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stvolanis · 4 months

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BIRTHDAY BOY

(one shot)

PAIRINGS: Elvis Presley x wife! Reader

WARNINGS: tooth rotting fluff! Not proofread, clingy reader, no use of y/n, slight angst (Elvis thinks reader forgot his birthday), surprise party, kissing, pet names, the Memphis mafia been goofballs

NSFW WARNINGS: p in v sex, oral (m receiving), slight ball play ig?, light choking, hair pulling, daddy kink (duhh), cream pie, breeding kink, lingerie

sorry if I missed anything!! And happy birthday to the king of rock n’ roll<3

˚ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ˚

The entire day you and Elvis’ Memphis mafia have been planning is birthday party. His dad even started helping out.

It was going to be spectacular. You’d ordered a large 5 layered cake with buttercream frosting and strawberries, and written on top in cursive was ‘long live the king’ with a little 25 under it.

The house was decorated in head to toe with gold and white streamers, balloons, confetti, and any other kind of decor you could imagine fit for the king of rock n’ roll.

Elvis Presley had been gone for a week, taking on an acting gig in Florida, Miami. You missed him dearly, but you knew he was coming home today. Every time he called one of the house phones who would always chat your ear off on how much he wanted to see you. You’d think he had separation anxiety (he does).

The warmth of his voice on the line brought endless smiles to your face, and his amazing voice made giggles erupt from your throat. Everything about him shined, inside and out. He was beautiful, and a very charismatic man.

He had a certain feel about him. In a way where everyone would stop what they were doing just to catch a glimpse of him. He could hold an entire rooms attention and keep it, and sometimes he didn’t even realize it. People looked at him as if he were a god, and hell, maybe he was.

Elvis was a giving man. If you knew him, then you’d know that he shined so bright, he made the people around him shine, too. And to Elvis, you shined the most. He adored you. Every little thing about you was imperfectly perfect to him in just the right ways.

Elvis was a good husband, despite what people in the press have said. He takes care of you more than he takes care of himself, and he does it with a smile on his face and love in his heart that he only holds for you.

Elvis always told you that you were his angel. You were sent by the heavens to watch over him, guide him and love him for all he is after his mother died. You healed him and changed a broken, distraught man into the brightest star.

But you knew it was the other way around.

You found each other in a hopeless state, but together you overcame it and helped each other. Elvis was always kind to you, even if you two had petty little arguments, he’d always make it up to you by showering you in kisses with little ‘I’m sorrys’. How could you not forgive him when he was the sweetest man you’d ever met?

He remembered every anniversary. Every birthday. Every Valentine’s Day. He showered you in gifts, attention, dates, and never shut up about you in the press. You were sure interviews were sick and tired of him ranting on about how ‘good of a wife’ you are like a lovesick puppy, but it filled you with butterflies knowing he held you in such high regards.

Elvis was your person, and you were his. You’d known that since the day you met, and the day he popped the big question on a Thursday night in Hawaii confirmed it. It’s been bliss since you’d known him, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

But now, you sat nervously on the couch, biting down on your manicured nails nervously.

You hadn’t answered any of the 4 times Elvis has called you, and you knew he’d be worried by now. It was his birthday, and you felt bad because you didn’t want to upset him—but the surprise will be all worth it.

You wore his favorite outfit. A light blue, low cut dress that ended mid thigh, paired with black marry janes and white socks that sat a few inches below your knees. You also wore a white pearl necklace that acted as a light choker, and to top it all off, a silver chain sat secured gracefully on your neck that read ‘E.P’. A beautiful necklace your lover gifted to you for your 2nd anniversary.

But you wore a secret under your pretty little dress that Elvis would surely adore later tonight.

“Everyone, I just got word that Elvis is down the road, get in your places!” Gunner, a mutual friend of you and Elvis, shouted. You quickly took your place around the corner from the door, so you could be the first person he sees when he walks through the large entrance.

The lights were turned off and the room was silent as you heard booming footsteps come up the familiar stairs of Gracelands’ entrance.

You sucked in a breath of air as the door swung open, and you could already feel his suffocating presence in the house.

“Baby?! Where ya at?!” He yelled out, his voice laced with concern as he began to move towards the stairs, assuming you were in your shared bedroom. You giggled a little, and Elvis’ head snapped to your direction. You’d been caught.

“Surprise! Happy birthday, honey!” You yelled out, along with everyone else. Elvis let out a breath of air he’d been holding in for what felt like all day. No matter how many times he’s left home, weeks on end, you’d never gone not one day without calling him and tellin’ him all about your boring day without him around.

He drug a hand down his face with a groan, followed by a deep chuckle as your body collided with his in a tight hug. He kissed the top of your head, and finally, you’d felt his arms around you again. And it’s was as if all of his love visibly seeped into you.

“Was so worried, satin. Thought somethin’ bad happened to ya.” He huffed out with furrowed brows. You laughed as you cupped his face in your dainty hands. “Nothin’ bad happened, Elvis. Just wanted to give you a lil surprise is all.” You muttered as you brought his face down to your level, giving him the tenderest of kisses.

You tasted like vanilla on his tongue, mixed with cherry from the cherry lollipop you always had in your mouth. Elvis wasn’t sure how you hadn’t gotten a cavity from it yet. Your hair smelled like fresh rose water, and he knew it was from your annual bath-soakings full of the best rose petals money can buy and scented bath bombs.

You were warm against him, your small body molding and fitting perfectly against him. He loved you. God, did he love you. His baby. His love. His wife. The woman he plans to bear his children. He couldn’t get enough of you

“I got you a cake, Elvis.” You smiled up at him. You were the cutest thing he’d ever seen. Your smile was contagious to him, as he felt a grin spread across his face. “Yeah, lemme see it, baby.” He said.

