a ton of editing but i am fundamentally lazy.
the memphian scenes are totally inspired by @whositmcwhatsitâs The Gate Girl â I've avoided rereading the past couple of weeks to try and forget it but iâve read it upwards of 55 times and i think iâve absorbed it all into my brain as fact - and really, she does it much better than me so everyone (if you haven't) pls go and check it out.
October 19th 1972 Graceland.
Itâs quiet as Laura pads down the stairs, suspicious of the silence in the house - hoping that Elvis hadnât actually up and left her on her own. She hadnât bothered to get dressed, hoping to find him quickly and work out what she should wear today, and besides, it was early - knowing him theyâd end up back in bed soon. But she hadnât really anticipated having to go all the way downstairs before she could call to him. She wraps her arm around herself as she looks around, itâs the first time sheâs been cold at Graceland, really sheâs only been there a handful of times anyway - and last year in the colder months heâd had her over in Palm Springs. Sure, he kept his room at a frankly ridiculous temperature but under the warmth of his heavy comforter and arm she barely felt it. Now though it feels as though thereâs a cool breeze running through the house. The late summer having certainly given way to autumn, bronzed leaves starting to fall off the trees.
Elvis is nowhere to be found as she peeks around doorways and arches, and she wonders if she should give up and just wait for him to show up in the bedroom - but sheâs sure heâd have woken her up if he was leaving, so he must be around here somewhere. Sheâs grateful thereâs carpet in the kitchen for her bare toes when she creeps around the corner, the breeze suddenly stronger. The mystery is quickly solved; the door to the hallway flapping from the exterior door being left open. Laura huffs as she slams them shut, but it does at least explain where theyâve all gone (and why it was so breezy in the house). She looks down at herself, considering if she was prepared to venture out, but itâs just this side of too cold, and besides sheâs pretty sure Elvis would flip out at her parading outside in just her silk robe. She heads down to the den, intending on just getting a little glimpse before going to get changed.
She quickly spots some of the guys, as she peeks out of the glass, but theyâre all just a little too far to the side for her to see everyone. She leans against the windowsill to help her stretch to peer as far as she can out, tiptoes rubbing into the plush green carpet. A football comes flying and Joe comes running past, red-faced and struggling to breathe in an attempt to catch it. She canât help but giggle watching him as the collection of men come trotting around the corner to join him. Elvis at the end of the group, looking pleased with what had clearly been his throw. Laura leans as close as possible to the window, ducking her head under the little curtain, appreciating the look of him having fun. Heâs practically bouncing around outside, dressed casually in a way she hasnât really seen before - his velour zip-up looking particularly cosy. Heâs a little thicker than he was in the height of the summer and in Lauraâs opinion it looks good on him; sheâs a fan of how heâs styling his hair at the moment too - the slightly longer shaggy length of it that seems to look like heâs either just combed it into a gentle swoop or like heâs been rolling around on it. Both looks make her tummy flip if she looks at them for too long. Heâs foregone his tinted glasses, whether because it was overcast and therefore the light manageable to his eyes, or simply from fear of the football being thrown Laura didnât know. She could, however, just from looking at the set of his shoulders tell that for once he seemed untroubled. As calm as he could ever be, his carefree attitude was evident even from a distance. He spots her at the window after a couple more passes, his face lighting up as he jogged over to the window.
Even though Laura was watching him she still startles when he taps the glass, through the decorative metal, grinning at her. She beams back - thrilled at his happy face.
âHowâdâyou sleep honey?â He shouts at her, muffled but still audible, she giggles in response - shaking her head at his antics. Sheâs pretty sure sheâs somehow alone in the house, but she wasnât about to start shouting through a window at him. He folds his arms, leaning back to look her up and down, frowning suddenly and insistently tapping the glass again in mock outrage.
âGet dressed!â Laura shakes her head again, teasing him and watches as he signals something to the boys who all jog off to one side. Sheâs too distracted by all the movement to notice Elvis himself disappearing, until the door slams open. She stumbles, caught in the drape when she attempts to whirl herself around - but before she can right herself thereâs an arm suddenly wrapping around her middle, holding her tight and close. Despite the plush velour rubbing against her back, she can feel the chill on him; they must have been out there playing for a while already.
âJesus Elvis! Youâre freezing!â He shakes his head, laughing and shoving his cold nose into the crook of her neck, âElvis!â She tries to dance and wriggle out of his hold, but he has a surprisingly tight grip onto her.
âNot my fault Lor! Yâgotta get dressed, honey, catch yer death runninâ round like this!â He tugs her away from the window, bundling them towards the middle of the room.
âDidnât need - didnât need to before.â His hands brush up her sides and she squirms as he tickles her. ââFore someone kept shoving their nose places it didnât be-â Laura yelps when his nose makes another appearance, now with accompanying snuffle-snorting noises. â-long!â
âOh yes you do. Canât have you like this -â Elvis holds her with one arm, the other hand trailing down to brush across her bare thigh, large hand parting her robe and pushing up her nightgown. Laura involuntarily clenches her thighs and immediately feels his huff of laughter as he feels it. His voice lowering as he leans closer to her ear, the gentle vibration sending goose-pimples across her skin. âNot like this.â He flicks at the hem, now high enough to send a gust of air across the crease of her upper thigh, just the threat of exposure enough to make her gasp.
He smooths the fabric back down, mock outrage back in his voice; âAnyone could see you!â As if he wasnât the one exposing her. He prods his long fingers into her tummy, making her crunch in an attempt to squirm away from his tickling, giggling the whole time.
âNo, no!â She shrieks, âNo more! I give!â He stills his hands and between gulps of air she tells him, âIâll get dressed! I give.â
âYâbetter!â he growls against her ear, squeezing her tight to his torso for a long second before releasing her with a grunt. Self-satisfied smile on his face when he pulls her around to face him, her own rosy cheeks matching his. He flicks at the hem of her nightgown again, shaking his head at her.
âGo on then.â He turns her to the stairs, slapping her behind as she stumbles calling out to her as she heads up the stairs and back up to his bedroom âHurry! Want you to be my little cheerleader out there!â
So, Laura hurries. She gets ready as quickly as possible; dabbing on a little makeup and brushing her hair. Sheâs casually dressed when she heads back down towards the back door - jeans and a ribbed rollneck, fully expecting to change again later in the day. She grabs one of Elvisâ coats out of the coat closet on the way, wrapping herself in the thick fabric and liking how it fell past her knees - sheâd really not been prepared for this early fall chill, having brought with her light jackets and layers instead of anything with a focus on warmth. Elvis grins over at her, pretending to throw the ball at her when she finally exits the house, and she giggles back at him, standing to the side of their playing space,
âGimme a E!â She shouts at him, and he roars with laughter, shaking his head as he loudly tells the boys;
âOh, youâre in for it now! Got my little good luck charm out here, havenât I? Whereâs all your missusâ huh?â Jokingly shoving and jostling as they come in closer. The game continues - seemingly some sort of bastardised version of football wherein it was every man for himself, and Laura contented herself with watching from the sidelines, every now and again giving Elvis an encouraging cheer at what she hoped was a particularly decent run or pass. It was growing a little boring watching by herself and she wondered where all the other wives and girlfriends were, if theyâd had other plans or turned down an invitation to watch - or, as she hoped (despite her boredom) if sheâd been specially invited out to the boys-only impromptu game. But Elvis looked happy, practically beaming at her every time he ran close by and so she was more than happy to burrow into the lapels and collar of the large overcoat, enveloping herself in his scent while she watched on. Itâs only about ten minutes later that he runs past and pauses, hands outstretched,
âAw, Lor, baby, Iâm all chilled to my booones, you gotta warm me up âfore I freeze!â He tries to shove his cold hands up her sweater and she shrieks, dashing away from him -
âOh no you donât!â He pouts, arms crossed, and she shakes her head, âNot gonna work this time mister, youâve got icicles for hands, and you can keep them to yourself!â Elvis huff in a faux put upon manner, and calls the boys in;
âCâmon guys, Iâm gettinâ bored of kickinâ all your asses⌠and âm hungry - letâs go have somethinâ to eat and warm up a bit.â Laura goes where he nods towards the house, slowing to let him catch up with her and letting him curl his cold hands onto her warm stomach from behind as they walked in together.
Hours later, after the afternoon light had turned to darkness and theyâd spent the day fooling around in the house - if she didnât know better sheâd be wondering where all their energy was still coming from - Elvis was again calling for her to get dressed so they could leave for the Memphian.
âMaybe you wanna get changed sweetheart? You know, into, uh, just something, you know, honey, just, just a bit more, uh, flatteringâŚâ Heâd followed her up the stairs, and she found it hard to be annoyed at his disparaging comment towards her jeans when heâd playfully chased her into the bedroom. Laura shrieked and danced out of his hands, screeching when he got close enough to dig his fingers into the sensitive flesh just above her knee. She careened through the door and they both fell together once he tackled her when she was close enough to the bed.
They ended up rolling around on the bed for a moment, both laughing. She allows him to pepper her face with kisses, rolling on top of him to return the favour. He clings to her, unwilling to let her wiggle off of him even when she tries to lean back fearing she was squishing him. âElvis, youâve got to let me get offa you; I bet you can hardly breathe under me!â He rolls his eyes, flexing his forearms as he squeezed her even tighter to him,
âCanât breathe! Iâll show you canât breathe.â She can practically feel her ribs cracking and she yelps,
âElvis!â Elvis laughs, releasing her, making Laura relax on top of him, sinking against his body. She leans back to observe his face, running a gentle hand over his cheek, stroking the side of his intense eyes and trailing it down to trace his plush lips. He playfully nips at her finger, growling and she blushes at how the noise immediately sent her tummy into somersaults. She feels herself tingle at the sensation of his breath on her now damp finger, and her eyes slip closed for a long second. When they reopen heâs staring at her, mouth slightly open, eyes lidded and she no longer cares about being on top of him, his hands sliding down her sides to hold her as she bucks her hips, manoeuvring her to slip her legs on either side of one of his. She grinds down, tangling her fingertips into his sideburns as she captures his mouth again. Itâs delicate for one short moment before they both seem to sense an urgency in the situation and she suddenly feels like sheâs a willing victim being devoured, his tongue and teeth everywhere all at once. She pulls back to catch her breath, and he chases her lips even then, kissing the side of her mouth until she recaptures his. He ruts up against her once, twice, before stilling and rolling her to the side - Laura lays there panting,
âEl, whatâs? whatâs wrong?â She pauses, she doesnât want to embarrass him but she canât help but ask, âDid you - did you, uh, finish?â Elvis smiles a little bashfully, eyes crinkling at the sides as he shakes his head,
âNo, no, honey, no just, just gonna save myself - be better later if we just wait; Iâve got plans for you this evening, jus - just lemme hold off for the mo.ââ She nods, it makes sense, even if she impatiently wanted him now - and she whispers as much against his jaw.
âWant you all the time, want you in the morning, in the evening in the - god, Elvis, I just - I want to be here all the time, want you right now.â He rolls them so heâs leaning over her, caging her in with his arms and wrapping one of his legs between hers.
âYou got me darling, you got me - we just, I want to make it special, tonight - just, just cool it baby yeah? Gotta,â He leans forward into her to kiss her, pressing his mouth hard against hers, tongue licking into her long and slow, before pulling back, breathing heavily again. Elvis reluctantly stood up. âGotta get ready now. Get ourselves looking uh, presentable.â He cracks his back, stretching his arms and Laura feels abruptly cold at the loss of his warm body heat, panting as her heartbeat slows and the throbbing between her legs cools to a faintly warm glow.
â------------
Laura stares at her hair in the mirror, pinning half of it up, brushing through the rest gently, trying not to lose too much of the volume from the day. Her mousy roots are showing from where she dyes it near-black and she absentmindedly makes a mental note to ask if Elvis knows where she can get some dye, or if thereâs time for her to go to the hairdressers. Heâd already left for downstairs, having gotten changed unusually faster than she had and left the bedroom long before she was done in the bathroom, telling her,
âTake your time, baby, ainât going nowhere without you.â Sheâd blushed at her own reflection at her reaction to his words - it had clearly been a throwaway sentence for him, not something she should take to heart and yet she couldnât resist it. It was too much, too soon, too close to everything she wanted that she could practically feel it fluttering around her head, feeling herself locking it away tight in her chest. It had been on the edge of every interaction with him the past couple of years, the knowing that she was kept around for a reason, and that she kept coming back for a reason. Sheâd never been much of a fan of the men in Vegas; they were all too lecherous and desperate â even those that werenât there to partake in all the sins and pleasures. The few dates sheâd been on with guys sheâd met while working out there had ended fast, and often slightly uncomfortably. Elvis wasnât like that though. Sheâd thought he might be, expected he would be - had rolled her eyes at herself when her stomach flipped at his fingers calling her over. Had lain in bed telling herself it was just her stupid crush from years ago rearing its ugly head, making her see things that werenât there. She wouldnât ever even see him again, and donât be stupid Laura, he probably wasnât all that nice anyway. Besides, he has a wife and she knew enough not to get involved.
But somehow, her feelings and heart ruled over her sense and before she knew it her life revolved around him in a not unwanted way. Sheâd not had to worry as much about the men in Vegas then, they could behave how they wished â her dating life that had previously been slim was pared down even more, too anxious that she might be out when Elvis would choose to call and sheâd miss him or have to explain where she was. It meant dates were few and far between, but as much as she thought herself a terrible idiot - she couldnât bear to let anything get far enough that she might have to turn Elvis down.
She shakes her head at the reminiscence, it's been years since that first encounter during one of his early residencies. Sheâs getting too emotional about it now sheâs allowed to be here, tangled in the domesticity of Graceland life, allowed to be photographed, and publicised. She just needs to stay in the moment, worry about how her feelings are getting involved when she gets home - sheâs only here for a month, she should just make the most of it. She finishes getting ready quicker with that in mind, rushing through her make-up, a voice in her head telling her not to stupidly waste time. Before long she had her mini dress on and shoes quickly buckled before she headed down the stairs.
Laura had seen photos of Elvis when he was younger, knew that he wasnât opposed to knits, it just wasnât something sheâd yet had the good fortune of witnessing. But there he was, sat on the couch in the music room, waiting for her and everyone else to be ready. Open V neck knitted sweater with a little collar. She stilled in the hallway, reluctant to break his silence. Heâs just sat there with his thighs spread and his legs stretched out, arms across the back of the sofa, his eyes closed and head tipped back. She must make a noise, or something, because he suddenly jolts his head up to look over at her. They make eye-contact and she freezes even more still, trapped in his intense gaze. He looks well, like she wanted to climb into him and never crawl out, cuddly and soft and yet thick and masculine. Laura swallowed, her hands shaking a little, as he pats his thigh. How ridiculous that something as little as that could make someone so nervous - sheâs just about to take a step towards him, ready to curl into the plush fuzzy softness of his sweater and tangle her fingers in the similarly plush fuzzy softness of his chest hair when thereâs a sudden ruckus from seemingly all sides as all the other men and woman, ready for a night out, suddenly appear. Laura mourns the loss of her cuddle, but Elvisâ hand in hers as he effectively shows her off on their way out makes up for it a little.
The step out into the late evening air was even chillier than the day, Laura shivered in her thin jacket - it was downright unseasonable for Tennessee in October to be this cold and she wishes for the second time that day that sheâd thought to bring a heavier coat, but then the heavy thump of Elvisâ arm comes down around her shoulder, enveloping her in him. She finds she doesnât mind the cold so much then, able to enjoy the scent of the wet, crisp fall air and how it just feels different to the summer within the warmth of his grasp.
Theyâd filtered into the Memphian and Elvis immediately grasped her wrist, pulling Laura with him. He ignored the hustle of the others to head straight up the stairs to the balcony, she goes where he leads - heâd taken her to the Crosstown the last time sheâd been in Memphis, so she didnât really have much choice; not knowing where he was going beyond the âbalconyâ sign on the door. The door slams behind her, and she jumps at its loud echo in the empty movie theatre.
