Matt & Me🎀
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9
a story heavily based on Priscilla Presley’s Book “Elvis & Me” based in the 1950’s - 1970’s.
fem! reader x singer! matt
disclaimer!! - in no way am i saying matt would ever support or do these kind of things, for the sake of the book certain unethical things do happen at times.
warnings - drinking,, sexual references
y/nn = your nickname if your confused🩷
Chapter 8
After Christmas we did something exciting every night, usually beginning after midnight. Sometimes Matt rented either the Memphian or the Malco theater to watch movies. Other times he rented the entire Rainbow Skating Rink, the infamous roller rink I’d heard so much about.
My first night there I was lacing up my skates when the boys asked me, “Do you know how to skate?”
“Sure,” I said.
“But do you know how to skate?” they persisted.
I got the message real fast when a box of knee pads was passed around. This was not your ordinary around the rink to organ music skating. The idea here was to keep your bones intact.
I wobbled onto the rink only to wobble off. I wasn’t about to stay on that floor after seeing the determined looks on the other skaters’ faces. They made the Roller Derby look mild. From the sideline, I watched them rounding the rink, adjusting their jackets and shirts so they weren’t too tight and checking that their arms and legs were securely padded.
Then Matt skated into their midst, calling out, “Okay, everybody. Y’all clear the way on the sidelines. I don’t want anybody hurt over there. Honey, why don’t you get on the other side there with Louise [Gene Smith’s wife]. The rest of you, get your asses somewhere else.” They all started laughing, and he said, “Okay, let’s go!”
About twenty-five skaters locked hands, forming what they called a whip. Skating abreast, they began circling the rink, building up speed. The objective of the game was to remain unscathed at speeds of over ten miles per hour. It could be very dangerous if you were to lose your balance or if you were at the tail end, when, by turning quickly, they all “cracked the whip.”
There were a lot of falls, but despite the danger, Matt seemed to know exactly what he was doing. I noticed that whenever someone was hurt, he was the first to see if they were all right and to decide if they should continue to play.
I still don’t know how anybody kept from getting seriously injured, yet no one complained and most of them were even willing to do it again the next night. It was rough, but as Matt put it, “If you’re man enough to get out there, then you better be man enough to take the licks.”
New Year’s Eve was approaching. Matt told Alan to rent the Manhattan Club for the evening and to invite about two hundred people, Matt’s friends and the presidents and other members of his fan clubs.
Although I was excited about the party, I couldn’t help thinking that after New Year’s Eve I would have to leave. Matt kept telling me not to think about it. I noticed that whenever I mentioned a problem to him he’d just say, “It’ll all work out, don’t worry about it. I’ve got enough to think about without having to worry about that.”
He always avoided problems. If I was disturbed or depressed, or if I felt we were becoming distant and wanted to get closer by talking it out, he avoided me or told me my timing was bad. There was never a good time.
Once I reproached him about the attention he was lavishing on the girlfriend of one of the regulars. She was very attractive, about my height, with black hair and a nice figure. She had come into the kitchen, where several of us were sitting, and Matt, who was wearing dark sunglasses, began making comments like, “Boy, it’s getting warm in here. Anybody else warm?”
I was so upset I left the room. I waited for him to go upstairs, then followed shortly behind him. “Matt, I have to talk to you,” I said.
“Sure, Honey, what is it?”
“I saw the way you were eyeing that girl. It upset me.”
“Look, woman,” he said, losing his temper. “No one tells me who I can look at and who I can’t. Besides, your imagination’s getting carried away. I’ve seen her ass around here long before today.”
With that I stomped out, slamming the bedroom door. I felt betrayed that he’d even desire another woman and was annoyed that he’d never admit it. I became obsessed and watched what Matt liked, what attracted him, trying to be everything he ever imagined a woman could be, and more.
The New Year’s Eve party at the Manhattan Club started around 10 p.m., but Matt timed our arrival a few minutes before midnight. We just had time to order double screwdrivers when the countdown began. Then we all sang “Auld Lang Syne.”
As people shouted “Happy New Year!” Matt pulled me close and said, “Baby, I don’t want you to go back. You’re staying here. We’ll call your parents in the morning.”
I was in such a state of ecstasy that I didn’t notice what I was drinking: four double screwdrivers, all drunk through a straw. After one double, I was feeling high; after four, I was reeling. I went into the ladies’ room with Louise and stayed there for what seemed like hours, swaying back and forth in the stall, trying to get myself together.