You clapped your hands together, exited to see his reaction of the large cake, decorated to perfection. You took his large hand in yours and dragged him to where everyone else was in the dining room. On the table sat the cake, and Elvis felt his eyes widen at the mere heigh of it.

“Woah, that’s a lot of sugar, honey.” He chuckled out as he walked closer to take a good look. “Look at the top, El.” You urged. Like a good husband, he obliged and a chuckle rumbled in his chest.

“I love it, baby.” He said as he walked over and tightly hugged you, slightly lifting you off the ground in the process. “I’m glad! I hoped you would.” You said happily.

He didn’t have a chance to respond before the Memphis mafia swept him away from you. “Sharing is caring!” They yelled with loud boyish chuckles as they went to the pool room. Elvis mounted an ‘im sorry’, to which you merely giggled.

All throughout the night Elvis was occupied with his family and friends celebrating. You knew you shouldn’t, but you had to admit that you felt kind of neglected. In more ways than one.

He’d looked so unbelievably handsome all night, and you couldn’t help but become all hot and bothered as the night continued. You watched him play pool with his friends, his arms were exposed and fit. Elvis was no muscle maniac, but he had just the right amount for your mouth to start watering like a bitch in heat at the sight.

You finally built up enough courage to speak up about it as you walked over to where he stood in all his glory. His back was now facing you as you lightly gripped his arm to grab his attention, making him spin around to look at you.

“What’s wrong, baby?” He asked, his accent thick. You grew shy as his friends grazed in on the interaction, being nosy. You chewed on the bottom of your lip, and Elvis understood as he slightly leaned down is you could whisper into his ear. “M horny, Elvis.” You muttered, barely just loud enough for him to hear.

Elvis lightly hummed. “S that right?” He asked, and you nodded in confirmation. “Alright, don’t worry, sugar, I’ll take care of ya.” He stated.

“I’m done for the night, fellas.” He said as he tangled his fingers with yours, pulling you away from the group of men. They whistled knowingly, followed by a few hollers, making your cheeks flush red and bury yourself in Elvis’ side. He chuckled as his arm wrapped around you, walking up the stairs to your shared room.

He opened the door for you and flicked the lamp light on. “I got another surprise for you.” You muttered, shy under his gaze. He peered down at you. “Yeah? What is it, baby?” He asked, his breathing heavy.

You began to slide your dress off of your shoulders, below your breasts and down your hips before letting it fall to the floor beneath you. Elvis’ mouth watered at the sight and he felt his pants tighten uncomfortably, his slacks suddenly becoming too tight in his crotch area.

There you stood, in a baby pink lingerie set. Floral and lacy, nipples and pussy barely covered by flimsy fabric. Your thighs covered in garters with little pink flowers embroidered onto them delicately. What made Elvis go over the edge though, is when you turned around to show him your perky ass.

In cursive, sat nice and pretty was ‘Elvis Presley’.

He felt like he could cum in his pants right then and there.

“D-do you like it?” You asked, nervous at his silence. He scoffed. “Like it? Baby, i fuckin’ love it.” He said, spinning your around to face him before sliding his hands past your waist, down to your ass, tightly squeezing both of your ass cheeks.

You bit your lip as you looked up at him. “Yeah?” You whispered as his leaned down. “Fuck yes.” He muttered before his lips crashed down onto yours in a heated kiss.

It was sloppy as your tongues tangled with each other, you fighting for some kind of dominance that you knew Elvis wouldn’t allow. You sucked his bottom lip into your mouth, making him groan, biting your lip in retaliation. His hands squeezing the fat of your ass tighter, gripping you impossibly closer to him.

“Let me make you feel good, Elvis.” You breathed out against his lips. He merely clicked his tongue. “Hm?” He asked again. Your legs rubbed together, slick coating both of your inner thighs.

“Please let me make you feel good, daddy.” You repeated, more desperately this time. He groaned in satisfaction. “Good girl, go ahead, baby.” He urged.

You dropped to your knees and watched as he unbuttoned his pants, letting them drop to the floor. You licked your lips at the sight of his leaking cock, standing hard and ready for you in any way you can take him. He was long and girthy, balls hung, seemingly painfully full. Your core ached to relieve him.

You licked around his tip before licking his slit that leaked slaty pre-cum, and his hiss was enough for you to suck his tip into your mouth. “Fuck!” He yelped out as you sucked harshly, before taking him deeper into your mouth.

You bobbed your head up and down, your hands reaching to fondle his aching balls. If there was one thing you knew how to do, it was giving mind blowing, other worldly head. Your little mouth drove Elvis beyond crazy, wether it be for talking shit or having his cock in it.

His eyes rolled to the back of his head as you effortlessly deep throated his cock, and you felt him throb in your mouth. You gagged around him, making him throw his head back and let out a desperate moan.

“Yess, fuck! Just like that, honey. Suckin’ your husbands cock so well. Takin’ such good care of me.” He breathed out. You knew he was about to cum as his fingers found their way in your large hair, gripping tightly. “M gonna cum, baby. Shit.” He moaned out.

Your mouth moved to suck one of his balls into your mouth and your hand moved quickly to stroke his needy cock. Your hand moved fast, your fist tight around him. It was all too much, the way your mouth sucked his balls in like a vacuum and your hand stroking his hand at a quickening pace.

His cum spurted from his cock, and your mouth shot up just in time to get it in your mouth. You sucked his tip, milking him of all the cum he had stored away in his heavy balls. “Holy fuck, you’re so fuckin’ good, soso good f’me.” He said, mouth hung agape as you released his tip with a loud ‘pop’.