âI didnât wanna âembarrass you âround the guys, I just, uh, want you all to myself.â He pauses while he shuffles down the aisle, âFigured this way,â He settled himself into a chair one row back, in the very centre, âthis way you can - â
Elvis suddenly realises she hasnât followed him down the aisle and laughs, âCâmon, darling, whatâchyu standing out there for?â Laura hurries down to him, and he clasps her hand as she gets herself comfortable in the seat next to his, bringing it to his lips. She blushes at the feeling - it was so startlingly romantic that she canât think of what to say, her heart beating like a hummingbirdâs. He settles back into his chair, dropping her hand to stretch his arm across the back of her chair. A couple of the others come thundering up the stairs, laughing and joking, but they go silent when coming through the doors, taking seats right along the back wall - Lauraâs head turns to see who it was but Elvisâ hand from her chair blocks its path, two fingers pressed against her cheek as he cups her face - keeping her looking directly at him.
âDonâ worry about them - they wonât bother us none.â She nods, unable to stop herself leaning her head further into his hand â he smiles softly - cheeks crinkling into his eyes. His hand falls to stroke at her shoulder,
âThere we are. Now, what was I saying?â He pauses, âOh, yeah, if - this way if yâget scared I can cuddle ya.â He pauses, âYouâre alright with aâŚ. uhâŚ. slasher flick arenât ya?â He prods her far shoulder.
She nodded enthusiastically, although her head was ringing alarm bells - she wasnât normally a huge fan of any kind of horror. She lived alone - life was scary enough without worrying about x hiding behind her doors at night.
But any reservations Laura had were quickly lost when after the title card came across the screen accompanied by some ominous instrumentals Elvisâ hand came creeping across to her thigh,
âYou scared?â She shakes her head.
âCourse not.â He nods, although his smirk suggests heâs unconvinced,
âGood, but just so you know - âm packingâŚ. I could protect you from anything. âSpecially a man.â Heâs looking at her almost too seriously, and she feels trapped under his intense gaze, all she can do is nod.
âOf course - I know, I know you would.â He stares a second longer, before leaning back into his chair, and he indicates with his head the unoccupied seat next to him.
âBesides, if youâre just scared, I got my big olâ flashlight with me too.â She nods again, not quite knowing what to say in reply - she can tell heâs waiting for her to speak though so all that spills out of her mouth is,
âThatâs-thatâs the police one, right?â
âMmhmm⌠got it direct offa the sheriff.â She turns to say something else, but the opening scene starts to play and he shushes her, pulling his hand off her thigh, enrapt in the movie.
Clearly, it fails in holding his attention for very long. Mere minutes later he leans over, sighing, not bothering to try and keep quiet. She squeaks in surprise as his hands grip hold of her arms - tugging her, she scrabbles over the arm of the chair to go where heâs pulling her â arranging her to be sat on his lap. She looks around, suddenly coming to the realisation that at some point he must have shooed away everyone else from the balcony. He tuts, a finger going to her mouth in a keep quiet gesture when she opens it to speak, pointing at the screen as if telling her to keep watching. Laura does, but sheâs lost track of whatever was going on and canât find it in herself to care when she feels one of his hands curl around to creep gently up her uncovered thigh, the other gripping tight on her side, just below her breast. He teases her like that for a few minutes, although Lauraâs lost all sense of time, too focussed on the tickle of his fingers and breath on her neck. She canât take it anymore, turning to throw an arm around his neck, shifting on his lap to draw him into a kiss. Elvis pulls her tighter, fingers tensing, and she moans into him.
He tugs Lauraâs leg a little, pulling her to be straddling his lap. Sheâs embarrassed almost, or would be if there were anyone around, to be sat on his knee like this, rocking against him and necking him like a goddamn teenager. Sheâs not done this since college, and he feels so different. Heâs got solid thighs and sure hands, manoeuvring her and masterfully keeping his lips on hers - just the right amount of pressure, of tongue, and nibbling bites.
Elvisâ fingers slide up her skirt, toying with the fabric of her slip while his other comes around to palm at her like a teenager himself, hand roving over her breast. She gasps into him, pressing open-mouthed kisses to his jaw as she grinds against him. He seems to gain confidence at her reaction, moving to push the wide strap of her dress off her shoulder, tugging it low enough to reach the soft cotton of her bra. His fiddles with her nipples, pinching one just the tiniest bit between his fingers and Lauraâs eyes roll back in pleasure. He bumps her panties with the other, but goes no further, moving to grip her back in an attempt to keep her balance on his legs.
She pants, uncaring now if sheâs louder than the actors, gasping as he pulls away. Sheâs never been gladder heâs wearing a v-neck when she rocks against his thigh, leaning forward to suck a bruise against his collarbone. His hips dislodge her accidentally when the pressure gets too much and he bucks up, jerking her away. Lauraâs fingers tangle into the fabric on his shoulders, her nails making little divots in the knit; he was going to have to have someone steam this sweater to get it straight again. Heâs breathing rapidly against her cheek, hot breath tickling her nose,
ââs no good baby, I got - I got plans for you tonight.â Laura grinds against him, unabashed at her wanton display.
âOh yeah?â
âYeah baby, wanna,â His thumb rubs a circle on her hip as he slows his own jerking pelvis. âWanna show you something. Something a lilâ spookyâ Laura grins back at him, hand slipping down between them -
âOh yeah, you got something you want to show me?â She attempts a particularly awful Transylvanian accent, âSomething spooky you wanna show me?â She brushes her hand over the not insignificant bulge of his trousers, the outline of his cock clearly displaying heâd forgone underwear. He moans, eyes closing for a moment before he shakes his head, clasping her wrist and tugging her hand away.
âNo, no baby, honey, I got, ah, lord, got something serious I wanna show you.â Laura pauses from her playful wriggling, curious.
âOh yeah?â
âUh-huh Lor, but, uh, let it be a surprise.â He pulls up her strap, patting her shoulder.
âA surprise?â Sheâs unsure now that heâs not joking about sex.
âYou trust me, donât you?â Heâs looking at her so earnestly, lip caught in his teeth that she couldnât dream of refusing him.
âOf course!â He pushes her off his lap, brushing himself off and straightening her collar when he joins her in standing up,
âWell then darlinâ letâs go.â He holds out a hand and seems to take a mischievous glee in practically running away; leaving the boys downstairs none the wiser to their disappearance. He opens the car door for her with an exaggerated wave and bow before trotting around the front to climb in himself.
They pull up to the nearby funeral home and Elvis starts to climb out of the car but Laura stays frozen where sheâs sat, more uncertain than ever. âEl Iâm not sure about this,â He cuts her off,
âNah baby, trustâŚyou said you trusted me.â He leans down to peer through the door at her, âDonât go lying to me now, doll, Cilla liked it - she told me herself it was uh, enlightening!â Heâs tripping over his words in his haste to convince her. Heâd mentioned his trips to the morgue before - endlessly fascinated with the spiritual and scientific notion of the still bodies. But Lauraâs conflicted - she canât help but feel itâs fundamentally disrespectful to stand there gawking at some poor personâs body but, on the other hand, the reverent way he spoke about the trips and his persistent aura of peace means that she canât help but feel that itâs ok. As long as sheâs with him. She nods, climbing out to follow him. He once again takes her hand, and the unease builds again the closer they get to the door - she was concerned before with the morality of going in there but now itâs her squeamish nature thatâs starting to make her tummy hurt.
âCâmon hon, itâll be good for you.â
âIf you say so -â She mutters back. He raps on the door that was now in front of them. There are no lights on, and she shakes her head,
âElvis - I donât think thereâs anyone in there, theyâre closed.â He tilts his head, frowning, as if confused that a door might remain shut to him before insistently knocking again.
âI got, got special permission, Laura, they - they canât just lock us out. Hello?â He bangs on the window to the side of the door, he huffs, turning away when thereâs a sudden loud crash from inside. Both him and Laura jump at the noise, both whirling back - Elvis jogs down the path, standing back to be able to see all the windows but still no light turns on to indicate anyone inside. He marches back up to the door, raising his arm to pound on it again but Laura catches his forearm, tugging it back to her;
âCâmon El - weâll come back another night. Iâm - Iâm scared now, and maybe if they know weâre coming theyâll have the lights onâŚâ He looks down at her, gaze softening at the way sheâs quivering a tiny bit - a combination of the anticipatory fear, her jumpiness, and the cold.
âGoddamnit.â He swears, âWell, guess weâll have to come back another night.â He makes it sound like his idea and accompanies it with a shake of his head. Laura had fully expected him to be more annoyed - and he is, somewhat, ranting the whole way back to Graceland; but thankfully less at the funeral home and his inability to sneak in and more at the movie theyâd left. Blaming it for his rash idea to come here with no planning involved.
Most of the cars were already back and parked along the driveway when they got there; either the movie had finished and theyâd all left before they started another, or more likely - theyâd noticed Elvisâ disappearance and abandoned the movie all together. Red shook his head at Elvis as they walked in,
âMan - donât you go looking at me like that.â Red baulks at the suggestion,
âI wasnât Boss, wasnât looking at you like anything, swear it -â Laura tactfully takes a step back, removing her jacket and taking Elvisâ coat in an attempt to remove herself from the conversation. She goes to the kitchen in the hope of finding someone to hand them off to, before taking a second to collect herself to be, hopefully, a calming influence on the raised voices she could now hear. She slinks back into the hallway,
âI can go where I goddamn like - you sayinâ I canât protect myself?â Elvisâ waving his pistol in the air like heâs in a western, and Laura bites her lip to stop from giggling. Redâs backtracking now, his hands up as if warding Elvis off,
âOf course, I wasnât - I wasnât suggesting that Iâm jusâ - just sayinâ you disappeared is all and what with the threats -â
âYou hear about anybody threateninâ me at home?â Elvis roars back, his finger inching ever so slightly to the trigger; Laura panics desperate for them to not get into this now - God forbid there had been a threat made, theyâd all be up for hours while they reassessed the security. Red shakes his head,
âWell, no - but people move about, EP, they donât just stay in one-â Laura takes her chance and steps in, lightly touching Elvisâ arm,
âBaby, Iâm tired.â Elvis does a double take at her, completely ignoring Red still talking. âCan we go to bed please?â She blinks owlishly at him to convince him to leave it be, and Elvis seemed to relax, his tense shoulders coming down as he lowers his arm with the gun in hand. Thereâs a long pause,
âSure, sure, doll, sure.â He gestures for her to go ahead, pausing at the bottom of the stairs, âGet him the fuck out of my house, Iâll talk to yâall tomorrow.â Elvis ignores Redâs reply, climbing the stairs himself. He shushes Laura when they reach his bedroom, fiddling with the security camera feed until he watches Red leave. He sighs, heavily, and shakes his whole body out, âAwh, baby, I didnât - didnât need to get all worked up like that, just - those assholes just donât understand what itâs like to be me. I canât be all, all, all cooped up like this all the time.â He whines, gesturing expressively as he talks.
âItâs ok.â She shrugs, running her manicured hands gently up his arm, âThey can be pretty overbearing huh?â She presses her chin into the crook of his shoulder as he sighs, kneading his biceps. He sighs back at her,
âI know heâs just doinâ his job, butâŚâ He trails off, taking another deep breath, âAnyway, enough of that now. I want to get back to the night - all mâplans were ruined tonight - you deserve well, you deserve the perfect night.â He turns in her arms, and Laura frowns up at him,
âWhy donât you let me worry about that. Iâm fine, Iâve had a great night; such a shame about not being let into the morgueâŚ. How about you let me take care of you?â He shakes his head,
âNaw, naw darlinâ I want to -â He cups her face in his hands, the size of his palms dwarfing her cheeks, âwant to show you how much I like having you here.â Elvis tips her head up, bending over a little to reach her lips even as sheâs stood on her tiptoes.
Sheâs enrapt in the moment, not really even conscious of his hands fiddling with her zipper on her back until she suddenly feels his fingertips on her bare skin, chasing the zip all the way down until it's falling off her on its own. His hand comes up to clasp her face to his when she moves as if to pull away, using his free hand to shove her dress to pool at her feet. He pulls back with a tug on her bottom lip, and Laura surges forward to hurriedly tug at his sweater - he takes the hint, pulling it over his head and Laura turns her attention to his trousers. He rushes to unhook her bra, even as he stumbles out of his pants, and it's only a few seconds later before her panties join her dress on the floor.
âCâmon now, honey, sâok, just - just wanna love on you some,â He pulls on her wrist again, smiling almost shyly down at her naked form. Gently lowering her on top of the covers, he kisses her neck, gentle presses of his lips - every few seconds sucking down with a little more pressure in one spot, before moving to the next. He moves down Lauraâs chest, one hand on her waist keeping her still, the other joining his mouth. He kisses across her breasts â capturing her nipple in his mouth, he wets it with his saliva, pulling back to blow his breath across it, Lauraâs skin pebbling in response as she quivers. Her hands come up to tangle in his hair, and Elvis stills when she tugs just a little too hard - the sting sparkling down his spine. He pants against her, eyes closed as he rests his head on her chest, trying to regain any semblance of self-control so he could continue, his hands splayed across her stomach. The heat that had been building in Lauraâs body all day is back with a vengeance, and already she can feel her heartbeat throbbing between her legs.
He presses little kisses down the soft folds of her stomach, and he grunts as he repositions himself up onto his knees. Laura takes a moment to drink in the sight of him - the way his hair is fluffed out from where her hands were just in it, the dark shadow that hints at stubble around his chin catching her attention, and below that a flush that matches hers colours his chest. Sheâs almost embarrassed at the little moan that slips out of her mouth as she follows, with her eyes, the thick patch of chest hair past his necklaces, and down, down his soft tummy before she rests them onto Little Elvis. Whoâs already popped up to say hello, rosy and chubby. He takes her moment of stillness as his cue to go on and shifts one hand to tweak her nipple, the other going down to gently trail across her thigh. Laura gasps, urging him on. He dances his fingers across, hovering them over her until sheâs about to beg. The moment his rough fingertip finally touches her she jolts, legs falling open even as her thighs clench.
âOh Lord, youâre, youâre, Christ Lor, youâre ready for me already.â He strokes his finger up her wetness, adding a second to the mix to expertly spread her sticky folds. Laura tries to respond but all she can manage is a frantic nod as she struggles to find her words while Elvis busies himself with teasing her in little circles, dipping his finger in just the teeniest bit to gather more wetness and bring it back to circle almost directly on her clit. Heâs got the same burning focus he does on stage, eyes blazing and his mouth open a little in concentration, pouty lips looking even more appealing in their bitten state. Lauraâs eyes fall closed and she feels Elvisâ hand come back to her stomach, pinning her in place while his other plays with her, stilling her jerking hips a little. Laura doesnât know what to do with her hands, but the problem quickly resolves itself when Elvis leans back to rub his wet hand over himself, before lining himself up and sinking into her hot, soaking, heat. Lauraâs hands fall to grip at his shoulders, uncaring of her nails sinking into his delicate flesh.
âEl-Oh, god, bit, bit of warning - next time, would be, ah, would be ni-ice.â She was ready but it didnât stop her from feeling the stretch of him pushing into her. He pauses,
âYou want, you want me to, fuck, come out?â He looks pained as he says it, and Laura grins,
âChrist no! Just, give me a-,â She wiggles a little, âNo, no. Itâs fine.â
âYeah? You sure, honey? I donât wanna - meant to be about you baby,â He says this, even as he canât help but nudge further into her, his eyes begging her to say he can stay.
âElvis. God, you can move.â Heâs slow at first, barely rocking his famous hips, eyebrow quirking as he teases her.
âYeah, baby? That - that what you wanted?â She groans, red-faced and sweaty,
âElvis. Please.â Itâs the magic word for a reason and he smiles before he concentrates again, his own eyes rolling back a little at the pleasure of it all as he builds up speed, rapidly fucking into her.
Laura rocks her hips into the air, legs shaking as Elvis brings his thumb down to rub directly over her clit, and their tight connection keeps her in precisely the right position even as her legs seem to flail. Her orgasm hits suddenly, and she falls off the precipice with a yell, mouth open and eyes wide as she catches sight of them both in the mirror, Elvisâ sweaty self-satisfied grin as he slows his fingers.
She shivers with the aftershocks, suddenly realising there were tears streaming down her face.