When we finally returned to the table, I tried to act as if everything was okay, but Matt took one look at me and said, “Baby, we better get you home. You’re in no condition to be here.” He asked his old friend George Klein, the Memphis disc jockey, if he would take me home.
I spent most of the ride back to Graceland with my head out the window. George and his date walked me to the door, where we said good night, and I let myself in.
Gripping the banister, I slowly climbed the white stairs, shedding my clothing as I went: my jacket, purse, shoes, and blouse left in a long trail up the steps. By the time I reached the bedroom I was wearing only my bra and panties. I collapsed on the bed and passed out.
A few hours later I heard Matt tiptoe into the room and come over to me. His condition was not much better than mine. I could make out his silhouette against the ceiling above me. I didn’t stir. Gently, he took off the rest of my clothes. Then he kissed me and kissed me over and over. This night we almost went too far. His vow was nearly broken. My passion had gotten to him and under the influence of alcohol, he weakened. Then, before I knew what happened, he withdrew saying, “No. Not like this.” It had to be special, just as he’d always planned.
I have to admit that, at that moment i didn’t care if it was special and I didn’t care what he’d vowed. I didn’t care, in fact, what he wanted at all. I only knew I wanted him.
The next morning my head throbbed with a terrible hangover. I felt ashamed and embarrassed—and yet not at all sorry about what we’d done. He was a little closer to being all mine.
The moment of truth came when we called my father in Germany. Matt was on the extension in his office and I was on another phone somewhere else in the house. Though the connection to Wiesbaden was filled with static, there was no mistaking my father’s words.
“Young lady, I will not go through this conversation again. We made an agreement. You were to leave there on the second of January. You’ve got one day left and you’d better be on that flight!”
Matt interjected, “Captain, sir, if she could just stay a couple more days. I have to be back in L.A. soon, and it would be nice—”
“Matt, I can’t do that. She has to be back in school and that was the deal. I’m sorry. y/n y/ln, are you there?”
“Yes,” I answered.
“We’ll be at the airport. You know the time; we’ll see you then.”
I was furious. I flew into Matt’s office where, sitting behind his desk, he was just hanging up.
“I hate them. I hate them both,” I yelled like a spoiled child. “Why are they stopping us? They just want me home to babysit, to take care of the kids, that’s all.”
Matt’s face was flushed with anger. “We made a goddamn agreement—who the hell does he think he is, talking like that on the goddamn phone—him and his military upbringing.”
He grabbed the phone and called down to the kitchen, demanding, “Where’s my dad! He down there? Tell him to come upstairs to the office.”
Within seconds James was at the door. “What is it, Son?”
“Goddamn Captain y/ln,” he shouted. “We just called to see if y/nn could stay a few more days and he comes off with this cocky attitude and refuses with his jargon about making agreements.”
“Now calm down, Son. It ain’t that bad. He was probably just concerned about her being home in time for school.”
“School, what the hell do I care about school?” Matt snapped, ignoring James’s efforts to soothe him. “Put her into school here, that’ll solve everything. She doesn’t need school. Hell, they don’t teach you anything nowadays anyway.”
“Well, Son, she’s gonna have to go back, there ain’t no two ways about it, give or take a day or two.”
“Goddamn, Dad, you’re not helpin’ matters any,” Matt said, but he was beginning to calm down. He sat back in his big desk chair and swiveled it around to face the window, then gazed out toward the pastures. Finally he turned around and announced that he had a plan.
Matt’s strategy called for me to return to Germany and to arrive in good spirits, then to concentrate on doing well in school so that my parents wouldn’t be able to use my poor grades as an excuse for not letting me return. Matt wanted me to finish high school in Boston and to that end he would make arrangements for me to return as soon as possible.
Germany
Although Matt said that I should greet my parents with a friendly smile, from the moment I got off the plane, my attitude was one of defiance. I now believed that my parents were a threat to my future happiness. I didn’t realize that their fears and concerns were entirely reasonable. All that mattered to me was what Matt and I wanted, and no one was going to stand in our way.
The weather was cold and dreary, which certainly didn’t help my mood. I walked through customs to find my parents waiting. Noting my attitude, their expressions were cool, their welcome stiff. No loving arms wrapped around me, no loving words greeted me. Only my father’s abrupt order, “Let’s go.”