You opened your mouth, sticking your tongue out to show him the cum that rested on your tongue. He licked his lips and felt his cock harden again. “Swallow.” He said. And like the good little wife you are, you listened..

“Good girl. Now, getcha’ lil ass on the bed n’ bend over f’daddy.” He said as he helped you to your feet, slapping your ass playfully as you passed by him to the bed, making you giggle.

You bent over, legs spread enough so he could see the thin string covering your pussy that was now a darker shade of pink from your juices. “Look at you, all nice n pretty. All this for me, sweetheart?” He asked as he slipped the thin string to the side.

You nodded your head feverishly. “Yes, daddy. M’only wet f’you.” You muttered as you teased your ass into the air, pushing it towards him. He swatted your asses harshly, once, twice, before he lined himself to your entrance.

He teased his tip into you, making you groan. “Please, please, please—“ you chanted like it was a prayer. His hand snapped to your hair, leaning your head back. “You take what I give you, wife.” He muttered as he tenderly kissed your forehead.

“Yes, daddy, m’sorry.” You muttered out, gasping as you felt his cock enter you without warning. His tip kissed your cervix, and your mouth hung open, throat going dry. “Shit, so tight. Grippin’ my cock so good.” He huffed out.

“E-Elvis!” You whimpered out, the sting making your eyes water. His heart ached at the sound of you in any kind of pain. He peppered sweet kisses along your spine and on your shoulders in reassurance. “S okay, m’ gon’ take care of ya, don’t worry.” He whispered into your hair as he kissed your head.

Your stomach felt like it was doing summer salts and butterflies exploding in it all at once. You loved him more than words could ever describe and nothing in the world would ever change the way he made you feel, even 5 years deep into marriage, he still makes you fall in love with him all over again.

A wave of pleasure consumed you as you felt him re-enter you, picking up his pace at pounding into your throbbing cunt. “Elvis! Fuck! Just like that!” You moaned out.

Every time his hips slammed into yours, you released little ‘ahs’. The sound was like music to his ears. Knowing he was making you feel good, made him feel at least 20x better. If there was one thing he took pride in, it was pleasing his woman in every way he could.

“Gonna fill this lil pussy, you want that? Hm? Want me to fill you with my babies?” He asked, his hands gripped your hips. “Yes, yes, please! Need your cum in me, daddy!” You groaned.

He pulled out of you, flipping you around before re-entering you. “Wanna see you when we cum, yeah? Gon’ see ya beautiful fuckin’ face, honey.” He moaned out as he leaned down to press a kiss to your lips.

He was pussy drunken and his mind was fuzzy as your walls squeezed him in a vice grip. He didn’t know how much longer he would last. “Daddy! M’gonna cum, fuck m’gonna cum!” Your voice high pitched, and your head thrown back. Elvis brought his hand up to your neck, squeezing your throat just enough to make you see stars when it was paired with his piercing cock.

“Need you.” You whimpered out, grabbing at his free hand. A thing you did that Elvis thought was the cutest thing, and adored so much, was that every time you came on his cock, you made sure to hold his hand. It comforted you and Elvis loved it as he reached his high. “I’m right here, satin. Gon’ fill this cunt.” He said, biting his lip.

“Oh!” You moaned out as your eyes rolled to the back of your head, covering Elvis’ lower abdomen in your vile juices just as he painted the inside of your walls white with his seed.

He fucked you through your orgasm, and you could feel each time his cock spurted out a new round of cum inside of you. His balls tightening as your sweet pussy milked him, and all he could think about was how nice and round you’ll be with his babies. The perfect wife.

Your hand reached up to lovingly cup his face, leaning up to press a sweet kiss to his bitten lips.

“Happy birthday, baby.”

˚ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ˚

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#elvis presley #elvis presley fandom #70s elvis #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis presley x reader #elvis x oc #stvolanis #elvis presley x y/n #elvis x reader #elvis fans #elvis the pelvis #elvisaaronpresley #elvis the king #60s elvis #50s elvis #elvis music #elvis history #elvis presely smut #elvis photos

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starryschoolgirl · 6 months

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Responsibilities (of marriage)

Summary -> Even though the two of you may have a little fight here and there, Elvis reminds you that regardless of your feelings, you still have your marital duties to abide by, it's what holds a union together. Your responsibilities as a wife. And to keep him, you're bound to fulfill them because Lord knows he can have them filled anytime anyplace.

Warnings -> Jealousy, the brutally soft/appeasing nature of the reader can be annoying to some people, smut, p in v, possible dacryphilia, unprotected sex, sex in a house full of people(?), kitchen sex, entitlement to a woman's body, innocence/inexperience kink, threats of infidelity, dismissed jealousy, Elvis gets pervy with panties, ass slapping, outdated views on how marriage/being married should be, swearing, talks of 'breaking in' girl's vagina, repeated denial of sex, persuasion for sex, this is quite dubious at certain points

WC -> 5.6k

Edit: This is an installment of the Baby Love au!!

This could only have come to fruition thanks to the wonderful input of @yourfavoritedreamgirlblog, thank you Lovely for the help

As another song came to a wrap Elvis made sure to send a smile to every girl in the room, along with a few of the guys who watched from their places at the fold-out table they used to play cards on, having their respective girls on their laps.

Squeals of excited ecstasy left the mouths of the girls that surrounded Elvis as he sang one last sweet, drawn-out note.

This kind of night wasn't an unusual occurrence, Elvis often held jam sessions with girls there to praise him because for some reason your words and the words of his entourage weren't enough to satisfy his ego. It had started happening a lot more since you and Elvis officially tied the knot, not even a month ago now.