âOh - Lord, whatâs, ugh, whatâs wrong baby, am I - am I hurting you?â He slows himself until heâs almost completely still, although, not totally. His voice strains with the effort of not moving, high-pitched, and Laura just shakes her head, âNo - honey, I gotta know, you want me, you want me to stop?â
âNo, no,â Laura sniffles, ââs just, just a bit much - please Elvis, I want more.â
âBit much?â Elvis takes her at her word and thrusts into her again,
âJust canât get over you wanting me - âs just,â she moans, âjust over, oh, overwhelming.â
âBaby, you feel what you do to me? What you done to me all day?â He pushes the hair from her face, staring down at her. She gazes back at him, glossy-eyed. âAwh, now baby, donât look like that - youâre so pretty - Jesus, Lord, even,â He thrusts again, starting to fuck into her at a solid pace, âEven, fuck, even crying baby - makes your eyes all big, and your cheeks all rosy ⌠god you look so fucking pretty.â He drags her even closer to him, his hands tight on her hips and waist, finger bruises being left - she babbles at him that he looks good too, pretty, and handsome and sexy. He doesnât last much longer, maybe another thirty seconds before heâs shouting,
âOh fuck, baby,â and his hips still, mouth falling open and his eyes rolling back as he groans. He collapses half on her, half on the bed and despite the almost overwhelming heat of him Laura welcomes the sensation of his heavy presence over her and the way he rubs his face on her shoulder. It should disgust her, the fact that heâs essentially covering her in his musk and sweat, but instead she finds it endearing, her pulse jumping in reaction to it. She kisses the top of his head and he responds by gently pulling out of her, rolling to one side. She tries to find it in herself to be brave, the afterglow making her bolder than she would normally be, but still not quite enough on her own.
âCan feel them cogs whirrinâ from here - did I not give you ânough attention?â He rolls over to face her. Laura shakes her head, taking a deep breath - itâs hard to have this conversation when she can literally feel his cum still sliding out of her, and she doesnât know what sheâll do if he refuses.
âElvis, can I - I want to stay here. Can I stay?â He pauses,
âFor Christmas?â Laura frowns, starting to shiver at the cooling sweat and her stress at the discussion. Elvis tuts, rubbing her arm,
âWell, maybe? I mean Iâd love to - if youâll have me. But I mean, maybe that could - Iâd really like to stay with you.â He hums, as if finally understanding what sheâs getting at, thereâs a long enough pause that Laura opens her mouth to say she didnât mean it, explain that she was caught up in the emotions of the evening and she didnât want to - honest, but Elvis beats her to it.
âWell, hon-ey,â Heâs talking slower than normal, his southern drawl even more pronounced, âI donât, I donât see why not - I sure like having you around.â Laura turns to face him, finally,
âYou mean it?â
âWouldnât say if I didnât.â He says it sarcastically but heâs smiling softly at her and Laura grins,
âOh! Thank you,â He strokes a circle against her arm, and she continues the only thing she can think in her mind thatâs not just Elvis Presley agreed I could live with him is the next thing that comes falling out of her mouth, âIâm gonna need a thicker coat.â Elvis laughs,
âBaby, you wait âtil Christmas - Iâll get you the warmest coat youâve ever seen.â She smiles back laughing a little with relief, âNow, letâs get you warmed up again.â He rolls himself back over her and she giggles as he digs his fingers into her sides and his lips find hers once again.
Our submission to the Elvis-o-Ween writing prompt...
Summary: It's October 31, 1957. Elvis faces some real-life horrors at Sy Devore's Halloween party. The beautiful and mysterious Jeanne helps unburden Elvis, in more ways than one.
Notes: How to explain this one?! @shakerattlescroll and I wanted to write something Halloween-themed, and we were both drawn to this party Elvis attended. As far as we can tell it's the only Halloween party he ever went to, the only time he wore a Halloween costume (if you can even call that mask a costume), and the only time he was photographed drinking beer. It was also a very chaotic time for Elvis' career and personal life, and his draft notice was right around the corner. We explore these themes and try to weave a thread between them. We were heavily inspired by the Stanley Kubrick film Eyes Wide Shut, and moderately inspired by the Stephen Frears/Martin Scorcese film The Grifters. This chapter is pretty light on smut, but don't fret, we have plenty more of that in store.
Ratings: Mature/NSFW/No Minors
Warnings: Sexual themes but no real smut, alcohol use, some bodily fluids (but not the kind you're probably thinking).
No Tricks, Only Treats, Baby! (An Elvis and Jane Writing Prompt Game Halloween One Shot)
Happy Friday the 13th everyone! This is my absolute favorite time of year, I live for spooky season so I suggested a Halloween/autumn theme for our little group (@thatbanditqueen, @ellie-24, @whositmcwhatsit, @vintageshanny, @from-memphis-with-love, @be-my-ally, @missmaywemeetagain) to do for the writing prompt game. I do apologize that mine is soooo late but this week was crazy busy and I didn't have as much time to write as I would have liked. But that's ok because posting mine on Friday the 13th seems appropriate for me because well, this is me and this is my time of year. It's always Halloween in my soul. đ
So, that said, here is my little contribution for Elvis-O-Ween. This is pure fluff and smut and I had entirely too much fun writing it. I hope it ends up being worth the wait for you guys. As with my previous one shot with these two, nothing relevant to the plot of the main story except for the explanation behind Elvis's nickname for my OC Jane. Other than that this can stand alone. And I do promise the next chapter of the main story is coming soon, it got set on the back burner for a bit so I could have some Halloween fun with these 2 so I hope you'll forgive me. (Links to main story and previous one shot under the cut if you need them.)
Tag list is under the cut, I do hope it works correctly but we all know Tumblr can be buggy and well, it IS Friday the 13th soooo...you never know. @samfangirls I know you're not on my tag list for the main WIP but I'm tagging you in this because I feel like you'll appreciate the costumes I picked out for Elvis and my OC. đ
ENJOY!!
WC: 3548
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
Hortense has had a hard night, and now Joan and her new friend Elvis make it harder. So she decides to get away from them, the police, her family, and find anything she can to distract herself from the horrors of the night and her memory finding the body of Martha Gayle, stabbed to death, in one of the back alleys of Pontchartrain Beach.
The trouble is, this Elvis guy won't leave her alone.
WC: 6,477
Warnings: More minor gore
This one got away from me. Now its 2 am and I have to work tomorrow... oy. No proofreading, sloppy writing, blah blah blah.
Happy Elvis-o-Ween my friends......
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
let me know if you want to be tagged or untagged for ch 3....
The last of this year's Elvis-o-ween one shots.....
A hastily written spooky smutfest that may be my worst writing yet?
Summary: Loosely based on Elvis' affair with Elisabeth Stefaniak, this one shot finds our boy during his Army service living in Bad Neuheim and playing the field, much to the chagrin of his shy, live-in secretary and girlfriend Bettina.
Warnings: MINORS DNI Sex stuff, infidelity, angsty angst, lots of typos and probably nonsensical sentences.
WC: 6.2 K
Thursday, September 9th, 1959
GoethestraĂe 14, Bad Nauheim, West Germany
Approximate 10:45 p.m.
Bettina watched from across the room as Elvis whispered a joke to the Australian girl sitting beside him on the piano bench. What was her name, Julie? Cynthia? Her shriek was so loud and jarring it made Bettina bite her lip, and she winced at the coppery taste on her tongue, mad at herself for being so jumpy. Elvis hit a minor key and lost his place in the song, which made him turn and yell at Charlie.
âWatch ya chords now, watch it Foggy Bottom Boy. Made me loose my place. Some times I think ya head got water logged crossinâ over.â
Elvis sighed, then went back to tinkering around on the keys, settling on singing the ballad âIâll Take You Home Again Kathleenâ directly to Julia, whose giggles now filled the room. There were a handful of people over tonight, in addition to the Aussies that Lamar had brought home from the beer hall. No doubt he had hoped to get lucky with one of them, but both girls had been hovering around Elvis since they arrived, and Lamar had now plopped onto the couch with a pout. Bettina caught Rex looking over at her, and she rolled her eyes and tilted her head at Elvis, trying to get Rex to smile. Elvis had been singing this song all week. But there was more than just teasing camaraderie in Rexâs eyes. There was sympathy too in the way he narrowed his gaze at her. Bettina frowned and turned her eyes down to stare down at her shoes. She pulled on her necklace and crossed her arms around herself as tight as she could. You wished for this, you are living the dream, she told herself as she leaned further into the shadows.
Meeting Elvis last year had been her dream. Was it only a year ago? How had her life changed so completely in one year? She had left that shy, inexperienced eighteen year old girl who had spent her nights hoping to get Elvisâ autograph back in Graferwohr. The night Rex noticed her and took her to meet Elvis had been the happiest night of her life. Elvis had walked her home and kissed her good night against the tree in front of her apartment building. His lips had been so sweet, his hands so tender. They had lifted her off the ground and she was pretty sure she had just floated up to her bedroom knowing nothing in life would ever top this experience.
But then Elvis had shown up at her door, her door, again the next night and invited himself to dinner. He spent the week at their apartment, flirting with her mother, playing their piano and then kissing her good night when she walked him out. No, nothing could ever top this.
But then, as she braced herself to bid him farewell at the end of his training he invited her to come live with him in Bad Neuheim and be his secretary. You could have knocked her over with a feather. Because Bettina knew from the way he kissed her that he was not just asking her to be his secretary. She knew he was bringing her home to be his girlfriend, and make all her wishes come true.
If only she had been more specific and wished to be his only girlfriend.
Now here she was, spending her evenings unsure if Elvis would spend the night with her or another girl he met. The music stopped and Bettina glanced up to see Elvis whisper again to the girl sitting next to him. His hand caressed the girlâs shoulder and then she blushed and nodded. A minute later she stood and disappeared through the door on the other side of the living room toward the back staircase. He thinks he is being so clever, Bettina thought. In ten or fifteen minutes heâll declare himself ready for bed and go join her. It was a performance Bettina knew all too well.
Elvis continued play songs on the piano, singing âI Asked the Lordâ next and then a few other American pop songs. Charlie was harmonizing with Elvis, but now he, too, was shooting her a sorrowful look. Ugh. Bettina felt a prickle behind her eyes and had to blink back her tears. She wanted to recede through the wall.
But that is not how walls work. They do not just open up and transport you to a better place when you feel uncomfortable. Had she ever felt more alone than she did here in a room full of soldiers, wives, dates and random women who all ignored her ?
Thinking of this, Bettina sucked on the part of her lip that she had bitten and decided to flee to the kitchen. She grabbed a Fanta and the sweet, citrus drink stung her lip. But she kept gulping it down, forcing herself to drink it all. At least it got rid of the bitter taste of blood in her mouth.
The other Australian stumbled through the swinging door to the kitchen and dipped her head as she took a Dr. Pepper from the ice in the sink.
âOh hiya. Gosh, our own private Elvie concert, eh? Must be sweet as honey working as Elvis Presleyâs secretary, faffing around with him and this lot all the time.â
Bettina took another sip of her drink, looking the blonde up and down. âJa, sweet as honey. It is, as they say, the most.â
âYeah, sâwhat I thought, ol Elvie is so much more handsome in person, and so fun too. Weâre all just mad for him back in âstraya.â
âHmmm, ja, he is so fun.â
Bettina smiled and nodded big before she excused herself and made her own way upstairs and then down the narrow hallway to her bedroom. She could hear Dodger snoring in the room next to her's. Stopping outside Elvisâ room, the faint sound of girlish giggles hummed through the door, followed by a loud THUMP on the bed. It made Bettinaâs tummy drop, and she had to steady herself against the wall. She didnât even brush her teeth, she want straight to bed. All she wanted was to slip under her covers and disappear into oblivion. The taste of orange Fanta was still on her lips, sweet and bitter.
It was before dawn when she heard the door to her room creak open. Half asleep, Bettina stirred and straightened her back as she felt someone climb into bed behind her. A tall, long lanky someone. She knew without looking it was Elvis. Still miffed, she kept her eyes closed and turned her head away as he pulled her into him.
âThere she is, canât sleep without ma little Fog Horn.â His breath was warm on her neck, and he nuzzled his chin into her shoulder. âUgh, honey, Iâm plum tuckered out.â He leaned over her, giving her a final kiss on her ear before settling in with his arms around her.
When Bettina woke up she was in his arms and her head rested over his chest, her breath keeping time with each lift and fall of his body. His palm was flat against her back and she could feel his fingers trace circles slowly into the silk fabric of her night dress. The dim light of dawn shone in through the window, painting the room in a pinkish dreamy haze. She thought of all the things she wanted to tell him. How she could still smell a foreign perfume on his bare chest. Or ask him in a snarky tone what happened to his other friend. But then his mouth was crushing into the top of her forehead and each kiss reminded her that he was there, with her. Not anyone else. And the reassurance of his physical body, here and now, longing for her, made her heart swell with desire. His fingers stroked away all her hurt and jealous qualms like sunshine chasing away the clouds, and she was his completely once more.
Bettina tilted her head to meet his lips and he moaned into her mouth. âAw Betty, this is always ma favorite part of the day.â
The smell of Elvisâ musky sweat and pomade filled Bettinaâs nose when he shifted himself over her. His knees grazing hers as a goofy, bashful smile spread across his face. Below her waist his fingers pulled at the hem of her night dress.
 âI mean it honey, sâonly thing that gets me through the day.â
His eyes turned downward, and Bettina shivered with anticipation as he languidly rolled the beige silk fabric up her thigh, inch my inch, savoring the way he gasped out at the sight of her white panties. She lifted her hips to help him pull them off and sighed out when he slide his fingers between her legs. Then his breath was at her neck and he was nibbling her ear, all the while flicking his fingers back and forth over her sensitive nub.
âSheâs such a pretty baby. Prettiest baby he ever found. Heâs so lucky to find a lil angel like hers in Germany.â
Elvis awkwardly fumbled at his belt, shaking his head as he had to sit back to to get his pants off. Bettina rolled her teeth over her lip, feeling the sensitive spot where she had bit herself again. She was happiest right here, looking up at Elvis as he eagerly struggled to get his clothes off and make love to her. The warmth of the sheets enveloped her and she gave him a single nod of approval as he parted her legs. Her hands clutched his back, roving over his shoulder blades as he thrust gently into her. Moaning out, she focused on his eyes and how intent they were as she relaxed and opened herself to him. His lip hung open in apt concentration and she bucked into him as he steadily rocked back and forth.
An aching tingling pleasure coiled in her belly each time their hips met, and Elvis leaned down closer as he sunk further into her. Kissing her neck and whispering sweetly about how pretty she was, and how much she meant to him. He found the spot that made her cry out, and the metal frame of her bed began to bang lightly against the wall as he increased his rhythm. She could hold back no longer and moaned out as her orgasm burst through. Just then the door to Grandma's room slammed shut and Elvis quickly covered her mouth with his hands to muffle the sound of her cries as Dodgerâs footsteps echoed through the hallway on the other side of the wall.
He shook his head, sssshing her with a michievous grin. Bettina made a face, as if to say she couldnât help it and Elvisâs grin became a squeezed, pained expression. His movements become more erratic and he began to stutter before he pulled out and finished over her belly. Afterwards, he caught his breath and fell back into the pillows panting, drawing Bettina into him as the sweat cooled over their bodies and they heaved together. She leaned into his chest hair and whispered âIch liebe dich,â and he stroked her head, mumbling âme too, baby, me too.â
At five a.m. he kissed her forehead and pulled on his pants, looking both ways out of her door before departing with a wink. Bettina waited until he showered and went downstairs before she got up to follow.
6 a.m. Friday, September 10th 1959
GoethestraĂe 14, Bad Nauheim, West Germany
Dodger was pouring another cup of coffee for her son and grandson when Bettina came into the dining room and blushed at the sight of Elvisâ grandmother.
Some nights he snuck into her room late at night, some nights he would whisper for her to see him in his bedroom. Either way, she was certain the old woman could hear the creak of the mattress from their late night and early morning activities. For that matter, Bettina guessed that Elvisâ father Vernon also knew how things were between his son and her. But whatever his thoughts on the matter were, Vernon kept them to himself.