The drive back to Wiesbaden seemed longer than forty-five minutes. I sat in the backseat in icy silence. No one mentioned my request to stay at Graceland.
“All in all, did you have a nice time?” Dad ventured.
“Yes,” I replied, looking out the window at the clusters of trees bare from the harsh winter.
“Did Matt like your present?” Mother asked hopefully.
“Yes,” I assured her. “He loved it.”
“Was it as cold in Boston as it gets here?” Dad asked, keeping the conversation light, trying to make me open up and talk.
“No, it’s colder here,” I replied sharply, referring to both the weather and my attitude. Our eyes met in the rearview mirror and surprisingly, Dad looked away rather than reacting to my cutting remark.
I knew I was pushing my luck with them, but I couldn’t suppress my feelings and pretend that everything was all right. I was so deeply in love that chitchat seemed pointless—as did everything except for Matt. I remembered how he had held me before we said goodbye, with such emotion and need that nothing could keep me away from him. How could I explain these adult feelings to my parents who, I thought, could never understand and would think me silly or just infatuated?
When we arrived home Dad said, “Well, you’ve got school tomorrow, so try to get as much rest as you can tonight.”
Mom added, “You should have dinner and get right to bed.”
Did they both honestly think that I could slip back into the routine of ordinary life?
I rebelled against going to school. I skipped classes, went to town, and downed a few beers with whoever I could get to join me. My attitude worsened along with my grades.
My parents were as confused as any caring parents would be, hoping the problem would eventually go away. But I didn’t make it easy for them. What had started out as a simple introduction to the world’s greatest rock-and-roll star had turned into a nightmare for them.
Matt began calling me almost immediately, and we’d talk for hours. My parents heard me whispering and giggling till three in the morning and wondered what on earth we could be talking about for so long. Nothing really—yet it seemed like everything.
I began to reveal to my mother that Matt and I loved each other and longed to be together. Finally one day I summoned the courage to tell her that Matt wanted me to finish school in Boston. Her response: an unqualified no. She felt it could wait until my father’s tour of duty was over. That would be the end of summer, she said, and there was no need for me to return to Matt sooner.
“But Mother,” I pleaded, “you don’t understand. He wants me there with him.”
“Why you?” she asked, her voice thick with emotion. “Why can’t he find someone his own age? You’re only sixteen. What is this man doing to our family?”
She buried her face in her hands and began crying.
I did feel sorry for her. We were always close, she was always there for me, but this time she just didn’t understand. I hated seeing her in pain, but nothing seemed more important to me than Matt. Not even my mother.
“He’s not anything like you imagine,” I said, “and he needs me, Mother. I won’t get hurt. Please talk to Dad.”
Slowly she raised her head and looked at me.
“y/nn, I’d never forgive myself if I let you go and if you came back to us with a broken heart. You’re so young! You have no idea what lies ahead of you. All you know is you’re in love. Do you know how difficult that is to fight?” She sighed. “I wouldn’t wish this on any parent.”
She brushed away her tears and after a moment said, “All right, I’ll talk to your father, but not just yet. It’s still too soon.”
I gave her a big hug and whispered, “Thank you, Mother. I know you can do it. I love you.”
Now I had to wait for my mother to intercede. I knew how much my father was against the idea. My parents still didn’t really know Matt’s intentions toward me. They only knew what I had told them. But they had also read in the newspapers that Matt was dating every one of the female costars in his movies, so naturally they were suspicious.
One day on the phone I told Matt, “If you want me to come back and go to school, you’re going to have to talk to my father yourself.”
“Put him on,” Matt replied. “I’m not MacArthur, but I can sure as hell try.”
Drawing on all of his charm, Matt assured my father that if I was permitted to move to Boston, I wouldn’t live with him at Graceland but with his dad, James, and his wife, Angela. Matt promised to enroll me in a good Catholic school—he’d choose it himself—and make sure I graduated. He said I’d always be chaperoned and that he’d care for me in every way. Declaring his intentions honorable, he swore that he loved and needed and respected me. In fact, he couldn’t live without me, he said, intimating that one day we’d marry.
This left my parents in a dilemma. If Matt were as sincere as he sounded, there was a chance that our relationship might work out. But if it didn’t work out, they ran the risk of my returning to them disillusioned and brokenhearted. If they refused to let me go, I might never forgive them and I would bitterly regret this unfulfilled love for the rest of my life. In that light, there was little they could do but say yes, and eventually they did.