But tonight it wasn't in you to be the cool wife, to be just the wife. The wife who was sweet and unthreatened by the floozies Elvis would let into the house, into your home. A strange swirl of anger and sadness had been giving you a headache for the entirety of the jam session. It either stemmed from your waves of emotions, or it was the fumes of how much perfume these girls were spritzing all over themselves, filling your house with the scent of them.

It also didn't help that Elvis had been paying special attention to the girls tonight, usually he'd take time to look at you and smile at you throughout the session, but tonight he hadn't given you any attention.

Biting down on your wobbly lip, you watched from afar on the plush couch, Elvis sat on a stool a few feet away, his guitar sitting on his lap as a group of girls sat at his feet like concubines. The girls were meant to be there for the other guys, at least that's what Elvis had always said to you. Joe would go down and pull a few pretty girls from the gate of your California home and drag them up to the house so that they could entertain the boys.

As your nails dug little crescents into your palms Elvis' laughter boomed over the shrill giggles of the girls sitting at his feet, he then asked as he stared down at a particular green-eyed blonde,

"Got another request?"

Just then a different girl wearing a skin-tight green dress crawled forward slightly, putting her hand on Elvis' knee as she suggested with those big batting false lashes,

"Could you read to us again?"

Elvis smiled down at her sweetly and put his hand over hers as he purred,

"'Course Doll… And by the way,"

He went on about how pretty her makeup was done and that led to another girl clinging to his leg and asking coyly, "What about my eyelashes Mr. Presley? They're natural.", everyone in the room knew they weren't, even Elvis, but he'd feed into the girl's words because she was just so cute.

As the group continued to converse with Elvis' preferences being the focus, you bit your manicured nails harshly, feeling tears build up in your eyes as you watched this all go down in your home.

Your legs bounced nervously, but only seconds later a woman turned her head back to the sound of your heels clicking against the wood floor. Her stare wasn't nice or sweet, it looked closer to disgust. Your nervous habit came to a halt, not wanting to be bothersome to anybody even in your own house.

As her head turned back to Elvis her hair flicked with it. You pulled your nails from your mouth and let them rest in your lap, the paint on your pointer and middle fingernails was chipped. You'd have to fix the ugly mistake tonight.

Elvis' conversation with the girls came to a stop as he decided to fulfill the blonde's wish, and for the first time tonight he looked over to you with a hand pointed to the cushion next to you where he left one of his religious books,

"Honey, could ya grab my book f'me?"

You looked up at him with wide eyes and immediately stepped into action, grabbing his book gently and stepping around the girls who stared up at you with unreadable gazes. You mumbled quiet apologies as you tried to step around them to get to Elvis, you felt like an inconvenience, and you knew you shouldn't, but you did.

As Elvis grabbed the book from you, instead of smiling and mumbling a 'thank you', his eyes caught the imperfection on your nails. He grabbed your wrist gently and turned it so that he could get a better look at your hand, with a soft laugh he spoke bluntly,

"Your polish is chipped Honey,"

A few girls giggled along with his laugh, but you knew they weren't laughing out of love the way (you hoped) Elvis was. They were laughing because even the smallest glimpse of imperfection from a woman married to a man like Elvis was pathetic. It gave them the idea that they had a chance with Elvis. Little Miss Perfect made a mistake, so they had an opening. You felt a blush of embarrassment fall over your face and softly stuttered,

"I-I know, I'll fix it"

Elvis stared at you with a small smile, his thumb gliding across the smooth skin of your wrist as he mumbled,

"I think it's best ya do"

The attention on you at the moment was making you antsy and irritable. You just wanted to go back to being a decoration in the corner of the house. Something that no one but Elvis would pay any mind to. The uncomfortable feeling of having the eyes of girls you didn't even want in the house on you was weighing on your mind and your words.

You looked down at the tips of your heels and avoided eye contact as you quietly repeated yourself to get yourself out of the situation as fast as possible,

"I said I'll fix it."

His eyebrows lifted ever so slightly at his sweet little girl's tone, his grip on your wrist tightening just enough to leave a mark but not so much that the girls that surrounded you could see it. His smile turned patronizing as he tilted his head a little. He spoke through a breathy laugh,

"Shouldn't have chipped it in the first place Doll…"

The laughs of the other girls sounded like a soft hum as you stared at your feet, nodding in silence as you chewed your lower lip, feeling tears build up in your eyes once again. After he got your nod he let go of your wrist, but instead of turning to head back to the couch, you turned a different way, as you made your way through the girls in a different direction. As you walked you murmured a soft, "Excuse me", a quiet, "Sorry", and a shaky, "P-pardon me"

As you began to quickly make your way to the doorway that led to the kitchen you could hear Elvis ask, "Where ya goin' Hon?" and you continued without looking back or speaking, fearing that if you did he'd see your teary eyes and hear the cracks in your voice.

Thankfully the kitchen was a completely separate room, and though you could still hear everything going on in the living room, it was more subdued despite that the entry to the kitchen was open and free for noise to flow in and out. You sniffled softly and stared down at your nails, finally taking in the ugliness of the chipping at your polish.

You walked over to the medicine cabinet just above the stove, you were tall enough to open it but unfortunately, you weren't tall enough to reach inside so you had to grab one of the stools that were used as seating for the island counter, shakily standing on it as you continued to sniffle.

Your search for the nail polish remover was a hard one, maybe it was due to the tears that filled your eyes and made your vision blur, but for some reason, you were having such a hard time finding it that you hadn't even noted that the strumming of the guitar in the other room had come to a stop, and Elvis' voice which sounded like a soft murmur from here in the kitchen had now disappeared from the air, like the scent of your favorite dinner after everyone had taken their portion.