Elvis stood to leave with a mouth still chewing bacon, egg and tomato sandwich. This did not stop him from kissing first Dodger and then Bettina on the cheek and wishing his babies a good day. Bettina downed a cup of coffee and helped Grandma clean up.
âGod knows that youngunâ has the world on his shoulders. Sâtoo much for one boy to bear. He is lucky to have a nice girl like you, Betty.â
Dodger looked her in the eye, before lifting up the loaf of cornbread that Vernonâs new girlfriend, Dee, had brought over. Dodger sniffed it with a tight grimace before tossing it in the trash.
âThat Stanley woman has about as much business messing with corn bread as she does messing with my son.â
Bettina giggled, and the two woman made quick work of clearing up the kitchen together before Bettina went to work sorting through Elvisâ fan mail and sending back photographs that she signed for him.
It was a cheerful, fall day, and the house was in high spirits when Elvis came back for lunch to eat with Lamar and Cliff. It was only after Frau Pieper, the house keeper, brought Bettina the latest stack of mail that she felt her spirits waver again.
There on the top was a pink envelope addressed to Bettina. This was what Elvis told his girlfriends back in Memphis to do in order to make sure their correspondence didnât get mixed up with the fan mail. Looking at the return address, this letter was from Anita Wood.
Frau Pieper muttered under her breath in German as she watched Bettina hesitate.
âAck, you should be ashamed of yourself, cheapening your body for that American. You will never be anything more to him than a bed warmer.â
Bettina stared down at the wood floor, studying the grain and the scratches there.
âYou are just jealous, Frau Pieper. I see the way you look at Elvis, how you hug him. You find him just as irresistible as I do.â
The housekeeper grinned. âIf I were your age, I would be visiting Golde Wolff for a love spell.â
âGolde Wolff? A love spell?â Bettina turned back and arched her eyebrows, unsure she had heard Frau Pieper correctly.
âJa, the old Jewish witch on FriedensstraĂe.â
Bettina rubbed her hands together. âI heard there were no Jews left in Bad Neuheim after -â
âJa, Golde Wolff is the last Jew, she hid in a basement of one of the abandoned houses for ten years. They say she only came out during the darkest nights to forage for herbs and food.â Frau Pieper leaned in, whispering in a hushed tone. âThe men who burned the synagogue and marched the Jews to the trains died tragically. All of them. At different times. She cursed them with her magical spells.â
âHmmm, you donât really believe that, do you?â
Frau Pieper put her hands in her apron and leveled Bettina with a look as sharp as a knife.
âI do. My sister took my niece Elfriede to Golde Wolff when no doctor could cure her fever. Today, Elfriede is married and lives a full life. If you want to fix that boy who treats you like a pig, go to FriedensstraĂe.â
Bettina laughed, and then grabbed Anitaâs pink letter, as if to show Frau Pieper how aloof she was, how accommodating and at ease she could be knowing she was one of the many women in Elvisâ life. Frau Pieper was just another ignorant, superstitious small town old lady. Witches. Honestly. It was just how the old guard masked their prejudice to Jews today in 1959.
âItâs women like you who are holding this country back.â She muttered in English smiling all the while at the housekeeper, knowing she didnât speak English.
But Frau Pieperâs words were harder to dispel and Bettina found they stayed with her through the day.
You will never be anything more to him than a bed warmer. The boy who treats you like a pig.
These words poked at her, digging deep into the recesses of her subconscious, the part of her that was not cool and aloof. The part of her that wanted more. That told her if she was just prettier, funnier, more charming Elvis would not want to be with other girls. And she could have him all to herself.
A darkness settled over Bettinaâs mood. Not even the bright light of Elvisâ smile could fully put her at ease when he got home and squeezed her waist, teasing her with a mouth full of coconut cake. No, her mood only darkened as the night wore on, and it got harder to cover it with a forced smile after the two Australian girls returned and gleefully smiled when Elvis invited them both up to his room. He did not visit Bettina that night, and the next day she heard him bragging to Lamar and Cliff at lunch.
âMan oh man, ainât nothinâ like a pack a wild Australian gals. Almost too much, jack. Iâm tellinâ ya. Pounced on me like a couple a tigers. Grrrrr. Know what I mean? All I gotta say is, look out.â They laughed. âI donât know bout all that, like my girls to act like girls, ya know? Them cats was too aggressive. Think I got some scratch marks.â This was followed by another round of sycophantic laughter, and a joke from Elvis about how Lamar likes his guys to act like girls.
It was all Bettina could do to keep her smile steady when she met Elvis in the hallway and accepted a farewell kiss on the cheek.
âThereâs my gal.â His crooked smile melted her heart. âWhy canât every gal be like you, Betty? Ya just pretty and so sweet.â
Thatâs why you donât need every girl, you just need me, she thought to her self.
It was not long after this that Bettina gathered her things and ventured out to find FriedensstraĂe.
It was not late, only half past three when Bettina got down to the town square. Yet for some reason it was already getting dark. The uneven cobblestones in the street rose to meet Bettinaâs shoes as if they were trying to trip her, and she felt as if the town was progressively getting darker as she made her way through what must have been the old Jewish quarter. Bettina walked all the way down FriedensstraĂe, but there was no sign or business that looked like it belonged to a witch. She wasnât sure what kind of store front a witch would have. She hadnât wanted to give Frau Pieper the satisfaction of knowing she was taking the old womenâs advice, and so had just gone to town hoping she would find it. It was only on her third trip sauntering back up FriedensstraĂe that she noticed the dark, narrow alley and the little flag sticking up from a basement several buildings down. Bettinaâs heart beat faster as she stumbled toward the sign, finally able to read the tattered cloth in the dark depth of the alley: âDer Apotheker.â
The rail at the top of the stairs down to the basement door was wet, and Bettina gripped it tightly, unsure whether to go through with this visit. She didnât believe in witches, she didnât believe in magic. At the bottom of the stairs was a door painted black, and in the middle a faded yellow star. It almost looked as if a circle or marking had been drawn around it, and Bettina was just squinting to try and make it out when the door flew open and she felt the wind push her forward until she was stumping into a dimly lit parlor.
âCome here, mine kindela.â
A soft throaty voice called from the back of the room, where a short, stout older women stood. Her hair was cut in a short grey bob, and her dress was a smart mustard yellow floral print. The kind popular after the war had ended. A golden dragonfly pin lifted the hair off the right side of the womenâs face, and adiamonds sparkled in the dragonfly's wings.
This was the old Jewish witch? She was trim and clean and friendly and could have been someoneâs grandmother. Comparatively, Frau Pieper looked more like a fat old hag. But then Bettina noticed something eerie about the way Golde Wolff smiled at her
âI ve been waiting for you. Have a seat, have a seat.â Golde motioned to the chairs at a dark red table in the center of the room.
Bettina looked around as she sat, the walls of the basement were painted a dark, burgundy color. Underneath her was a Persian rug with navy, gold and burgundy detailed patterns swirling around. As Bettina tread over it she could almost swear the patterns were moving. Shelves lined the back half of the parlor, stacked with glass jars filled with plants and powders and god knows whatelse. A stained glass lamp decorated with dragonflies in the mosaic and around the metal base was the only light in the room, save for a candle burning in the middle of the table.
âIâm, Iâm not really sure why Iâm here.â
Golde sat down across from her, folding her hands on the table.
âYou want a spell. A love spell, no?â
Bettina nodded, her mouth hung open.
âif I do this, you can never go back. There is no remedy. Do you really want to make someone love you?â
 âI - he, uh. He already loves me. He tells me all the time. I just want, I want him to love only me.â
Golde nodded, petting the black cat who suddenly appeared and jumped up into her lap.
âAh, yes, a spell to bring forth feelings that are already there. Focus them. Well, there will be a price.â
âWould I have to sacrifice something I want, like not being able to have children?â
âNo, no. A cost, forty marks to be exact.â
"Oh, ha."
Bettina pulled out her wallet, that was half a weekâs wages. She swallowed hard and handed over the money. Golde smiled and put out her hand.
âI need something of yours and something of his.â
Bettina pulled out the white, ivory bone comb she had found in Elvisâ room before she left, and then plucked a hair from her own head, placing the the black and brown strands into the witchâs palm.Â
Whack! The cat jumped on the table and began to rub against Bettinaâs shoulder, purring.
âWait here, Rumi will keep you company.â
And so Bettina scratched Rumi behind his ears and watched as the witch pulled out jars and poured ingredients into a mortar, grinding it up with a pestle. Twenty minutes later, Golde was pouring the mixture into a glass jar and handing the deep red candle to Bettina.
âYou must say your intention out loud then light the candle immediately and let it burn over night. Put it somewhere well protected where the flame can burn strong, creating a robust foundation for your love. When the candle has burned out, your spell will be complete.â
Bettina lit the candle the minute she got back, and left it burning on top of her dresser far from the window or the door. She could tell the magic was working immediately. Elvis was sweet to her the whole night through, pulling her on to his lap as he cajoled Cliff to entertain them with some of his stories, and keeping her near him all evening. His hands were at her waist, caressing her back and forth with his thumbs, his knee between her legs, naughtily pushing up and down. And when it was time for bed, he put his hand around her shoulder and guided her upstairs in front of the other guests.
 5 a.m. Saturday, September 12th , 1959
GoethestraĂe 14, Bad Nauheim, West Germany
At dawn he was furtively rubbing against her, half asleep with a full erection, and Bettina turned into him, bringing him between her legs for their morning love making ritual. She sighed as he pressed his dry lips to her neck, and peppered her clavicle with kisses as they banged the metal frame into the wall clumsily rocking and grunting into the day.
The candle had burned down to the bottom when Bettina checked it, and she smiled with satisfaction as she cleaned herself off and skipped down stairs to help Grandma with breakfast.
At midday she looked up from her work in the office to see Elvis jumping the high wooden fence that bordered the back yard and emerging at her window, smirking as he tapped her window. She opened it and laughed as he jumps through, helping to pull him in and then falling back against the desk.
âThere is a door, you know, ja?â
Elvisâ lips curled into a wider grin and his hands held her tight. âThis way was more fun. Better view.â
He waggled his eyebrows and kissed her lips, a glint in his eye.
âYou are a naughty little boy.â
âNah uh, ainât true.â He mumbles, lifting her on to the desk and knocking over her carefully stacked piles of fan letters and autographs. âHeâs a good little boy. Heâs her good little boy.â Then before she knew it he was telling her to be quiet as he settled on his knees and removed her panties, and his head disappeared under her skirt. At first, his tongue tickled her, she had yet to feel totally at ease letting a man do this. But Elvis had been dutifully working all year to make Bettina comfortable being kissed between her legs. There. At her pleasure point. His voice hummed into her as he pulled her to the edge of the table. He lapped at her gently, moving his index finger into her, his tongue feathering over her at first, then gradually flicking her nub before kissing it again. Lingering, he now possessed her completely with his mouth. Bettina knocked over more stacks of mail as she tried and failed to to find the edge of the desk to hold something as her whole body began to vibrate and thrash with the overwhelming sensation of her second orgasm of the day. She was still heaving and shuddering from the aftershocks as Elvis wiped his face on her inner thighs and licked his lips, a devilish glint in his eye.
âMhmmm mhmmm mhmm. Guess I had my dessert fore ma meal. Sâwhat you do to me, Betty boo.â
Bettina stayed in the office over the lunch hour, trying to compose herself and smiling. The spell had worked. She could feel it.
The spell had clearly not worked. There was no other explanation, Bettina thought, as she stood in her usual perch at the edge of the living room and watched Elvis talk and flirt with Heli, one of the other pretty young German girls he was dating. Bettina thought of the intimate moments she had shared with Elvis just hours ao. This made her tummy do several more summersaults until she could no longer stand to watch them anymore. Instead, she calmly turned and fled to her office. Moments later the door handle turned, and she looked up with excitement, knowing Elvis must have been stymied by the spell and told Heli to get lost.
But it wasnât Elvis.
âPlease Rex, Iâd like to just be alone, I - I have a headache.â
Rex inhaled, and instead of leaving, walked towards where she stood, looking out the window. He grabbed her wrist.
âI canât bear to see him treat you like this, Betty. Youâre so beautiful.â
âRex stop - what are you doing? You shouldnât be here. You know what he will do if he finds you talking to me like this.â
Rex stepped closer.
âI donât care, I canât stop thinking of you. I love you.â
Bettina blinked, and pulled her hand from his, looking around the room to get her bearing. She didnât know what to do, so she slapped his face, then jumped back as if she had been the one struck. Rex floundered for something to say, but Bettina didnât want to hear it and shuffled out as if the room was on fire, sequestering herself in her bedroom alone.
The sound of Elvis mattress bumping against the wall across the hallway drove a knife deeper and deeper into Bettinaâs heart.
8 a.m. Sunday, September 13th , 1959
A dark alley off FriedensstraĂe, Bad Nauheim, West Germany
The air was chilly as Bettina made her way down the steps to Goldeâs door, rapping against the black paint loudly until the witch finally opened up.
âGood morning, my child, it is early for ââ
âYour spell didnât work.â
Bettina pushed her small frame through the cracked door, eyeing Goldeâs gold and burgundy robes as she entered the witchâs parlor.
âThat is not possible.â Golde announced, closing the door behind her.
The smell of pinewood wafted through the room, and Bettina gazed into the flames of Goldeâs fire, watching them dance as she warmed her hands.
âWell, this time it is. But that is ok, I no longer want him to love me.â She turned to the witch, fists clenched. âWhat is the price for you to curse him?â
Golde put her hand on Bettinaâs shoulder, as Rumi slinked over, mewling at the witchâs feet. âMy child, you are so quick and changeable. Yesterday a love spell, today a curse. I cannot in good conscience do this. You must be mistaken, my spells always work.â
âYesterday, he made love to me in the morning and was in bed with another women by nightfall.â
Golde stroked her chin, and walked over to the table, motioning for Bettina to join her.
âAnd you are certain you brought me his hair?â
âYes, I found that comb on the floor of his room.â
âYou said he loved you already. So, the spell I made for you was one for a natural love, a spell to acquire his undivided devotion where love already existed. The only explanation is that you are wrong. He does not love you. He is just using you for his carnal pleasure.â
Bettina nodded. âJa, he seems so earnest, so sincere. But you must be right. All the more reason I want to put a curse on him.â
âYou are certain? Once done, it cannot be undone.â
Bettina folded her hands, looking down at where Rumiâs black tail now wound around her ankle.
â I was a virgin a year ago, besotted with this man. He brought me to live and work with him, he lied, telling me he loved me. And now I am stuck working for him, in love with him, watching as he romances woman after woman in front of me, and then when he is bored, he comes back to me for comfort and companionship. I do not have the strength to leave him. If I cannot have him, I want him to feel the same way I do.â
â60 deustch marks.â
Bettina sucked in her breath. Then pulled out her wallet, 60 was all she had on her, it was the most money she had ever spent on anything in her adult life. Golde stood and rummaged around in her cabinet until she pulled out a black candle, while Rumi jumped up and made himself comfortable in Bettinaâs lap.
âI do not need anything except his name. After I light the candle, we must hold hands and you will recite the fate you want to blight on this man. Understood?â
Bettina shivered as a cold wind blew through the parlor.
âYes, I understand.â
âHis name?â
âElvis Presley.â
The witch raised her eyebrow, but lit the candle never the less. She took Bettinaâs hands and began to mutter an incantation in a language Bettina did not understand. Maybe it was Hebrew, but she was not sure. Somewhere amidst the doleful recitation she heard the name Elvis Presley repeated a number of times. Then Golde stopped and raised her voice.
âOh spirits, we beseech you, hear this poor girlâs plea.â She nodded at Bettina to continue.
âCurse him with unrequited love, may he fall in love with someone who is everything he despises, a succumbus starved for sex and male attention who wants only to use him for his fame and fortune. Whose faithfulness will match his own. Whose betrayal will make him want to die. â
WHACK!
The front door blew open, and the rushing sound of the wind filled the basement, knocking over the lamp and making Rumi run under the couch on the other side of the parlor, mewling louder and louder. Golde did not flinch, she only gripped Bettinaâs hands tighter, calling out loudly.