In truth, I was as mystified as my parents were about why Matt wanted me to come live with him. I think he was attracted by the fact that I had a normal, stable childhood, and that I was very responsible, having helped my parents raise my younger brothers and sister. I was more mature at sixteen than I was at fourteen, when he’d met me, not only because I’d gone through the normal growing period, but also because I’d experienced the pain of living without him for those two years.
Most of all, he knew he could depend on me. I wasn’t interested in a career, in Hollywood, or in anything else that would draw my attention away from him. I also had all of the physical attributes that Matt liked, the fundamentals he could use in turning me into his ideal woman. In short, I had everything that Matt had been looking for in a woman: youth and innocence, total devotion, and no problems of my own. And I was hard to get.
I intended to do whatever I had to to hold him, because if he had ever sent me home, it would have meant not only that I’d been wrong in going to him, but that my parents had been wrong for having permitted it. I firmly resolved to make our relationship work, no matter what.
Excerpt from: "Elvis and Me" by Priscilla Beaulieu Presley. Scribd.
This material may be protected by copyright.
a/n - do you guys like longer chapters like this?🎀
36 notes
·
View notes
Matt & Me🎀
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9
a story heavily based on Priscilla Presley’s Book “Elvis & Me” based in the 1950’s - 1970’s.
fem! reader x singer! matt
disclaimer!! - in no way am i saying matt would ever support or do these kind of things, for the sake of the book certain unethical things do happen at times.
warnings - sexual refrences, drug usage
y/nn = your nickname for any confusion🩷
Chapter 9
Matt sent two first-class plane tickets. My father took a leave of absence from his duties in Germany, and we flew off to Los Angeles, where Matt was filming Fun in Acapulco.
We stayed at the Bel Air Sands Hotel, and Matt was the perfect host. He’d pick us up in either a white Rolls-Royce or his famous gold Cadillac and take us on a sightseeing tour along the ocean to Malibu or into Hollywood.
My father was impressed with Matt’s hospitality, but not enough to forget why he was there—to talk about my education and my future at Graceland. Matt didn’t want to jeopardize the deal they had already made, and every time my father brought up my schooling, Matt would find a Hollywood landmark to point out.
“And over there, Captain,” he said, changing the subject as we cruised down Hollywood Boulevard, “is Grauman’s Chinese Theater. I’m sure you’ve heard of that. If you get out here, you can see all the stars of your era, their handprints and footprints. There’s Betty Grable, you remember her, don’t you? Marilyn Monroe, Kennedy’s friend, and if you look hard enough, you might spot Trigger’s hoofprint.” As my father stepped out of the car, Matt added, “I don’t think MacArthur’s are there yet, but I’m working on it.” We all laughed at the incongruity of General MacArthur bending over the wet concrete next to Jane Russell.
After a few days, my father and I flew to Boston and he and James enrolled me in the school Matt had chosen, Immaculate Conception, an all-girls high school, while Matt himself remained in L.A. to finish the film.
Before I left, he assured me that he’d be home soon and that he’d see me in a few weeks.
Matt and I planned to live together at Graceland eventually, but we’d told my parents that I would be staying with James and Angela, so when I arrived in Boston, I moved into their home. James assured my father that I’d be in good hands and not to worry.
The concerned look on my father’s face moved me. It was such a helpless look filled with doubts and fears about whether he was making the right decision. Only time would tell. He returned to Germany and I settled into my new routine.
In the beginning James drove me to and from school, where word of my identity soon leaked out. As I walked down the hallway, heads would turn and whispers would start. Once, a note that was being passed in study hall ended up on the floor. I saw my name on it and picked it up.
“Her name’s y/n,” I read. “She’s supposed to be Matt Sturniolo’s new girlfriend. If we make friends with her, maybe she’ll introduce us to him. Oh, God, wouldn’t that be neat!”
I didn’t know who the writer was, but I couldn’t mistake the meaning. The friendly smiles concealed intentions to get to Matt through me. Consequently, I was afraid to get close to anyone at school, and began to feel lonely and unhappy.
Living with James and Angela was also difficult. I felt out of place in their home, and did not want to be an intrusion in their personal life. I began spending more time with Grandma at Graceland, often staying all night, and gradually, almost unnoticed, I began to move in my things. By the time Matt suggested that I move into Graceland, I already had.