It was only when you felt the rough callouses on Elvis' hands and the rings that adorned his fingers run along the inside of your thigh that you realized he must've stopped entertaining the girls at some point and entered the kitchen. He looked up at you as you stood on the stool while his hand continued to knead at the flesh of your thigh.

Your lip wobbled as you looked down at him and you quickly used the back of your hand to swipe your tears away as you noticed a frown tug at his lips. He mumbled in plain confusion,

"Why ya cryin'?"

You sighed softly, disguising it as a breathy laugh as you shook your head,

"It's nothing"

Elvis' hand that caressed your inner thigh ran down toward the back of your calf, rubbing upward and downward twice before he spoke pointedly with an unamused look on his face,

"If it's nothin' why'd ya leave? And why didn't you answer me?"

You looked down at him with widened eyes and quickly closed the cabinet so you could put all your focus on him, feeling apologetic as you'd forgotten about that.

"I-I didn't mean to- I was just, I was embarrassed…"

Elvis' laugh was low and dry, complimented perfectly by his rough voice and tightening grip on your calf,

"You were embarrassed? How'd ya think I felt after my wife ignored me in front of a whole fuckin' room of people?"

You kept yourself from wincing at his tone as you looked away from him, realizing how inconsiderate your actions were, and remembering your mother telling you that the wife is a representation of the man, that she is responsible for his image, and that she should always maintain decorum. Hardly married a month and you'd already made so many mistakes, this was just another notch to the bedpost.

Your voice was quiet as you breathed out another apology.

A silence ensued as Elvis' hand ran up your calf to your thigh, slipping up even further to touch the skin under your skirt. You turned abruptly which made him lose his touch on your skin, before stepping off the stool carefully. Your eyes were widened as you looked scandalized by even the prospect of what he was silently proposing.

As he moved the stool out of the way to clear his path toward you, arms reached out and landing around your waist. You put both your hands on his chest, the force you could evoke from yourself was a small pathetic one as you whispered up at him, "No, no, no…"

He smiled down at you and licked his lips, his girl was so smart.

"No what? Hm?"

Each stride of his pushed his body against yours, the contact would lose for a second as you took a step back, but he would follow up with another stride until you were pushed back against the counter, you could feel the hard granite pushing into the back of you.

He knew what he was suggesting, he knew what he was imploring with those fingers that danced too close to the lace lining of your panties under your skirt. He just wanted to hear you say it, to say you knew what he was implying.

You, his sweet little wife, having only recently had her cherry popped by her husband, a girl who while she dated him wasn't all that aware of sexual cues until now. And within the span of a few weeks, Elvis had broken you in all nice and proper, he'd taught you how to take a cock, and he loosened you up enough to where sex could be enjoyable.

And though the wedding was almost a month ago, he still cradles the idea that his darling bride is still new and flimsy, inexperienced and innocent.

He wanted to hear what he was turning you into. From a virgin bride who needed to be gently introduced to her marital duties, to a fucked-out wife who knew her place and knew when she needed to fulfill her responsibilities. Whether those responsibilities take place on the plush of your shared bed, the leather of the couch in Elvis' dressing rooms, or the hardened countertops in the kitchen.

It didn't matter, it was your responsibility.

"E-Elvis, there are people, they'll hear…"

Elvis' grip on your waist had firmed up as he leaned down to press little kisses along the side of your neck. One hand rose to gently get a grip on your hair as he used it to pull your head to the side, giving him more access to the skin. He mumbled softly into the skin,

"Isn't that what you want?"

You breathed out a confused, "What?" as his kisses continued up your chin and then to your cheek. He pulled back and smiled down at you, both his hands cupping your cheeks in the gentlest of ways,

"As subtle as ya think ya are, it's pretty easy f'me to tell when you're jealous"

Oh no. He knew.

Your mother always told you that a good wife doesn't get jealous, she shouldn't anyway.

She's the wife and that's the spot that matters, a man can have girlfriends if he wants to. Because the only way to keep a man happy is to let him have his cake and eat it too. Men were simple that way, they were greedy and lustful. And your mother told you that no matter how hard you work, there comes a point when a man will no longer lust over his wife, his eyes will travel elsewhere and that's a given. But you'll stay around as long as you're pleasant company because men are greedy.

You looked panicked as you tried to deny it with a shake of your head, your voice frantically soft in the way your mother always spoke to your father,

"I'm not-"

His voice was sharp as he easily cut through your denial,

"Think I'm stupid or somethin'? I know ya want those girls to know you're mine. So I'll be a good husband and comply with your wishes."

It was all falling apart, you should've just sat there and dealt with it like a good wife. As you realized the bunch you got yourself into you began to try to explain yourself, only to have your thoughts get all jumbled as Elvis pressed his body against yours entirely, his arms trapping you against him as he wrapped them around your waist. His nose was buried into the crook of your neck as he began tugging the neckline of your shirt down, when it didn't comply he simply began ripping it.

"Elvis don't!"

He mumbled into your skin, sounding a little annoyed as he did so,

"Would ya just shut the fuck up"

You blubbered with your hands attempting to push him away by his shoulders, you needed to explain to him that you were fine with the girls, you didn't care, you could be the placating wife a man like him no doubt needed. You really could. So the two of you didn't need to do it now, didn't need to do it here for anyone to walk in and see. For the people just one room away to hear.

Your voice was panicked as you continued despite his scolding,

"B-but, I'm not, I mean- We can't"

As Elvis continued to attack your neck he spoke roughly into the skin, "Goddammit" and pulled away, pulling you by your wrist over to the island counter, center of the kitchen and as big as a dining table. You tried to explain your viewpoint quickly,

"People will hear, I don't, please no, not here, c-can we go upstairs?"