âHere us, oh spirits, curse this Elvis Presley with the affliction of an unrequited love for a woman who embodies all that he despises, may she be the opposite of his ideal and break his heart. And when they meet he will only see her as a reflection of his ideal, his one true love, and by the time he realizes his mistake may it be too late.â
The blast of air circled them in a spiral that tangled their clothes and pulled up their hair, spinning and spinning around in a whirlwind until it blew out the candleâs flame. The front door thwacked shut. And Bettina fell back against the chair fatigued and almost unable to stand.
Somehow she summoned the strength to trudge back along the cobblestones to the house on GoethestraĂe. None of the guys were there when she returned, just Grandma Presley there to greet her with a pinched smile that made the old woman's cheeks cave in. Bettina thought about Mrs. Presley. Most days Grandma was her only companion. Guilt washed over her briefly for the cursing this kind womenâs grandson. But then Bettina thought of Heli and the wound that still ached in her chest from hearing the sounds of their love making this morning. She thought of Julia and Cynthia. She thought of the countless times Elvis had asked her to accompany him on dates as his translator. She knew many of the women he had gone out with better than he did. And then to find that he did not even care for her? It was too much to bear. Exhausted from a hard morning of casting spells, Bettina made her way up stairs and lay down.
It was well past 7 oâclock at night when she woke up again, and she was surprised to see Rex on the floor of Elvis room as she walked past the door.
âWhat are you looking for?â
Rex stopped, and stood. âI havenât been able to find my comb in days. Itâs a nice, ivory number, I think Elvis and the boys took it as a prank, they were with me when I bought it in Paris.â
Bettina gasped. âNo.â She faltered and fell back against the hallway. Her stomach dropped to the ground.
âWhat is it, my darling, are you ok? Even peaked, you are still the most beautiful -â
Just then Elvis bounded up the stairs, and Rex jumped back a mile.
âThereâs my sweetheart, câmon baby, need my best gal by my side.â Elvis hands were around Bettinaâs waist, cradling her into him as he walked down stairs, yelling back at Rex.
âLooking for something Rexadus? You didnât go and loose that fancy ass comb you bought in Paris already? You shudda seen him, Betty, made us late for our show that night, prancing round buyin that thang.â
Bettina nodded, half dazed. Her mind was racing as she pieced together the mistakes she had made over the last few days, wondering if there was any way to undo the love spell, to uncurse the curse.
She barely heard the doorbell ring or Elvis snapped at Charlie to go answer as he made his way to the piano and sat Bettina next to him as he played. She couldnât sit still, and began to fidget with her nails. Elvis pursed his lips, and was just about to give her a lecture on proper posture when something caught his eye. Bettina turned to see his friend, Currie, being led into the room with his wife, Carol and a beautiful, shy young girl with porcelain skin, dark brown hair and an upturned nose. Elvis whistled and stopped playing to stride over and introduce himself to the newcomer.
âHowdy, Iâm Elvis Pretzel.â He stammered out with an awkward laugh.
Bettina rolled her eyes as she watched him eagerly run his hand through his hair. The young girl blushed demurely.
âA pleasure, Iâm sure. My name is Priscilla. Priscilla Beaulieu.â
A response to the month-long writing prompt for Halloween/Fall
Summary: It's 1957, and Jan's dreams come true when she gets invited up from the gate to join Elvis' parties at Graceland. But not all that glitters is gold, and this new social circle may have a few angels and demons among them.
Warnings: No real smut, suggestions of sex, but there is a teensy bit of scary gore at the end.... so no minors and be forewarned. This was a new experience for me, I easily could have written about Elvis romancing ghost girlies all month, but I wanted to challenge myself. Not sure if it worked but... here goes nothing.
You can check out last week's Elvis-o-ween here:
Little Blue Toes
WC: 6.8 K
6:05 p.m. Thursday, September 19, 1957
Graceland, Memphis TN
The evening sun was slowly turning red when Jan hopped off the bus, and it burned orange circles into the back of her eyelids. She shook them away, distractedly nodding at the driver as she turned her attention to the crowd down the block. The rolling hills of Whitehaven were still a deep green in the fall, but Jan hardly noticed and clutched her purse as she got closer to the gate. She tried not to be too obvious as she craned her head to see Graceland from the back of the crowd. It looked smaller than she had expected, a grey matchbox on a hill in the dusky twilight. Jan told herself that she would have to come back on the weekend, now that she knew how easy it was to get here. Now that she knew, after reading that article in the newspaper, that his fans regularly gathered in front of the house. She could plan her trip out better than she had today. After reading the newspaper at lunch, she had impulsively jumped on the bus to Whitehaven after work. Feeling a pebble in her shoe, she was gracefully trying to hop on one foot and shake it out when two shadows loomed over her.
âSee, told you it wasnât Susie. Sheâs too dressed up.â
Jan squinted up at the girls in front of her.
âNo, uh, not Susie.â She straightened her skirt and hesitantly stuck her hand out, grateful for the excuse to talk to someone. âJan.â
âHeidi.â The blonde announced and tilted to the shorter brunette next to her. âAnd Arlene.â
âYâall regulars?â
âOh yeah, we come here all the time.â Arlene gushed. âWeâre just waiting for him to finish breakfast and give Travis the signal.â
Jan looked through the white wrought iron gate up at house.
âWhat do you mean, wake up and give Travis the signal?â
âOh, well, he sleeps through the day. Has breakfast round 4 or 5. Sometimes heâll come sign autographs at the gate, but -â Arlene leaned in toward Jan and her eyes twinkled. âUh, well, when heâs in town he likes us to be here in case he wants to have some people up for a party. He has parties most nights. Weâre kind of in his gang -Â OW.â Arlene grabbed her rib cage and hit Heidi back. âHey, what gives?â
âYou shouldnât be bragging, Arlene, cuz we can't bring her with us and now sheâll feel left out.â
Jan smiled politely, and tugged at the pearl button on her white, linen gloves. âItâs ok - I gotta catch the last bus back home anyway.â
Jan wanted to ask the girls what Elvis was really like in-person. Before she could, though, a loud gasp filled the air and she was pushed into them as the crowd jostled closer to the gates. A tall dark figure strode down the drive dressed all in white. White dress shirt, white sportâs coat, white pants. He looked like an angel. Jan was absolutely mesmerizing and dropped her purse watching his hair flop up and down with each bounce of his white loafers. The kids around her shouted out âHey Elvisâ and cheered, but she couldnât say a thing. She could barely breathe as her tummy flip flopped watching his mouth form into a crooked grin. She vaguely heard the other girls chatting next to her.
âI wonder if Anita Wood is up there?â
âNah, sheâs down in New Orleans at a beauty pageant, he told me last night.â
âYouâre so lucky you donât have a mom who treats you like a child, Arlene. What I wouldnât give to stay until 2 or 3.â
The gates opened, and Jan ended up right behind Arlene and Heidi in the semi-circle around Elvis. No one pushed or prodded to tried to sneak past the guard house. It was all very civilized, and a jovial atmosphere percolated between the open gates as Elvis went from person to person, signing memorabilia and teasing the folks he met. When he made it to Arlene, Jan watched in awe as he drew her to him and pecked her sweetly on the ear, asking if she brought him his favorite cigars like she said she would. Jan would give anything to be in his gang. She would bring him all the cigars and if it meant he would hug her and kiss her and tease her too. But when his blue eyes flitted over to her, she found that her mouth had gone completely dry and she couldnât say a word.
âWhoâs ya friend with the big brown eyes?â
âOh, thatâs Jan. Itâs her first time here.â
Elvisâ smirk deepened. âCat got ya tongue?â He winked, kissing the top of Janâs glove. âSâok, honey. I donât bite.â Then his teeth grazed over her knuckle. âMuch.â
Jan felt the air hitch in her throat at the way he looked at her from under his eyelids. She no longer needed her hand. He could have it. He could have anything he wanted.
Elvis chuckled. âWhy, youâre as shy as a mouse. Got anything for me to sign, lil mousy?â
Jan stuttered and fumbled about in her purse for something, handing Elvis the first thing she found. Her sweaty, monogrammed handkerchief.
âI didnât know I was coming today.â She whispered slowly, and her voice trailed off as she watched Elvis wipe his forehead with her hankie and pocket it with a wink.
âSâok, lil gal, bring something tomorrow.â Then he whispered into Arleneâs ear and moved on through the crowd.
Arlene snaked her hand through Janâs arm and led her toward the house. âElvis wants you to come up to the party with us.â
Jan squeezed Arlene with a giggle, smoothing her hand over her skirt as they walked. The house got bigger and bigger as they strode up the drive and Jan realized that the round curve of the hill created an optical illusion that made it look small from the road. But now she found herself in front of a grand, Neo-colonial mansion. Large, white columns flanked the front of the house, and two white marble lions stood guard at the entrance way. It was like standing in front of a magical castle. Jan felt that she ought to be wearing a silk, red evening gown instead of her belted navy shirt dress.
They did not enter the front door. Instead, Arlene led Jan around the front of the house towards the sound of music playing and people laughing on a patio surrounding a large, shimmering pool. There was a gay crowd of young people drinking pop and mingling around. Heidi adopted a hushed, intimate tone as she pointed out the others in the gang.
âThatâs Lamar, heâs always eager to please Elvis and does anything he asks - and so is Alan - the shorter stout one. That skinny little creep is Gene, and thatâs Mack, he usually drives us home. The guy next to him is Richard and thatâs Frances, our friend, Iâm not sure how she already got up here - â
â- is she going with Elvis?â
Arlene chimed in. âWell, heâs seeing a few girls. Thereâs a singer, Anita, who he steps out with pretty regularly. But me, Heidi and Frances, weâre just his friends. EP is a very physical person. Likes to love on all the gals. Thatâs just the warm, sweet kinda guy he is. Sometimes heâll pull me on his lap, and give me a little kiss.â
âLucky girl.â Jan murmured.
âMmm.â Arlene answered. âIâd rather be friends with him than date him.â
 âReally? Whyâs that? Donât you find him attractive?â
âOf course, Elvis is the most!â Heidi looked at Jan as if she had questioned the existence of gravity. âBut, well, once he goes all the way with a gal, he almost never wants to see her again. His dates come and go. But his friends, well, weâre forever.â Heidi exchanged a knowing glance with Arlene.
âLike Susie.â
Heidi clicked her tongue. âPretty sure Anitaâs got her knees sewn shut til she gets a wedding ring.â
âWell, I keep my knees shut too.â Arlene interjected. âI donât even know why any girl would want to go to bed with Elvis when they can kiss him as much as they want. There couldnât be anything better than kissing Elvis.â
Jan raised her eye brow, thinking of a hundred other things that she could imagine doing with Elvis. But she kept them to herself and smiled, hanging back to straighten the lines on her hose as the girls joined the party. She had just finished putting the right leg in place when she looked between her legs to find Elvis watching her. His cheeks flushed, and he bite his lip before walking over. All Jan could do was sigh as he grabbed her by the waist and introducing her to everyone around the pool. His guests, his housekeeper, Alberta, and then his mother who was just about to go inside. Mrs. Presley hugged Jan tightly and thanked her for coming to visit them, adding in a high, chipper voice.
âIâm so glad my baby is making friends like you, I can tell you have a kind heart, Janice. I really can.â
âNice of you to say, Mrs. Presley maâam. I like to think I have kind heart.â
âWhatâs this about a sweet lil olâ heart?â
The two women turned to find a petite blonde in the doorway behind them.
âOh Anita.â Mrs. Presley took the blondeâs hand. âI was just saying to Jan here, how glad I am to know her. She is a good, sweet girl. Iâm so glad you get to meet her, I thought you were out of town. Can I get you some food.â
The blonde smiled and licked her teeth, her blue eyes looked Jan over with a cool smile. âThank you ever so, Mrs. Presley, but I just ate and Iâm fit to bust if I swallow another morsel.â
Mrs. Presley smiled. âWell, I just know you two will be thick as thieves. Be good little babies.â She hugged them together tightly once more before saying good night.
Jan could not stop herself from staring at Anita. Her platinum blonde hair shone in the silver light and her short, busty figure filled out a tight, pink wiggle dress. Her creamy white skin was so radiant Jan would have sworn it was glowing and the contrast made her luscious red lips stand out all the more. Some of Anitaâs red lipstick had smudged around her mouth and on her front teeth, and Jan pointed to her own mouth to mime helpfully.
âWhy, bless ya heart, you really are the sweetest thang looking out for me. And youâre so pretty too. I could just eat ya up!â Anita squealed as she pulled out a compact and fixed her lipstick. âI cainât tell you how many other girls would just let me walk around looking like a fool all night.â
âTheyâre probably jealous, I, uh, heard youâre Elvisâ girlfriend.â
Anita pursed her lips in a tight smile. âSometimes I think everyone knows that âcept him. Excuse me.â
Jan walked back over to where Arlene and some of the other girls were huddled around a bucket of pop watching Anita stomp over to where Elvis stood with his arm around a cute redhead while Lamar told stories about the drive home from LA.
Arlene handed Jan a Dr. Pepper. âI see you met Anita, I could have sworn she was supposed to be at a beauty pageant in New Orleans.â
âLook, I think sheâs had her nose done.â Heidi gasped. âOr, well, something is different - she looks prettier than the last time I saw her. I wonder if there even was a beauty pageant. Maybe her plastic surgeon is in New Orleans.â
Jan looked at Heidi as she spoke. âYou donât like her very much, huh?â
âSheâs too possessive, and she tries to chase us off. You should have seen her trying to convince Arlene that she should go back to Chicago.â Heidi kicked the pavement with her saddle shoe. âToo bad for her, Elvis wants us here. And I plan to hang around as long as I can.â
Just then, the record changed on the jukebox and The Five Satins song. âIn the Still of the Nightâ began to play. Jan looked over and blushed when Elvis caught her eye staring at him. Yes, I plan to stick around as long as I can too, she thought to herself, looking down at her feet. The mischievous way Elvis raised his eyebrows at her made her feel funny and she couldnât handle looking at him for too long without grinning like a mad woman.
The night went on and Janâs whole body tingled from the heady mix of music, moonlight and raw, unadulterated exposure to Elvis under the stars at Graceland. Sitting out in the cool night air, caught between the twinkling night sky and the glimmering pool, Jan felt as though she had finally arrived. The evening had turned out to be more magical than she could ever have imagined. She hated to pull herself away, but she gave in at midnight and went to call a cab.
The kitchen was dim this late at night, illuminated only by the soft lights above the stove, and Jan finally found a phone book in a drawer under the cupboards. She was leaning against the counter, flipping through the pages when two hands startled her working their way around her waist. She glanced over her shoulder to find a dark mop of hair grazing her cheek. Then Elvisâ breath was warm on her ear.
âLooks like I caught a lil mousy.â He slowly turned her around to face him, grinning at the way she blushed. Then his eyes fell on the phone book and his lips turned into a frown. âAinât going, are ya lil gal? Why, itâs still early. Ainât had the chance to learn all ya secrets yet.â He winked as he said this, and it made Janâs heart melt.
She would have told him anything he asked. If she could talk, that is. It was difficult for to do that when she looked into Elvisâ earnest wide-eyed stare. She could hear the party out on the patio, there must have been over thirty people here who wanted to be near him. However, to look at his pouting lips and feel the needy caress of his thumb at her waist made Jan feel as though she was the only person in the world and she was letting him down by deserting him.
âI, um, I have to be at work at 7:30 tomorra.â She stuttered, staring at the floor just to be able to get the words out. âItâs time for me to turn into a pumpkin, I guess.â
Elvis rubbed her cheek. âAw heck, I guess thatâs sâok. Iâll get Mack to drive you home.â He paused, eyelashes fluttering down for a moment. âBut, uh, you canât leave before telling me a few of your secrets.â
âLike what?â
âLike, say, how old are you anyway, huh, lil mouse?â His thumb now rolled over her belt buckle, rubbing her stomach back and forth along the edge.
Janeâs face turned a bright, beet red as she stuttered out her response. âUm, Iâm 18.â
âIn school?â
She shook her head. âJust finished. I - Iâm at Goldsmiths, in the steno pool.â
âHate to think of these poor lil fingees, banging away all day.â Elvis took her hand, examining her fingers. âDidnât even know a department store needed a steno pool.