But living on “the hill,” as we called it, was isolated. The only people there were Grandma and the maids, and during the day, the secretaries, Becky Yancy and Patsy Sturniolo. Patsy was Matt’s double first cousin (her mother was Mary Lou’s sister and her father was James’s brother) and also served as James’s confidante. We were close, and after school I would go into the office to talk with her and Becky. But James felt my visits kept the girls from working and finally he put a sign on the door specifying: no one belongs in the office unless they work there, or have an appointment. I knew that meant me too, so I curtailed my visits.
There were other restrictions. I was told that I couldn’t have girlfriends over because strangers weren’t allowed in the house. One day, I was severely criticized for sitting under the trees on the front lawn. I was playing with Honey, the poodle Matt had given me for Christmas, when a friend of Angela’s drove up and told me that I was making a public display of myself.
Even at school, I felt restricted because James was still chauffeuring me there and back. Without my own car, I couldn’t leave the school grounds to take a drive at lunch or when my classes were cut short. At last I asked James if I could use Matt’s Lincoln Mark V and reluctantly, he agreed.
That evening I went for a drive. With the radio blaring and the windows wide open I sped down Highway 51 South, enjoying my newfound independence. I pulled up in front of Patsy Sturniolo’s house and said, “Hop in. Let’s go for a drive.”
Patsy introduced me to Leonard’s Drive-In, where we would spend at least one night a week when we didn’t go bowling or to a movie. But I went out less frequently when the two hundred dollars that my father had given me rapidly began slipping through my fingers. Matt had assured my father not to worry about money, that if I needed any, his father would give it to me. So, with gas added to my expenses, I had no choice but to approach James, as Matt had instructed me.
Hesitantly I walked into his office. I was nervous about talking to James, who had a sharp tongue and said exactly what he thought. Finally I said, “Mr. Sturniolo, I was wondering if I could have some money. I’m spending a lot on gas, which doesn’t leave much for anything else.”
“How much do you think you need?” he asked, his eyes narrowing suspiciously.
“I . . . I don’t know,” I stammered.
He thought for a moment, then said, “Okay, I’ll give you thirty-five dollars. How does that sound?”
Thirty-five dollars sounded fine at the moment, but it didn’t go very far, not with movie tickets, gas, and clothes to buy. Two weeks later I asked him for money to go out with Patsy.
“Hot damn,” he snapped. “Didn’t I just give you thirty-five dollars?”
“That was two weeks ago, Mr. Sturniolo. I can’t stretch it any further than that.”
He stared angrily at me and then his face softened.
“Well, I guess things can get pretty expensive,” he said, counting out another thirty-five dollars. “Now you and Patsy be careful driving out there. You know there’s a lot of accidents on that highway. Why don’t you call me when you get to the theater?”
At the time his caution surprised me, but remembering what Matt had said about Mary Lou, I knew that this was also typical of the rest of the Sturniolos. They always felt better if you called when you arrived at your destination and again before you left for home.
Matt phoned later that evening. In the course of the conversation he asked, “How are you doing on cash, Baby?”
“Funny you should ask that,” I said, mentioning his father’s reaction when I asked for money.
Matt started laughing. “That’s my dad. He’s always been tight. Getting money from him is worse than going to the local bank, even if you’ve got good credit. That’s why I have him taking care of my bills. Every penny’s accounted for. I wouldn’t trust anybody else. Too many thieves. Don’t worry about it. I’ll talk to him.”
I ended up laughing too. Matt’s sense of humor was contagious. He laughed about things that often wouldn’t make sense to anyone else, yet anyone around him would usually end up laughing too.
Unfortunately, Matt forgot to speak to his father. Rather than ask for handouts, I resolved to earn my own money. I began modeling part-time at a boutique near Graceland. When I told Matt about my job, he said, “You’re gonna have to give it up.”
“But I’m enjoying it,” I said.
“It’s either me or a career, Baby. Because when I call you, I need you to be there.”
I quit the modeling job the next day, which left me with very little to do. I started spending even more time in Grandma’s room. I liked being with her. She was always in her favorite chair, ready to share her loving stories about Matt.