He kept a bruising grip on your waist with one hand while the other grabbed your chin roughly, making you look him in the eye. Your breathing was ragged, not from means of pleasure, but rather your fear of having a displeased husband, having done something to make him look at you the way he was now. You're sure what's in his eyes is anger, fury, disappointment, and dissatisfaction.

"Look Honey, I don't wanna be an ass of a husband, but if that's what I gotta be to make this marriage work, then that's what I'll be."

You stared up at him with fear of what being an ass of a husband entailed. Was he going to find a girl who'd let him fuck her in this situation instead? Would he do that? No, he wouldn't… Your eyes watered at the idea.

Your tone sounded hurt as you said, "Elvis…"

As your eyes continued to fill with tears Elvis' hands flew down to your hips, quickly spinning your around to face the island and pressing his groin against your ass. The surface was digging painfully into where your hip bones were.

"If I have to fuck you face down over this damn counter so that this marriage can keep on keepin' on, then that's what I'm gonna do."

You gasped at his statement and tried to maneuver out from between him and the counter, but that only led to him grabbing you by the back of your neck with a gentle, but firm grip. He pushed you down by the neck till you were completely bent over the counter. As the cold granite snapped against your temple and cheek you whined softly, "Elvis, can we please do it upstairs? Please"

Even in this situation, you were still acting like a good little girl, still minding your manners, talking sweet and soft.

Elvis gave you an ultimatum from behind as he shifted his crotch slightly, letting you feel what you were doing to him,

"I don't wanna fuck you upstairs, I wanna do it here and now, if you won't I'm sure one of the other girls will."

You stayed bent over the counter pliantly, chewing the bottom of your lip with an internal battle, Elvis' voice interrupting it as he asked,

"Now then, I'm gonna make this marriage work, spent too long breakin' ya in to have ya turn into some naggin' old, jealous prude of a wife."

Before you could say anything in response he was already hiking your skirt up to have it pool around your hips as he kneaded your ass. You let out a strangled yelp as the sharp sound of Elvis slapping your ass filled the room. Followed by another. he leaned over your body and cupped your chin from behind as he littered kisses down your temple and cheek, growling into the skin, "Go on Baby, let them hear you, let them hear what I do to you."

Another slap of your ass filled the room followed by a cry. You hated that you liked it.

Elvis pulled back to stare at your pretty pink panties, his fingers toyed with the edge of the thin fabric. After ample admiring he tugged the sides down, eventually letting them drop and watching as they fell to your ankles. He smirked softly as he watched your small clumsy feet try to step out of them.

"Atta girl, knew my sweet girl would come 'round"

You hummed softly, happy with the tinge of approval in his voice. Your actions showed that you could be the kind of wife Elvis could fuck next to a room full of people, but your body betrayed you as you trembled with anxiety from the thought of someone else coming in and seeing you in this state. Seeing you acting like a whore.

As you heard the click of Elvis' belt buckle you inhaled a sharp breath of nerves. And though at this moment, any spectator might think Elvis was just another self-centered man who thought sex was only about the man's feelings, you knew Elvis was thinking of you, that by having not even fucked you yet he was being considerate. He could have easily pushed you against the counter and had his way with you a few minutes ago.

And he showed his silent consideration of your feelings as he kept one hand on your lower back, rubbing soothing circles into the skin while his fingers on his other hand fumbled with the zipper of his trousers, pulling out his length and quickly spitting onto his palm just to rub himself up.

Had it been any other man the image would've been disgusting, but when it was Elvis it was different. Because your husband wasn't like any other.

His hand that once soothed you drifted down to squeeze the globe of your ass before traveling even further South as he used two fingers to part the lips of your pussy. A soft squelch filled the air between to two of you as he parted you, it was proof that your body wanted him just as much as his wanted yours. The noise left him to hum pleasurably, and you to press your red-hot cheeks into the cold counter.

"What's this? Were ya secretly hopin' I'd fuck you over the counter?"

You whined softly at his insinuation. Squeezing your eyes shut in distaste as he reasoned, "No point in askin' I guess, I mean-" His eyes caught sight of your discarded pink panties on the floor and he quickly reached to grab them, laughing softly to himself as he saw all he needed. He continued, bringing your panties down for you to look them head-on.

Your face flushed at the sight and as you tried to turn it away his other hand gripped your chin roughly, the rings pinching at your skin as he made you stare at your own doing, laughing breathily, "The answer to my question is right here ain't it?"

And it was. You didn't want to admit it, but it was all true. The idea of, after repressing your jealousy night after night for so long, of finally letting everyone know you were his and he was yours… It was such a romantic idea. And for you, raised to only get your rocks off on romance books rather than boys, romance was the most erotic thing of all.

His two fingers that parted your pussy's lips squeezed their way through the folds, entering a much warmer, more enclosed area. Your vagina contracted slightly at the sudden intrusions of Elvis' long fingers, you let out a soft breathy moan, it was quiet for the most part but had a high pitch at the end that could give away that not all was normal in the kitchen.

He spoke breathily at the noise, "Oh Honey," it was a giveaway that he'd enjoyed hearing that sound leave you. You quickly flung your hand over your mouth as Elvis' fingers curled within your heat, the squelching continued with each movement, the larger his movements were, the louder the squelch would be. It amused him.