âUm, well, uh - weâre in the business offices on the 18th floor. Most people, they, uh, they never see us.â
âThatâs the only floor I wanna see, from now on. âspecially if all the lil gals up there are as cute as you.â Elvisâ ran his hand through his hair, smirking at the way Jan blushed even harder. Their eyes were locked for a moment, and his forehead dropped on to hers as he murmured in a boyish voice.
âSorry I didn't get to sign nothing for you, like ya wanted. Come back tomorrow?â
Jan nodded. Elvis kissed her on the cheek and put her into Mackâs car, leaving her with a mouth stuck open in giddy disbelief the whole ride home. She pinched herself at least ten times to make sure she was really awake. That she had really been to Graceland and met Elvis Presley. Then she fell asleep thinking of a pair of playful blue eyes glistening above her.
It was not long before Jan became a permanent fixture at Graceland. She would go home from work, change into a cocktail dress and take the bus to the Winchester Road stop. Every time Travis or Vester let her through the gates she would shiver with anticipation for whatever the night would bring. It was more than just getting to be in the sunshine of Elvisâ affection, though that alone was something she lived for. No, spending the evening at Graceland also meant trips to the skating rink, nights at the fairgrounds, bonfires, music, swimming or fireworks. It was like a never ending summer camp or a holiday resort, like the ones her cousins in New York told her about. And Jan never wanted to check out of this one.
During her days Jan would carry a little notebook around and write down clever things to say to Elvis that she thought would make him laugh, practicing them at her desk while she typed. She often was too shy to actually make these jokes. But she felt more confident just having them ready when she went over. It was usually past midnight when she got home, but Jan just doubled her coffee, determined never to miss an evening at Graceland.
That is, until a big storm hit Memphis the following Saturday.
Jan considered taking a cab over, and called a few of the others to see what they were doing, but she couldnât get through. The switch board operator told her the storm had knocked down several phone lines through town. Resigned to a night in, she had just made a kettle of hot tea and settled into watch Lawrence Welk when the phone rang and Frances told her Elvis was asking where she was.
The rain poured down on Janâs cab all the way to Whitehaven. As usual, the curtains were all drawn for the familyâs privacy, but tonight it made Graceland look more ominous and the exterior lights cast eerie shadows on a building with no visible life to the outside world. Buckets of rain poured over Jan as she ran from the car to the door, and she stopped at the mirror in the entrance way to try and fix her face. She hated driving in the rain, even as a passenger, she was on edge the whole time and unable to relax until she got to her destination. It made her feel a bit off tonight, and then she felt silly for feeling off. Why, she could hear someone playing a Dean Martin song on the piano, the house was filled with enough music and laughter to block out the sound of the storm, and there she was, feeling like a stick in the mud. She shouldnât have come.Â
Jan was distracted from her thoughts of regret when she noticed that someone had put their cigarette out on the floor, staining the beautiful white carpet that lined the entry way. She had just bent down to pick it up when she heard Elvisâ voice, and looked up to see him leaning in the entryway with a few members of the gang.
âSilly lil mousy, scared of a few rain drops. Havta start calling you fraidy mouse.â He leaned his head back and the others joined in with his laughter. âStead a fraidy cat, fraidy mouse.â
Janâs eye twitched, and she looked into the mirror. She looked like a wet rat, not a mouse, and she felt like a silly child. She didnât want to be here anymore.
âYouâre not being fair, Elvis, have you even been outside today? I donât have a car. And itâs a hurricane out there. If you thought about anyone other than yourself youâd know it wasnât easy coming here.â
Elvis eyes widened and he jumped back as if Jan had slapped his face. âNot fair, huh? Donât think of others, huh? I cainât believe my goddamn ears. Thatâs all I do. You know all you have to do is call and Iâd come get you.â His shoulders were back and his hands were at his hips as he roared to the ceiling. âAinât fair. aintâ fair. Well if you feel like that you should jus go on back home. No one wants you here anyhow.â
Jan could feel the tears welling up, and she ran past the staircase, through the kitchen and down to the basement so no one would see her cry. She had never seen Elvis loose his temper before. He could be cocky, teasing, oblivious, but now she knew what it was to feel the pummel of his brief, yet intense, bout of rage. Jan slammed her fists down on her knees, mad at herself for loosing her composure. She had immediately regretted what she said, and now she was sure that she had screwed everything up. Elvis would never let her come back. And the thought of loosing her membership in his special, secret club that she had only just began to experience brought forth another round of deep sobs.
Eventually, once she could breathe evenly without blubbering she found her compact and took a look and then promptly put it away. Her makeup was beyond repair. So instead, she began to think about how she could possibly leave without anyone noticing. Then she heard the floor squeak across the hall, and wandering toward the TV room to take a look. She stood in the doorway and looked around.
âHello? Someone here?â
âBoo!â Elvis jumped out from the projection closet and grabbed Jan, eliciting a high scream that ricocheted through the rooms.
Elvis grinned and licked his thumb to clean off her runny makeup. âSee, I was right. You really are a jumpy little fraidy mouse tonight. A pretty, silly, cute and wet lil baby mousy. Come on upstairs, honey, and letâs fix your face.â
Jan let herself slump into Elvis chest as he walked her up to his bathroom and sat her on the counter. Somehow Elvis had a drawer full of makeup, and she gave herself to him completely as he dried her hair and did her eye shadow.
âIâm sorry, Elvis. Bout earlier. I donât know why I said that, youâre one of the most thoughtful people. Itâs just. Iâm just.â She sighed. âDriving in the rain and storms always scares me.â
âAw, honey.â He rubbed her cheek, then puckered out his lips as a cue for her to do the same. âSâok. Cainât bare to stay sore at you. You know I ainât gonna let nothing bad happen to you, baby. Next time, you call me and Iâll come get ya. Youâll always be safe by my side.â
Jan nodded as Elvis drew her to him, holding her tight as he leaned in to kiss her forehead. He began to get a goofy look on his face, as if he might kiss her on the mouth, when Mack knocked on the door and pulled Elvis aside.
âEP, George just called about a story in the evening paper. I gotta tell you, right away.â
Elvis nodded at Jan to go back downstairs, where she found the other guests exchanging hushed whispers and nervous glances. Walking through the various rooms, she finally found Arlene, Frances and a few of the other girls with Gladys on the back patio listening to the rain thump against the green metal awning.
âOh Jan, we had to get some fresh air. Itâs just too awful for words.â
âWhat is it Mrs. Presley? Whatâs happened?â
Heidi took her hand and pulled her into the corner.
âItâs Susie, the police found her body in the woods off the Nashville Road.â
Janâs brow crinkled. âOh no. Oh no. Oh no. I never met her, but - but, ugh, how horrible. What happened?â
âThey think she was attacked by animal.â Heidi leaned in closer to whisper in Janâs ear. âHer heart was torn clean out of her chest. Mrs. Presley is very upset, she was over here all the time.â Heidi squeezed Janâs hand. Tight. âShe was one of us.â
The rest of the night was a blur. Elvis asked most of the guests to clear out before gathering the gang in his bedroom, where he cried openly and asked Alberta to bring them a coconut cake. Then they sat around eating on the bed, sharing their favorite memories of Susie. Heidi left at midnight, and at three Jan looked over at Arlene and Frances and asked if they shouldnât go to. Elvisâ soulful eyes looked over from where he was slumped across his bed.
âAw, donât leave me babies. I canât bear to be alone.â
Frances. âWhat, a slumber party with all of us in your bed tonight? What will people think?â
âFuck âem. Nah, people know yâall are good lil virgins, so who cares what they think.â Elvisâ eyebrows went up for a split second when Jan looked away at the word virgin. But if he thought anything of it, he kept it to himself.
The girls went into the bathroom to change in to some of Elvisâ pajamas shirts and get ready for bed. Jan cautiously asked if the others had ever slept over before.
âOh yeah. A few times.â Arlene handed Jan her comb. âItâs all very innocent. You know Elvis, he hates to be alone. â
Frances nodded, chiming in. âYeah, hanky panky is the last thing on his mind. Heâs proud that weâre good girls. And when he finds out someone isnât -â
âGosh I feel so bad.â Arlene looked at her self despondently as she finished rolling her hair. âI thought that was why Susie wasnât coming back. I thought she had seduced him in a weak moment, and then he couldnât bear to have her around anymore knowing she was fast. Boy oh boy, I guess I was wrong.â
âYou didnât know, who would have thought she was dead? Honestly, your theory was the most logical explanation.â Frances rubbed Arleneâs shoulder as they consoled each other.
Jan smiled sympathetically, feeling very awkward because she wanted to share their grief but couldnât, not really. She looked out into the bedroom at where Elvis lay in the center of his large mattress, staring off into space and wondered if he really banished girls after he slept with them. It seemed an anathema to everything she had learned over the last week about how kind and warm and instantly familiar and sweet he was with women.
Once they were ready for bed, the girls climbed in next to and Elvis he grinned a big crooked grin when Jan scuttled over to claim his right arm. The four of them cuddled in together, talking about Susie, and then musing about the things they wanted to do before they died. Arlene wanted to see the pyramids, Frances wanted to own a horse and Elvis said he wanted to go on a safari in Africa. When it was Janâs turn, she murmured that this was her dream, to have friends who loved and embraced her so openly. And then she hid her face in Elvisâ chest, blushing as the others cooed over her.
The rain continued, and eventually the conversation moved on to happier topics, such as what people probably eat for dinner in heaven. Spaghetti and meatballs, if Arlene was to be believed. Every so often, Elvis would lean into and start kissing the side of Arlene or Janâs forehead absentmindedly. Then Frances would claim she was left out and Elvis would make a big production of kissing them all. And then there would be another round of giggles and tickles and little kicks under the covers.
Jan wasnât quite sure what time she fell asleep, but when she woke up she was nestled into Elvis armpit and the others were gone. Thick black curtains covered the windows and made it impossible to know what time of day it was from the sunlight, at least. Jan hoped it was Sunday morning but she suspected it may already be the afternoon. Pushing her cares aside, she leaned further into Elvis warm body and moving her hand over the cool silk of his white monogrammed pajamas, trying memorize exactly how this felt so she could play it back in her mindâs eye when ever she wanted
âUh oh, looks like thereâs a lil mouse in ma bed.â
Jan felt Elvisâ lips on her forehead, and turned to see his eyes dancing under half open lids. She let out a little snort as she pulled herself closer to him, savoring the cozy cocoon of sheets, blankets and Elvis that enveloped her.
âI wonder where the others are.â
âProbably downstairs stuffing their gob, if I know Arlene.â
Jan swatted Elvis playfully, and he chuckled, stretching his arm out around her with a yawn. She sat up to read the clock on the mantle, and thought of all the little things she had told herself she would do before work tomorrow. Elvis grabbed her pulled her back into his chest.
âUghhhh, itâs almost 2 in the afternoon.â
âHuh, so, why hurry at this point?â He grinned and caressed her stomach, leaning on his side to hover over her.
âIâm glad ya here, lil gal. Glad we can comfort each other during hard times. An Iâm glad you been coming over, you one of my sweet lil girls now, Jan." He kissed her cheek, his lip spouting. "Now, you gotta promise you won't go on no dates when Iâm outta town, it would break my heart.â
Jan nodded up, her mouth hanging open. âNo, you can trust me Elvis. I wonât see anyone else.â
A lock of his black hair dangled over his forehead, and Jan flinched when Elvisâ hand moved over the low curve of her belly.
âHoney, you know you ainât got nothinâ to worry about with me, though. I would never hurt you, or do anything wrong to you.â
Jan nodded. âI know - I just - I guess Iâm just not used to being around men like this very often. But I like it. I like being around you.â
âHuh, well, thatâs good. I donât want you spending time with anyone else, lil mouse. You know I meant it when I say Iâm glad all you girls are good lil virgins. You know Iâm not like most guys, I respect you.â His fingers smoothed over the hair above her widowâs peak. âSo you ainât gotta worry bout that.â
Jan broke their eye contact and looked up at the dark blue ceiling.
âWhat - what is it, honey? Ainât nothing to be embarrassed talking bout, should be proud that youâre a good girl.â
âIâm - I.â Jan hesitated and met Elvis eyes as she rolled over the pillow and looked into the mirror, watching his face as he nuzzled his chin into her from behind. He ran his fingers over her matching navy blue pajama shirt.
âWhatâs the word, lil mouse? You know you can tell me anything?â
Jan rolled back into him, murmuring into the white lining above his collar.
âIâm just afraid you wonât want me around anymore. You - the gang - spending time here. Itâs the best part of my day. But I donât want to lie to you, Elvis.â Her voice got even lower and she trembled. âIâm not a virgin.â
Elvis tilted her chin up to meet his gaze. âYa not?â
Jan slowly shook her head. âBut - but Iâm not here to try to seduce with you.â
He let out a loud cackle.
âNo? Donât find me attractive, huh?â
âNo, I do. Itâs just that I know - I âve heard. That is, they say once a girl goes all the way with you, sheâs not allowed to come back.â
Elvisâ brows furrowed and Jan wasnât sure if he was hurt or about to laugh again until chuckle rang out. âWhat? Thatâs the stupidest goddamn thing I eva heard. How would any of those lil hens know, anyway?â
âI - I - I donât know, I never asked.â Janâs voice trailed off as Elvis chuckled into her cheek as he kissed her.
âWell, donâ worry baby, I ainât trying to take advantage of ya, virgin or not.â His hands roved over her sides as he looked deep into her eyes. âMan oh man, mousy gal, look so sweet and innocent though, never would âave guessed.â
Jan felt a tingly warmth start to coil in her belly and she gasped as Elvis rolled his nose over hers. He moved closer, his hand roving under her pajama shirt and trailing under her bare breast.
âThanks for not taking advantage of me, either way.â Jan muttered, slightly distracted by the nips at her ear and the succession of slow and firm kisses that followed on her neck.
âNaw, honey. Wouldnât dream a it. Furthest thing from my mind.â
Jan didnât know what would happen the next she arrived at the Graceland gate house, she half expected Uncle Vester to turn her away. But he waved her through, and she chided herself for being silly. Elvis was so kind and warm, she could never imagine him banishing her after what they had shared. He had been so sweet, so kind, so gentle. He had conjured a pleasure from deep within her that she had never experience before, and she felt as if she had only truly been with a man for the first time when she was with him. Still, as Jan walked up the hill to the house she vowed to resist the urge to experience that pleasure again. She didnât want to loose her friendships with the other girls. And so, as she stepped in the door and removed her coat and gloves, she swore to herself she would never go all the way with Elvis Presley. Again.
Solemn oaths, however, are so very difficult to keep. And Jan found herself changing her mind the minute Elvis whispered in her ear to sneak up stairs and wait for him in his bed room when Mack went to drive the other members of the gang home. Heidi, Frances and Arlene said nothing, but Jan could tell they knew something was up. They must, have, she reasoned. Especially once Elvis started picking her up and dropping her off himself. Sometimes he would take her home alone, but when he picked her up most evenings he would park and honk outside her ladies boarding house with some of the other guys and ask if they had any available rooms for Lamar. Jan caught Arlene staring at her out of the corner of her eye all the next week, and then Heidi trapped her on the landing that Friday.
âJust be careful. âMember: keep your knees closed, thatâs the only way to make it last now that youâre one of his girls.â
Janâs brow furrowed âBut weâre all his girls.â
âYou know what I mean, Jan. Anita is coming back from New York in a few days, I hope you know what you are doing.â
Jan swallowed hard as she watched Heidi descend down the staircase. Had she just been a bed warmer during Anitaâs absence? Was there a way to go back to how it had been at first, when the most she did in bed with Elvis was have pillow fights and tickling kisses? But then when he squeezed her hand and rubbed his thumb along the side of her palm she was powerless to stop herself from answering his silent call and going to wait for him in his bedroom.