Most of them dealt with his early years and the family’s struggle against poverty. Suffering and worry seemed to be the very fabric of Sturniolo’s lives. Any time Matt failed to call home for two days in a row, they worried that something terrible had happened to him in California. Matt’s enormous success and wealth notwithstanding, they were convinced that some misfortune was going to snatch it all away from them. Sometimes all this talk of suffering depressed me.
My only relief was Patsy Sturniolo, and I went to her every chance I got. But then Grandma complained that she was being neglected. She reminded me that Matt’s old girlfriends used to stay with her every single night he was gone. Torn, I couldn’t wait for Matt’s return.
I anxiously waited for his call. It usually came in the early evening.
“Hi, Baby. How’s my girl?” he asked, his voice bright and full of energy.
Happy to hear from him, I said, “I’m fine, Matt.” I tried to mention how lonely I was, but he cut in. “It won’t be long, Baby. Just a few more weeks, and we’ll be wrapping up.”
“I’m glad. I’ll be so happy to see you.”
“Well, then, let me hear some enthusiasm.” He began describing a silly incident that had taken place on the set that day, trying to make me laugh.
I wanted to say, “Matt, talk to me, help me get through these new experiences.” But I realized that he didn’t want to hear about my problems. He felt he had enough of his own. When he asked me how I was doing, I became very animated and said, “Just great, Matt. Everything is wonderful.”
But when we hung up, I still felt an emptiness. I began counting the days until he came home.
After several delays Matt finished Fun in Acapulco and headed back to Graceland. Still afraid of flying, he traveled with the entourage in his huge, custom-built bus, the same one we’d taken to Vegas the year before. At every stop he called Graceland with a progress report. “I’m in Flagstaff now,” he said. “Only a few more days and I’ll be home. How’s my Little Girl doing?”
With each day’s phone call I became increasingly excited. I awaited Matt’s arrival with open arms and a big smile.
Finally one evening he called and said he’d be pulling in around midnight. By ten o’clock, fans were already waiting at the gate. How they found out was a mystery. I was among a small group of his friends and relatives gathered in the living room. All of us peered impatiently out the large window facing the long circular driveway.
I had been hoping that our reunion would be intimate, romantic. But I could now see that it was not to be, and I wondered if Matt would be upset that so many people were around.
By twelve-thirty, the fans at the gate started shrieking and the powerful glaring lights of the bus swept the driveway. Matt was behind the wheel and smoothly brought the bus to a halt. He was the first one out and he came through the front door like a shot.
“Where’s my girl?” he called out, looking around for me.
“Hello,” I said. It seemed more like months than weeks since I’d last seen him.
“Hello?” he echoed in a mocking voice, coming up to me. “I’ve been gone all this time and all you can say is ‘hello’?” Then he lifted me into the air, kissing and hugging me. “God, it’s good to be home.” He looked around and saw his grandma.
“Dodger, you waited up for me too, bless your heart.” He hugged her and patted the back of her head. Then he greeted the rest of the household. Matt could be extremely affectionate, and this particular night he had hugs for everyone.
With his arrival, Graceland sprang to life. The maids started cooking, and the boys were talking, greeting their wives and girlfriends, and soon they were bringing in the luggage and unpacking it.
After being alone so long, I found this sudden intensity and energy overpowering. I stood amid the commotion, watching Matt go upstairs, as he called out to Pauline, “O Five, what’s for dinner?”
I didn’t know whether to follow him or wait. I didn’t want to appear too excited, so I stayed downstairs until I heard, “y/nn, come up here.” Then I couldn’t get up those stairs fast enough.
We had a few quiet moments together in his room. He asked how I was doing, if I liked school, and if his dad was taking care of me. I started to tell him everything I hadn’t been able to on the phone, that I had missed him, that I had been lonely, that I really wanted to find a job. Then I stopped myself. This wasn’t what Matt wanted to hear.
After a few minutes of talking about Grandma, he kissed me and said, “Well, let’s join the others and eat.”
When we got downstairs the rooms that for weeks had been so quiet were now filled with guests laughing and cracking jokes.
Graceland was—as local DJ George Klein put it—ready to rock and roll.
We had a down-home meal of pork chops, cornbread, home fries, and crowder peas. While we were sitting around the table, local friends dropped by to visit and to catch up on all the gossip about Matt’s latest movie.
“Goddamn, she was a big woman,” Matt was saying about his costar. “Body like a man—no hips, and shoulders broader than mine. I was embarrassed to take my goddamn shirt off next to her.”