When he deemed you ready he pulled his fingers out, running the white discharge that stuck to his fingers along his length, using it as a lubricant of sorts, but really, he just loved how lewd the idea was. His special times with you always ended with your skin getting stained with the proof of his satisfaction. So when he could, he loved to lather his cock in your proof of satisfaction as if it were the most purifying of body washes. You getting cum on your face and him watching it begin to slowly slide down your skin was lewd and he knew deep down you loved it, this was his equivalent, this is what he loved.

His head fell back gently as he tugged at his foreskin again, making sure to get your discharge in all the little cracks and crevices before lining himself up behind you. You could feel the tip of him press against your lips, despite all his experience he always fumbled around a little down there, in his defense there were a few things to look out for before he could land himself in the gold mine.

You tried your best to brace yourself, but there wasn't much to grab on the counter, it wasn't like when Elvis fucked you on the bed and you could cry into a pillow and grasp at the sheets, the best you could do on the counter was hold onto the edges, it was worth a try though.

As Elvis pushed into you he groaned lowly, the noise only getting louder the further he pushed in. You did your best to keep quiet, to keep your dignity, but it was only due to you beginning to stand on your tippy toes to stop Elvis from getting his natural leverage due to height into you, it soothed the burn enough to where instead of moaning loudly you got by with a soft cry that you did your best to choke back.

Elvis noticed this and leaned down, careful not to shuffle around in you too much. He kissed your shoulder gently and murmured into the skin, his tone and words sweet for the first time this evening, as he spoke he sounded the way he always did when the two of you were alone, his public behavior now wearing off as he tried to soothe his wife.

"I know it's still hard Babydoll, but this is the only way it gets better, c'mon, come down from the tips of your sooties, ya can do it Baby, I know ya can…"

As Elvis continued to press gentle kisses along your shoulder you slowly eased yourself down from your toes, but the tug at your inner walls and the burn that followed was too much. You fell forward defeatedly onto the island counter, raising yourself back up to your toes as you cried softly into the hard surface,

"It hurts Elvis..! I can't, I can't"

Elvis grimaced and looked up to the ceiling like he was asking the Lord for patience as the throbbing and twitching of his cock was beginning to tingle him painfully, he needed to move, but he needed you to be ok with that.

With a gentle hold, Elvis moved your hair to the side so that he could press a gentle kiss on the back of your neck. You could feel and hear him murmur into the skin, his voice patient yet stern,

"You've done it before Mama, we've been workin' so hard. Don't ya remember it only burns at first, r'member how good it feels after?"

You nodded slowly, he watched from behind and quietly hummed, "There, now let yourself down on me Honey, all the way." His hands settled at your hips as he slowly helped guide you down from your tippy toes, you winced softly as you continued, and he encouraged, "A-almost there Baby, that's right, there…"

His last word had drawn off as his head fell backward from being completely engulfed within your heat.

Pulling out a little was easy, it was the going back in that was hard as it put the both of you right back where you started with you arching back up on your toes and crying out softly from the familiar yet painful intrusion.

Elvis swore quietly, "Fuck's sake…"

Though you felt bad for being so bothersome, you stuck with your actions. You'd never done the act in this position before, all the other times you and Elvis had sex up until now, it was always slow, sweet, and soft. There was never any pressure, and you never had to stand up.

You stuttered out as you felt your poor little toes begin to tremble from supporting your entire body for so long,

"It-It's not getting better, it b-burns"

Elvis grunted and laid his head on your back as he spoke through a sexual frustration from being granted access to your pussy just to have it taken away once again,

"It will get better."

You were being such a tease, well not purposely, but it still wasn't something that would fly with Elvis. He knew how to cut through to you though, he knew his bride was such a sweet girl, such a people pleaser, that she wouldn't be so difficult under different conditions.

Elvis pressed his head against your back, his tone of voice low and breathy as he asked,

"Remember all that breakin' in I did for ya? How good I was? I was good wasn't I, mama?"

You wanted to sob as you were stuck in a predicament, if you stopped Elvis would think you didn't think he was good enough, but if you kept going you were certain he'd tear you open from the inside out, or at least rip the crevice of your womanhood, the idea made you grimace painfully as you thought about it.

As you ducked your head into your shoulder to try and stifle a cry, Elvis was there for you to lean your cheek against instead. It was romantic, the feel of your wet tears that glided down your face as if they were shooting stars, rubbing up against his much dryer cheek, letting him feel the struggle he was putting you through. Letting him feel what he was doing to you for once while you knew all too well with a hardened cock up your pussy what you were doing to him.

He hummed soothingly and clicked his tongue once, twice, before murmuring as he placed a kiss on your damp cheek,

"I jus' need ya to trust me Honey, same way ya did on our wedding night"

His kisses danced along your cheek and lingered on your earlobe, nibbling the edge softly as his hand drifted around your waist, landing expertly at your clit as if he knew your body like a map.

"Don't tell me ya forgot about that already?" He whispered as his middle fingers began to circle that special little bud down there, making your hips twitch ever so slightly with the sensation.

You let out an airy moan as he added his index finger to the circling of your most sensitive bundle of nerves, rubbing slow lazy circles as you felt the hot, wet edge of his tongue land on the skin just below your ear as he pressed gentle little kisses. His words were encouragingly sweet, "I've been neglectin' ya here, haven't I?"

Your hum was weak and broken as you tilted your head back, biting your lower lip,

"Mhm"

Elvis cooed softly and kept with his thumb's movement.

"Oh Baby, why didn't ya tell me?"

As the burn in your aching cunt loosened to a familiar warmth from Elvis' expert strumming of your clit your breaths became ragged and torn, just the small stroking of his fingers was turning you into a panting dog, a bitch in heat. With the warmth overcoming your pussy your body began to chase what it needed, your hips began to grind downward. The feeling of Elvis' length rubbing up and down ever so slightly within your walls as you continued to grind down what you could handle was a pornographic one.