It was Sunday, Elvis was going back on tour the next day. It was her last night with him and Jan ran out of her apartment the second she saw the winged tips on the back of Elvisâ white Eldorado outside her window. She slid down the banister and jumped off the end, soliciting a humpf and a stern glance from the boarding house matron at the front desk. Jan giggled. She couldnât help it. But her gait slowed when she noticed the single blonde bob in the driverâs seat.
âWhy hey there, Miss Janice, how are you?â
Jan frowned and leaned into the car. âLooking for me Anita?â
The blondeâs a tight fake smile grew across her face. Jan couldnât help but notice that she had bags under her eyes and the rosy color that had animated her creamy pink skin when they first met had faded. Anita no longer had that radiant glow, she looked sickly and pale. This didnât seem to dampen her energy, and she giggled and patted the seat beside her.
âCome on, honey, thought we could go for a lil ol drive, have a lil ol talk.â She winked. âYou know, girl to girl.â Jan sighed and rubbed her neck, looking around as she considered what she should do. What was the worst that could happen? Anita might yell at her, she might start a scene with Elvis later. Maybe Jan could stop her from doing that, could talk some sense into her or even convince her she was wrong. So Jan took a deep breath and got into the car.
âHow was New York?â
They made small talk as Anita guided her car around the block and drove further from the lights of downtown Memphis into the dark, black night. âIn the Still of The Nightâ came on the radio as the Eldorado made its way through the outskirts of Memphis. After a while, Jan stopped trying to come up with things to say, and awkwardly started to suggest maybe they should get back, unless there was something specific Anita wanted to discuss. Anita turned again to smile, and pulled the car on to the side of the road. She shut off the engine and Jan suddenly felt a tremor of fear rise up her spine. An owl hooted out in the woods, off beyond the shoulder. Other than that, there was no one around.
âI donât know what youâre playing at, Anita. I thought we were friends.â
Anita shifted in her seat to look at her directly, and Jan could swear she saw a flash of yellowish green in Anitaâs eyes.
âWhy you must think I was born yesterday, to be friends with a lil tramp that goes doing the hanky panky with my man.â
âI donât know what youâre talking about.â Jan whispered, her voice stilted and unsure as she blinked at the ground. She shivered when Anita scooted closer along the front seat and leaned into Janâs face, sniffing her cheek.
âHeavens to betsy, honey. I can still smell him on you.â
Jan began to mutter that was not even possible, but her voice trailed off and she swallowed hard in disbelief as she watched Anitaâs mouth grow wider and wider and her teeth extend into a row of sharp daggers. Jan tried and failed to find the door handle, so instead, she opted to crawl out through the open window. Somehow Anita ran around the front of the car lightening fast and managed to tackled Jan to the ground before she could run. Her small body had the strength of ten men as she held Jan down by her shoulders on the cold dirt that lined the dark road.
âPlease, please, Iâll stop, I promise. Cross my heart.â
Anita smiled down at Jan and her yellow eyes burned bright in the black night.
âBless your heart, thatâs just what Iâm after too.â
Then, with a flash of her smile, Anita ripped through Janâs chest with her teeth and devoured her still-beating heart in one gulp, savoring the way it throbbed down her throat. Janâs screams echoed through the forest and down the Nashville road, but there was no human around for miles and miles to hear them.
Heidi, Arlene and the others looked for Jan at the gate over the following days and weeks. Once or twice, they thought they saw her walking down the street from the bus stop, but they were wrong.
âShe must have slept with him.â Arlene explained, smoothing her skirt as they walked around the pool.
âI warned her, I said, once girls go all the way with him, they never come back.â Heidi tutted, looking across the patio and nodding her head at Anita. âGosh, she looks even prettier than the last time. Must have had more work down when she was âat that job in New York.ââ
âOh fooey, to hell with Anita Wood.â
OK, but seriously, look at these photos from before and after she started dating Elvis. You cannot tell me Anita wasn't gobbling up the hearts of innocent gate girls when Elvis wasn't looking!
Happy Elvis-o-Ween.......
I am working on at least one more or two more Elvis-o-ween fics so let me know if you want to be tagged. For now just tagging randomly. So also feel free to tell me to fuck off.
A response to the writing prompt "Fall or Halloween".
Comments, concerns and feedback very much appreciated!
like @be-my-ally I sat down to write this today and it got lengthy and I decided to publish it raw....
This is my first time writing from Elvis' perspective, and my first time delving into the supernatural genre... But I just had no idea how to write this story from any other perspective. I was very inspired by the amazing work @peskybedtime and @shakerattlescroll did a few weeks ago writing from Elvis' pov.
Big thanks to my elvis coven @ellie-24 @vintageshanny @whositmcwhatsit @missmaywemeetagain @arrolyn1114 @from-memphis-with-love @lookingforrainbows for their help and support in the fic writing world....
This story is very loosely based on Scotty Moore's history of this show where Elvis reportedly stomped off after four songs and skipped the evening gig.
Summary: It is the summer of 1955, and Elvis and his band are back on a grueling tour schedule. Their first stop out of Memphis is Batesville, AR. The crowd is not kind, the venue is uncomfortable, and so Elvis decides to take off and make his own trouble. Along the way, he comes across a young women who is having an equally bad afternoon, and they find that spending the rest of the day in each other's company might be just the solace they were searching for.
Elvis looked back over his shoulder at where Scotty stood, watching as the wooden platform they were on swayed up and down with the riverâs tide. This had to be one of the trickiest venues theyâd come upon this summer and the floating stage made it damn near impossible to move around the way Elvis liked to when he sang.
âA goddamn two-bit raft, is what this is, fellas.â Elvis spit to his right as he swore under his breath, and turned back to his mic.
They had only played two songs so far, starting straight away with "Thatâs Alright Mamaâ and âBlue Moon of Kentuckyâ to try and get the crowdâs energy up with. They still had the rest of this afternoon set and another one at 7, but Elvis was already drenched from his head down to his toes in sweat. Quite literally. His socks had soaked up the steady stream of water rolling down his legs, and it made his feet squish into his white leather dress shoes as he shifted from side-to-side to get his bearing. Thank god for this white lace shirt, he could stay cool and look sharp no matter how wet he got.
Not that it mattered how he looked, werenât a cute girl in sight. Elvis looked out at the crowd of people who had meandered over from the main carnival across the street. Most of them were older, farmers and their wives, and a few families. There was only a handful of young folks in the stands, but he figured, from the shrieks and laughter he could hear, that most of the teenagers were up at the fair. He wished he was up there too, shooting racing ducks or knocking down milk bottles, stead of singing for these frowning old fuddy duddies.
It was a disappointing follow up to their show at the Overton Shell the night before, half of Memphis had shown up after Dewey put out the word on Red, White and Blue. Boy, it had been a great night. Looking down at Dixieâs familiar face in the front row had been reassuring and made him feel at home, filling him up with the confidence he needed to back on tour for two months.
And boy were they kicking out off with a bang. Elvis frowned as he considered what a sad, sorry show this was to begin the tour. He didnât understand where their fans were. Sam had said their records were selling like hotcakes in Arkansas, and now that the Colonel was getting involved, promotion was supposed to be even better. But the way this audience stared back at him, heâd never know that he was making it as big as Sam or Bob or the Colonel told him he was.
Elvis ran his hand through his wet hair to get it out of his face, and looked over at where their manager, Bob stood, off to the side of the stage trying to smile encouraging. That fat fuck, booking us on this goddamn plank oâ wood in the middle of bum fuck nowhere. Bobâs smile got bigger as Elvis pursed his lips. This whole operation is a fuckinâ disgrace. He couldnât hear a damn thing once they started playing, the music evaporated out to to the concrete amphitheater across from them and he had no clue if his singing matched anything Bill, Scotty and DJ played. Sighing, he thought maybe it was time for a joke to punch up the crowd. So he hugged his guitar and winked at Bill.
Bill pulled his mic closer. âHey Elvis, you seen all the pretty little girls in this here town?â
âWhy sure, Bill, this townâs got some a sweetest gals this side o the Missâippy.â
âWell, this red headed cutie stopped me on my way on stage, grabbed my arm and said, âHiya, stud, how about a bite tonight after the show?"
Elvis mugged for the audience. âWell, whatcha say, Bill?â
âWell, Elvis, I said, Iâm busy after the show, honey, but I ainât doinâ nothinâ now.â Sosâs I bit her.â Bill followed his punchline with a big grows and a few gnawing sounds.
It was a good joke, it made Elvis laugh out loud every time Bill did it, but the crowd didnât seem to even register how clever they were. The barge creaked up and down, and Elvis took a deep sigh, announcing out the next song.
âWell, speaking a cute lil gals, this next song, friends, is a hit we just had called Baby, Let's Play House, I hope you like it.â
Elvis closed his eyes, blocking out the dull, blank faces in front of him as he tried to stay balanced, shaking his hips and bopping his left knee up and down to help him keep time with the melody. The stage ebbed up and down, so instead of pacing the front, or doing some of the moves he usually did, Elvis gripped the mic and leaned down to croon the final refrain.
Baby, baby, baby b-b-b-b-b baby, baby baby, baby baby baby, Come back, baby, I wanna play house wit yoooooou
A few little bitty kids started doing a square dance at the front, and he looked up to see one or two teens walking into the stands. But overall, the energy was dead and it was killing his confidence.
âUh, al right folks, we got many more good songs cominâ up, I jus know ya gonna enjoy our hit âI Don't Care (If The Sun Don't Shine).â Which weâll play in a hot second. But uh, well, we , uh we, uh - hereâs âGood Rockinâ Tonight.ââ
Elvis really gave it his all and said fuck it to the floating stage, wigging and thrusting his hips up to bolster his diaphragm as he dug deep to find the strength to scream into the powder blue afternoon sky. He opened his eyes, still hardly any movement from the crowd.
âWouldnât know a rockinâ tune if it hit them in the face,â he muttered under his breath, and Bill, sensing that the younger manâs mood was turning sour, started another joke.
âHey Elvis, you know that chick I was talkinâ bout ealier?â
âUh, yeah Bill? The one ya tried ta et?â
âYeah, well, youâd a think that a scared her off, but man, these Batesville babies, yâall are fearless, man. Fear-lessss. Why, she begged me to ditch yâall and go home with her right away.â
âOh man, Bill, whatcha say to that?â
âI said heyyy, baby, the heck are you begging for? You're old enough to ask for it.â
Elvis guffawed loudly, looking out at the audience.
âYouâre a good man, Billiam, teachinâ that lil gal some manners.â
The sun was in Elvisâ eyes and he couldnât see anyoneâs face, so he just kept talking, sure of his humor.
âHeck, yâall can send us all ya unmarried womenfolk and weâll do our best to teach âem somethinâ. Weâre stayinâ at the Wagon Wheel motel, jus down the street. Send any married gals who need a lesson our way too, we ainât picky.â
A man stood up in the front row.
âYâall should be ashamed, talkinâ filth like that out here. Ainât Christian! An it tâaint right!â
The sun started to go down, and now Elvis could see clearly as a few others joined the man to boo them. He looked over at Bob, then back at the band. The guys just shrugged, and Bob yelled out to try and calm the crowd.
âAw, now, the boy was just joshin, friends, just joshingâ now, so if youâll -â
âPlay in the âJailhouse Nowâ!â
âPlay some Eddy Arnold or Red Foley!â
âGo back to the city and your sinful ways!â
A fire started to pulsate up Elvisâ belly, he clenched his fists in anger and couldnât control the need to leave, right there and then, before he embarrassed himself in front of these people.
âAw, nuts to this, Bobbert.â Elvis pulled his guitar strap over his head and pushed the instrument into Bobâs arms. Then he grabbed his white sports jacket and jumped to shore, muttered to himself all the way.
 âGoddamn alfalfa farmers. Ainât ever cominâ back here, boy, you can bet dollars to doughnuts on that I guarantee it.â
His anger kept his feet beating the ground for a while, but the midday sun soon turned to dusk and with it came the cooling effect of space and time. Elvis looked up to find that he had stalked a good ways down the river, and the path he walked along was now all packed red dirt lined with tall prairie grass and trees. Regret settled over him, and he kicked a pebble around wondering how upset Bob was gonna be with him. Or the fellas. He hoped that they knew what was up, that they understood what a shit show this gig was. It wasnât his fault. He had done the only reasonable thing he could do if a crowd didnât like him.
After all, it was Bobâs fault for booking them on a floating raft at a stupid hick carnival in the first place. He looked at his watch, it was past 6, and they had a 7 p.m. evening show. Elvis clicked his tongue, wondering if he should go back to the motel or wait and show up back at the stage just before 7. Give Bob a good scare. These thoughts, however, were soon interrupted by a loud call for help from the river. A womanâs yell.
Elvis ran to the river bank and spotted the screaming woman, grasping onto a rock as she tried to stop the current from carrying her downstream. He ran over and grabbed her hand, then grasped under her armpits to pull her out completely. Her white gown was so heavy, with layers and layers of wet crinoline underneath, that it caused him to fall back on the grass underneath her. Elvis lay there for a moment, panting as the girl clung to his chest. Her short brown bob was plastered to her head, and she sputtered water all over him as she caught her breath. On her hands were a pair of long, satin evening gloves that were lined with rhinestones sewn along the ridge. Looking her over, he realized her whole gown was shimmering in the dark with rhinestones.
âLike a twinkling angel sent down just for me.â He whispered, unaware he had said it out loud until the girls lips curled in to a smile, and she pushed herself up.
âHa, youâre the angel, rescuing me.â She patted his chest. âAnd now I got you all wet.â
Elvis followed her with his body as she began to sit up, taking off his jacket and wrapping it round her.
âOh, it ainât no thang, miss. I like being covering in all your wet. I mean - I uh, well it - uh - it tâaint nothinâ is all. Here, you must be freezing.â
She giggled, as she drew his coat around her shoulders. âNot with you to warm me up.â
âOh, I can do better than jus an old jacket.â He put his hands at her waist, looking into her eyes as he began to rub her sides up and down. âThat ok, honey? Gosh, getting so dark out here, canât tell if you have brown or green eyes?â
âHazel.â
âWell, that splits the difference, donâ it.â
âHa, well, they are hazel, but thatâs also my name. Figured we should get acquainted, seeinâ as you probably already know my measurements.â
Hazel chuckled as Elvis blushed. âUh, well, they are some pretty fine measurements, if you donât mind me sayinâ.â
âNo, I donât mind. I donât mind at all, in fact, you could hold me all day, Iâm just so grateful you came along. Thought I was gonna drown.â
âYeah, hey, say what were you doing going for a swim at this time of day.â
âHa, dressed like this? It was not by choice, trust me - um - ?â
âUh, oh yeah, Iâm Elvis, Elvis Presley, pleased to meet you.â
Hazel looked down at where her lap straddling him and shivered. Their bodies were so close, that Elvis could feel the icy chill of her skin press down on him through his pants.
âShould I take you somewhere I can get you out of these clothes and in to someone warm, I mean into somethinâ warm?â
Hazel stood, handing him his jacket, as she stripped down to her sheer, white slip, tossing the soaking dress, crinoline and gloves onto the grassy hill near where they were sitting.
Elvis let out a whistle.
âHuh, I didnât mean here, but manâo man, you wonât see me complaininâ. Best show I been to all day.â
He stood up, wrapping her back in the now semi damp jacket, his fingers lingering at her waist, and then trailing over her cheek as he stared at her pale, white milky skin. It seemed almost iridescent Elvis in the low dusk of twilight.
âYou feel a little more dry, but still too cold. Wanna go back to my motel and warm up?â
Hazel nodded, and let him lead the way. Once they got to the dirt path, he told her to jump on his back, explaining he didnât want her lil feetsies to get all dirty, so Hazel perched over him as she navigated them back to town. It was well past 8 oâclock by the time he was sneaking her into his room, hoping that the others either werenât back, or didnât hear them. He looked at the clock and sighed.
âOh well, guess I missed that show too.â
âWhatâs that?â Hazel asked, as she made her way past his out stretched arm and into the Wagon Wheelâs bright orange technicolor western-themed room.
âAw, nothing. Say, you sure I canât take you to get some clean clothes, or shoes? You from here or jus - â
Elvis gulped and lost his train of mind as he watched Hazel sashay over to the sink and help herself to his toilette. He could see the outline of her white panties through her slip, and in the mirror, a set of pink nipples peeking through the front. It made him half aroused just watching her as she leant over the sink and used his make-up without asking.