“Yeah, but M,” Alan Smith kidded him, “she only had eyes for you.”
“No way, Son, not with John Derek lurking all over the place. I’d be goddamned if I’d start a conversation with her and see his possessive eyes glaring at me. You know he gave her a car, and on the steering wheel it said, ‘Baby, you’re indispensable.’ Head over heels in love with her. Never saw anything like it.”
I was surprised to hear how Matt was talking about Ursula Andress, the alluring sex goddess of Dr. No.
“Wasn’t she pretty?” I asked.
“Pretty?” he snickered. “Hell, she had a bone structure so sharp, it could cut you in half if you turned too fast.”
Everyone howled, including me. Matt’s stories went on for hours. Again I felt out of touch with the conversation and wished I had some colorful stories of my own. I kept wondering when we were going to have some time alone. My world consisted solely of him. I sat quietly, happily observing him. Whenever he winked at me or gave my hand a little squeeze, I returned the gesture, thinking, now? Does he want me to leave, so he can follow me? But then he’d lean back in his chair and begin telling another story.
It was almost dawn before he yawned and said, “Well, we better get some sleep.”
We all rose from the table. He looked over at me, smiled, and said, “Do I have to write a note for school saying you were sick today? Think they’d believe me?”
Everyone laughed—and I blushed.
He put his arm around my waist as we made our way up the staircase to his room. If I appeared cool it was because I was mindful of something he’d once told me: He detested aggressive women. In fact, I was ecstatic. I’m finally going to be alone with him, I thought. All the phone calls, the worrying, the anticipation, and the delays are now over.
I got ready for bed at least fifteen minutes before he came out of his bathroom. He counted out his usual number of sleeping pills and took them one at a time. “Why are you taking those now?” I asked. “You’ll fall asleep.” I had plans, and the last thing I wanted was for him to doze off.
“Don’t worry. It’ll take a while for them to take effect.” He handed me a pill. “Here, just take one of these and you’ll get a good night’s sleep. It’s okay since you’re not going to school this morning.” He cautioned, “I wouldn’t advise it on school nights though.”
I looked at the red monster, remembering my earlier experience with it. “It won’t knock me out for ten days, will it?” I smiled at him as I swallowed the pill. It gave me a nice feeling. My body tingled. I was light-headed but more in control this time.
Snuggled in Matt’s arms, I was happy to be near him, his warm body against mine. Because of the sleeping pill, I could feel my inhibitions dissolving.
“How’s my Little Girl been?” He was speaking very softly now. “I’ve missed her. Has she been good?”
“Yes, she’s been good,” I said. “But she’s been waiting for you. It’s been so lonely here. She couldn’t wait to be in your arms, and she’s been thinking about you so much.”
“Shhh, don’t say anything else. I know you’ve missed me. I want you to just be here with me now and don’t think about anything else. Let’s enjoy each other.”
I was aware of the distant hum of the air conditioner, the music from the radio, the soft glow of the dim lights. Gently and tenderly he began to touch me.
He was passionate and again seemed to be making up for lost time. I felt sure the night would end with Matt finally making love to me. I was drunk with ecstasy. I wanted him. I became bolder, reaching out to him, totally open and honest in my need.
Then, as before when we’d reach this point, he stopped and whispered, “Don��t get carried away, Baby. Let me decide when it should happen. It’s a very sacred thing to me. It always has been. You know that I want it to be something to look forward to. It keeps the desire there. Do you know what I mean?”
I sat up in anger. “What about Nicole?” I yelled. “You mean you didn’t make love to her the whole four years you went with her?”
“Just to a point. Then I stopped. It was difficult for her too, but that’s just how I feel.”
“That’s how you feel. What about me? How long do you think this can go on? God, Matt, that takes a lot of willpower. That’s asking a lot of another person, one who’s in love and has strong, healthy desires.”
“Don’t get me wrong. I’m not saying we can’t do other things. It’s just the actual encounter. I want to save it.”
Fearful of not pleasing him—of destroying my image as his little girl—I resigned myself to the long wait.
Instead of consummating our love in the usual way, he began teaching me other means of pleasing him. We had a strong connection, much of it sexual. The two of us created some exciting and wild times.
Excerpt from: "Elvis and Me" by Priscilla Beaulieu Presley. Scribd.
This material may be protected by copyright.
a/n - i think im going to start doing longer chapters🎀
23 notes
·
View notes