As you could practically feel the shift of his foreskin within your cunt with each rise and fall of your hips, Elvis' hands now rested on them as he helped you broaden your movements, his hands squeezing your sides tightly as a low groan fell from his lips. "That's it, oh fuck…"

As his head fell back he brought a hand up to rest firmly on the center of your throat, pulling you back by it just barely so that your head could fall back on his chest. The breaths you both let out no doubt danced with each other in the air as you continued to grind down as best you could while his fingers strummed a tune on your clit which pulled the notes from your mouth as your breaths turned to airy moans.

Abruptly, Elvis gave a small thrust upward, the strength within the movement was enough to make you bounce slightly and let out an immediate moan of pleasure. You quickly flung your palm over your lips just for him to remove his hand from the center of your throat, now gripping your wrist and pulling your hand down to your chest as he murmured lowly,

"Let it out Honey, let 'em know you're mine, and I'm yours."

He began to grind upward into you slowly, working his way back to a thrust, each movement evoked a noise from you louder than the last, and as time went on the soft grinding of his groin into your ass as his dick plunged further up your heat turned to soft skin-to-skin claps with air between them. He tended to be loud as he chased what he needed.

He groaned into your neck as he pressed open-mouth kisses along it, your skin didn't even make a dent in minimizing the sound of his groans. He was loud and full of want, and as prudent as you were taught to be about sinful, sexual desires, it was the most liberating experience you could ever go through.

The smutty sounds of skin slapping on skin reverberated in the walls of the kitchen, stretching into the room just a thin privacy wall away. All the while Elvis was groaning and growling loudly against your skin, mumbling your name between groans and low moans.

His fingers kept their rhythm, so even in the chaos of Elvis' thrusts speeding and his body pushing yours against the hard granite of the counter to the point of bruising, he kept his fingers going just the way you liked. Your moans went up a pitch as you felt a feeling Elvis had introduced you to a few weeks ago on your wedding night, it was one you'd slowly begun to crave even when the two of you were doing something as simple as sitting in the car together. You could hold back and keep your dignity in those moments.

But now as the feelings lingered in your face and were oh so close, you felt like an addict who needed her high. Your voice cracked in a moan as you begged,

"Yes, just like that"

He growled breathily, his lips still dancing along your neck as his hips rocked into you from behind, his voice was breathy as he asked,

"Like that? Ya like it like that? Yeah?"

Your head hung back on his chest, your mouth open wide as your hips began to chase the sensations, "Yes Elvis, y-yes..!"

By now all the chatter that filled the house like background noise was completely silenced as the sounds of sex that filled the kitchen drifted into the other rooms. The air of the other room was awkward as your high-pitched moans which contrasted beautifully with Elvis' low groans were the only thing keeping the California house from silence. Everyone's assumptions were answered by the sudden increase in the volume of the skin-to-skin slapping along with of course your noises of ecstasy.

Elvis swore loudly into your neck, his voice reverberating against the soft skin,

"Fuck Baby!"

As he bit down roughly onto a rather sensitive spot your moans hit their height as you practically wailed, "Oh Elvis!"

And within the span of a second, that coil that played around ever so coyly in the space between your stomach and pussy had completely broken. Elvis' animalistic speed of rhythmic thrusts lost their rhythm and their speed as you felt a warmth like no other fill your body, his open-mouth kisses simply turned to his lips dragging lazily along your neck with a loud groan accompanying the skin.

His thrusts tampered down to deep grinds of his hips down into yours as you'd let out the heights of what your voice box could manage. Your mouth was still open wide but nothing leaving it as you'd reached nirvana.

Your body gave out as your legs trembled and you had to lean over onto the counter to support yourself. From behind Elvis' arms caged you against the island counter, his hands at either side of you pressed down onto the surface to support himself up. You let out a soft whimper as he slowly pulled out of you and fumbled around you from behind for a few moments, the familiar sound of his buckle could be heard.

Before you knew it his hands were on your hips turning you back around to face him, he was dressed, and in hand were the discarded panties of yours that he quickly shoved into the back pocket of his trousers.

Elvis' hands flew to smooth your hair back into place gently. They lingered on your temples as he leaned forward to press a kiss to your head, you closed your eyes in the process.

"You're so beautiful Honey, did so well for me…"

He quickly hiked your skirt back down to its proper length, and wrapped an arm around your waist, suggesting softly,

"We'll head upstairs for the night"

With the fucked-out look in your eyes he knew you needed rest and a shower. So he kept an arm around your waist and walked slowly with you out of the room. As the two of you passed the group in the living room you kept your eyes trained on the floor, knowing if you looked up, you'd only be met with looks of disgust from the girls that still occupied the floor of your living room, sitting around Elvis' stool as if it were a king's throne.

Elvis didn't spare them a glance as he only looked back toward Jerry and Joe, the two men were holding their cards without qualms at what they (and the rest of the house) were just exposed to listening to, as they'd heard that kind of thing more times than they could count coming from the two of you.

"Could y'all escort the girls out when you're done with 'em? Wife and I gonna be upstairs a while…"

With that simple statement, he helped you walk toward the staircase and kept a supporting hand on your lower back. Asking once, twice, three times, if you needed anything. You replied no.

All you needed was him, and that's exactly what you had.

And all the other girls knew it as a little something had fallen out of Elvis' pocket. It was hardly in his pocket to begin with. The boys wouldn't tell him, "Hey E, ya dropped somethin'" Because the boys knew the message he was sending to every girl in the room.

You were his, and he was yours.

Well, for my first time writing, I quite enjoyed that. Anyways...

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