âTrying to get rid of me? Donât you like the way I look?â Hazel simpered with a pout as she turned to find Elvis mouth gaping open in awe at her. He put his hands on his hips to look cool, but missed them completely, unable to find them because he was so distracted by her beauty. He rested them at the top of his thighs instead, which he told himself also looked very cool. Very suave.
âI, uh, um, uh - I. Course I think you look good, suga.â
He heard his words crack and paused to take a deep breath and deepen his voice. Reminding himself to be the ladykiller he knew he was. This gal was half naked and in his motel room, for chrissakes. Clearly, she dug him.
âI mean, yes, lil girl, you look good. Real good. Just worried bout how it will look like when I drive you home in the morning.â He winked and shifted from side to side, raising his eye brow and working very hard not to smile. Only dweebs smiled. Not studs like him.
âYouâre sweet, you know, Elvis?â Hazel grinned up at him, as she walked to his wardrobe, and, to his dismay, started putting on some of his clothes. âCan I borrow this shirt and pants? I love pink lace. Look, we match!â
âWell, yeah, baby, whatever you want, but I mean, uh, those are menâs clothes, and well, ugh, they might smell like my cologne or something. Sure I canât take you back to your place so you can at least grab something more ladylike?â
âNo, honestly. I bet there are a lot of folks running around looking for me, Iâd rather avoid the fray, if you know what I mean.â
Elvis walked over, as she hooked his pink striped belt extra tight so that she looked like a hobo, or pirate, the way his pants bunched up around her waist. Her slip was like a chemise, and with his white sports coat, Hazel was like Marlene Dietrich, but instead of a tuxedo, she was wearing his white suit with a pink, lace top. His fingers rubbed her side.
âYou ok? Running away from something? Someone?â
Hazel nodded, as his arms circled around her. âYou could say that. Iâm the Carnival Queen, I was supposed to arrive at the amphitheater down on the river -
âI am well familiar with that floating hunk o junk.â
âHa, well, I broke up with my fiancee yesterday. See, I decided I donât wanna get married, I donât wanna live in this town any more, and he does. He wants a wife, two and a half kids, the whole shebang. Anyway, he asked me to meet him at Stamperâs Bridge before the Carnival ceremony, and, gosh, boy did we get into it, I mean, we really had it out.â
âDid he push you in the river? Cuz if he did, Iâm gonna kill him.â
âNo. At least I donât think he meant to, it was all such a blur. But then, he didnât jump in to help me neither. Now I bet my family and half the town are running round, wondering why I didnât show up to the crowning ceremony.â
Elvis rubbed her shoulder, sshhhing her. He was conflicted between getting up and punching the wall, and staying there to comfort this sweet, helpless lil girl who fate had placed in his care.
Hazel buried her head in her hands. âUgh, it is all just so embarrassing. Rather just deal with it tomorrow.âÂ
Elvis picked her up and spoke softly to her as he put her on the bed and began to rub her feet. âMan, your little toesies are so cold, baby, they blue.â He kissed the top of her feet, blowing on them. âTa warm âem up.â Then he rolled clean, silky pink socks over them.Â
âReckon these white loafers are too big for you, but at least they match ya outfit. Must be weird, wearing menâs clothing for the first time.â
Hazel smiled as she folded the top of her pink socks down to her ankles. âThatâs ok. Suddenly I feel much more confident, like I could rule the world. Or understand math better.â
âHa! Youâre funny, you know that, lil Blue Toesies? These shoes do make me feel like I could conquer the world, though.â
She leaned closer to where he was kneeled between her legs. âYouâre a sweet guy, Elvis. Would it be ok - could IÂ - can I stay with you tonight?â
âSho, honey, you the boss.â Elvis leaned closer to her, nuzzling her forehead with his nose. âOh baby, why, youâre still cold as ice. Letâs go get you some food, any wheres âround here have good chili and hot coffee? Thatâll get ya blood flowing âgain. Or, I have some other idea - â
â Stop! Letâs go to Macâs Coffee shop, they have the best chili con carne in town.â
âWell, alright lil gal.â He intentionally used his deep, sexy voice as he stood, and his affect made Hazel giggle. âCâmon now, quiet ya cackling and show this hongry boy - I mean man, honnngry man, the way.â
The walk to Macâs was not far, but Elvis kept his eyes peeled for Bill, Scotty or Bob, because he knew that they would be pissed that he had stormed off stage. Then missed the second show. He could hear Bobâs voice telling him it wasnât professional behavior. Then heâd tell Bob what time it was, yes sireee, heâd set him straight. He just didnât want to have that confrontation now. In front of a lady. He squeezed Hazelâs hand tight, and nearly fell off the curb at one point when he was sure he saw Bob from behind as they entered the coffee shop. But heâd been wrong.
Hazel had been correct, Macâs did have the best chili con carne. The fact that it didnât have any onions, unless you ordered them as one of your fixinsâ sealed the deal for Elvis, and he licked his spoon with his last mouthful, then ordered two chili dogs and an side of fries.
âIâm a growing boy.â He smacked his lips and wiggled his eyes at Hazelâs and squeezing her waist.
The guy on the other side of the counter walked by again and gave them a curious stare, his eyes lingering on Hazel as if he recognized her, but wasnât sure.
Elvis nodded his head at him. âWhatâs his deal, he keeps looking over atcha?â
âI guess itâs not every day he seeâs a girl with my amazing taste in fashion.â
âYou do look good in my clothes.â Elvis smirked. âLook even better out of âem.â
âYouâre a naughty boy, Elvis Presley.â
Hazel pinched his knee, and their eyes locked in a tender gaze. It felt to Elvis as if they had been lovers for years, not strangers who had just met. She had an open heart, like him, he could tell. And a sense of humor. He almost asked her to marry him then and there. But then he remembered that Bob had told him to stop doing that on tour, it wasnât professional. So, instead, he had learned other nice stuff he thought made girls happy.
âGosh ya so pretty. Canât believe I met such a pretty gal today, this way. Feels bad to call it luck. But thatâs how I feel, Baby Blue Toes. Lucky.â
âAw, I - I bet you say that to all the girls.â
âOnly the pretty girls ones I fish outta rivers.â
âHa! You are funny. Youâre a funny boy.â She blushed as he swing his chair around to hit her knees against his. âWhat do you do, funny boy? Are you a traveling salesman?â
Elvis laughed and stood up momentarily, motioning to his outfit. âWhat about these clothes says traveling salesman to you, baby doll?â He pulled on his white lace shirt. âIâm a singer, me and my band, well, we were here performing at the Carnival.â
âEver on the radio?â
Elvis took a long sip of his coffee, eyeing the rest of the coffee shop. It was mostly empty, with another couple at one of the boothâs in the back, and then a Black man drinking coffee over on the side of the counter marked for âBlack Folks Only.â Elvis nodded when he looked up from his newspaper, then whispered to Hazel.
Hazel hit him, and squeaked. âYes!â The other patrons looked other, and Elvis grinned awkwardly. âIt came out last month, didnât it?â
âNa uh, baby. Why, itâs been spinning on the radio for over a year. Maybe you just ainât listened at the right time. Better late than never, I sâpose.â
âSing something for me?â
âHere?â
âWhy not? Youâre leaving town, youâll never see any of these people again. Could be the only night we have together. Why not, who cares what anyone thinks?â
Elvis shook his head, his eyes laughing as he jumped up, and walked over to the juke box with a cocksure swagger. Hazel laughed when she heard the opening of that old Mel Torme record, Blue Moon. Elvis leaned against the juke box and called out to her across the restaurant.
âBetter get that sweet little butt over here, Hazel, if you wanna hear me sing.â
Hazel looked at the guy behind the register, shrugged apologetically, and then jumped up to join him. Elvis took her hand, massaging it with his own, trying to get rid of the chill that lingered through Hazelâs extremities. Then he put his hand at her waist, and lead her in a small circle, swaying, as he sang along to the tune. Changing the words, of course.
Blue Toes, you saw me standing alone
With out a dream in my heart, without any wet clothes on
Hazelâs laughter was infectious, Elvis wanted to do whatever he had to keep her laughing. Her smile lit up her face, her whole body, and it didnât matter that she was only wearing a little mascara, with over sized clothes bunched up at her waist. She was the most lovely, ethereal creature he had ever seen. As they walked back to the hotel, he gaped in awe at the way her skin glittered like faery dust in the light of the harvest moon. They talked and talked as Hazel held his hand, leading him around the town square, pointing to the clothing store her family owned, asking him if he liked singing and what he wanted out of life.
Back at the motel, he closed the door softly behind them as a quiet nervousness worked up his back. He looked her in the eyes.
âEverythinââ
âEverything?â
âThatâs what I want, I reckon it sounds silly, but I growed up without much. Now, I want everythinâ I ainât never had. All the cars, jewelry, houses, girls - everythinââ
Hazel nodded. âMakes sense.â
âYou?â His face was shy, and he leaned against the door lock, trying to read the situation and his next move.
âI donât know. I just want to be in the moment. And right now, Elvis Presley.â Hazel put her arms around him, and closed her eyes. It made all the blood rush to his penis to have her lean on him this way, looking so innocent as she answered him in a breathy, low voice. âI just want you.â
He helped her take off his clothes as he carried her to the bed in her slip. âOh baby, I feel the same way.â
She tasted like chili spice and coffee, and her whole body shivered with a chill. Elvis rubbed her up and down, over her hips, her legs, the sides of her ribs. Then he crawled over her to warm her with his body heat, and his eyes closed as he felt her knee go up between his legs.
âGoddamn.â He muttered, grazing over it delicately at first, then grinding harder.
He cupped her face.
âAre you ok?â
âMhmmm.â
âTell me to stop, at anytime, ok, baby? Ainât gonna do nothinâ you donât want me to.â
Hazel nodded, her mouth hung open and longing animating her eyes. They were like two jewels affixed to the top of a beautiful, pale ivory tower. A tower he wanted to climb. Her skin was still cool, it and soothed the volcano boiling underneath his calm, steady visage.
Her lips twitched apart as his fingers delicately made their under her slip, and he arched his eyebrow in a silent request as he started to work her panties off.
Bill, Scotty and DJ must have just gotten back, because he heard a group go into Scottyâs room and begin pounding the wall before they burst into a fit of drunken giggles.
âDonât listen ta them, thatâs my band. Those jackasses is jus teasin.â
âItâs ok, itâs ok. I know what itâs like to have friends.â
Elvis grinned down into Hazels warm, inviting smile as his lips ghosted over hers. He could feel her lashes mingle with his and it was so perfect, he didnât want to spoil the moment, he wanted to remember her like this forever. So he took it slow. Pressing into her mouth gradually, stretching out this first contact for as long as he could. Then breathing into her mouth as it cracked apart, and sinking onto her bottom lip to caress over it back and forth, flicking the tip of his tongue inside.
His fingers slipped inside her labia, and looked around until he found her button. It made her moan out, loudly, even though Elvis was still awkwardly fumbling his way around the clitoris, trying to figure out how to touch it in a way that got her to moan out again.
âThat ok, honey?â
âUh huh, just, just a little to the left, softer, softer, oh god!â
He laughed in her neck, satisfied at his machinations, then sat back, spreading her labia so he could watch what he was doing. He spit into his hand, like Bill and Scotty had told him to do, like he had with other girls. The wetter the better, Bill had said, drives women wild the you get that button at the top of their cooch all slippery and fiddle with it.
âHowâs that?â
Hazel opened her eyes and looked up at him, her eyes rolling back as he moved his thumb back and forth on the side of her little nub.
âIt feels really good. I - I never had anyone touch me, not like this. Never had anyone ask how I liked it, neither. And, well, I never go to third base with someone I just met.â
Elvis kissed her on the check. âSâdestiny, honey. I was meant to find you today. Meant to make you feel good.â
Her hand went to his groin, and palmed over the stiff length she found there. She paused at his belt.
âI believe you were. How about you, Elvis, can I make y-y-you feel g-g-g-ood?â
Elvis stilled her hand. âYa are, honey, ya are. Doinâ this makes me feel good.â
Eyebrows furrowed in concentration, Elvis smiled as he found a spot that made Hazel quiver when he flicked over it, and around it, and back and forth beside it. With a tentative glance, upward, he bent down and parted her lips, kissing her public hair as he affectionately began to lick over where his finger had been. Hazel cried out, arching her back and thrusting further in to his face at the sensation.
Elvis laughed in to her as his hands moved to hold her steady. The succession of breathy moans his tongue elicited was so exciting, he could feel his foreskin roll up against his trousers. Diving between Hazelâs legs was like jumping into a cool creek back in Tupelo on a hot July day. It was sweet and soothing, and he chased the cool taste of summer that he found there, flattening his tongue against her as he worked to figure out how to make her moan out again.
He felt her tremble, and looked up to see her face contort in to a thousands states of pleasure. Watching her come undone and cry out her release as she convulsed around his head sent Elvis over the edge. He felt his own dam burst below where his hips rocked back and forth over the bed spread and shuddered his release into the side of his pants. Heaving, he collapsed into her waist while his hands now moved languidly over her cool belly and the room was still save for the sounds of their shattered breath.
The boys had obviously heard them and clanging against the wall again, crying out Oh Elvis! in high, falsetto voices.
Elvis grimaced as he climbed up the bed to lay next to Hazel and wiped his mouth on his arm before pulling her into him.
âTrust me, I am gonna kill those boys tomorra.â
She rolled on to his chest with her eyes closed and a big, sated smile on her face.
âAw, they love you, Elvis. They only tease you because they love you.â
âHuh. Maybe.â He soothed her head, and brought the blanket over them as they settled deeper in to the bed. âAw honey, still feel kinda chilly. Wish I didnât have to leave, wish I could stay with you forever, keep you warm. Weâre the perfect fit, you know that? Everyone always tells me I run hot, and well, you, you run cold.â
âI know you have to go. Maybe Iâll see you at one of your engagements. I think Iâm gonna move to Little Rock, ever go through there?â
Elvis kissed her head and wrapped his arms around her tight. âYou better believe it, go through Little Rock every tour. Wanna see you there, right at the front of the stage.â
He squeezed her to him even closer, enjoying the way she rubbed over his lace shirt as they drifted off to sleep talking about nothing and everything.
It was 10 or so the next morning when Elvis awoke to find his bed empty and the clothes she had worn strewn throughout the room. He rubbed his head. âDid she walk home barefoot? In a slip?â He muttered to himself as he changed his clothes and went to pound on the boys motel rooms so they could all go forage for breakfast together.
The men gave him a hard time, rubbing his head and asking how many little girls he had in his room that night. They didnât mention the performance, as if they had previously agreed to let Bob handle that one.
Elvis shoveled another mouthful of his biscuits and gravy into his mouth as he tried to describe Hazel to them. âYou boys donât understand, she was like an angel sent from heaven just for me. I gotta see her again.â
A waitress went by with a pot of coffee, and Elvis grabbed her wrist, motioning for a refill. As she clucked an âouch, alright alrightâ at him, he had an idea and spoke to her with a mouth full of biscuity sausagey gravy.
âScuze me maâam, you wouldnât happen to know the name of the Carnival Queen, would you? Hazel? Hazel sumpinâ? Folks own the small department store off tha square ova there?â
The waitressâ face went ashen and she shook her head before stomping away.
âWhatâs up her butt?â
The older man sitting on the other side of Bill leaned over.
âYâall must be confused. Hazel Stein was the Carnival Queen last year, and what happened to her was a tragedy. A damn waste of a pretty little girl.â
Elvisâ mouth hung open, and he looked to Bill and Scotty. âNah, canât be. I just met her. Hazel, you say, the Carnival Queen?â
âYup.â The old man nodded. âFell in to the river and drowned. Why, musta been a year ago yesterday.â
Elvis head spun, and he nearly choked. She had been real, she must have been. He could still smell her scent of summer on his face and hands.
so this is a one-shot, and I'll just take a stab in the dark at a tag-list. Let me know if you would like to be removed or added to one-shots or holiday/season whatnots and so forths.
