elvisgasm - Tumblr blog

elvisgasm · 2 months ago

Text

Manners

A/N: So I saw something in a museum when I was on holiday about curtseying and then like the weirdo I am my brain turned that into a fic. Enjoy!

Pairing: 73!Elvis x wife!reader

Word count: 2.4K

TWs: Reader calls Elvis Daddy and Sir, sub/dom themes, Elvis is teacherish, the cane makes an appearance, praise kink, Elvis talks reader through it, smut including a bit of a rough blowjob.

You stand nervously in front of him, fiddling with the hem of your skirt. You know he doesn't like it when you fiddle but you can't help it. He's been sitting on the couch, reading and ignoring you ever since he called you into the room what has to be at least five minutes ago, although it seems like twenty, and it's making you feel kinda awkward. Part of you wants to mumble your excuses and go back to what you were doing, but the rest knows that wouldn't be a good idea. He did call you in after all, so he must want something. You've always struggled to stand still though, no matter how hard you try, shifting your weight from foot to foot as your fingers caress the very edge of your dress. Impatient, that's what he always calls you. An impatient little girl. But you can't help it if waiting in silence for him to finish reading an unknowable amount of book is boring. You hate being bored. It baffles you how often he subjects you to it, actually. Considering you're absolutely certain that you mentioned it at least ten times.

“Baby, ya've gotta stand still. Yer causin’ a distraction.”

He hasn't even looked up, his eyes still fixed on the page. Or you think they are anyway, the shades make it hard to tell. You're sure this head hasn't moved though.

You bite your lip, hard, and let go of your dress. “Yes, Daddy,” you reply, trying to use the sharp pang of pain to focus your mind. You can stand there without shuffling. It's got to be possible. Those guards at Buckingham Palace don't move for hours, so a little girl from Kentucky should be able to manage a few minutes.

After what genuinely seems like forever, he closes his book, sets it to one side and moves his attention to you. You can feel yourself colouring as he looks you up and down, studying every inch of you. It goes on for far too long, and you start to worry about your hair and whether the humidity has made it frizzy, and then whether your dress has creases from where you've bunched it up to get it out of the way when you were scrubbing the floor earlier. Maybe your eyeliner is smudged, the bow in your hair is crooked, your nail polish is chipped. A million worries go through your head as he continues his silent observations. You wipe your slightly sweaty palms on your skirt and toss your head a little in the hopes of rearranging your hair. He chuckles.

“Can't keep still, can ya? Impatient lil thing.”

Clearing your throat awkwardly, you wet your lips with your tongue as you try to endure the intensity of his gaze without any more shuffling about.

“Sorry, Daddy.”

Looking down, your eyes alight on his black boots, shining from the polish you'd given them the other day. The memory of the way you'd done it makes your cheeks burn with shame, it's certainly not how your mother had taught you to polish shoes, and you briefly wonder what she'd think if she knew what your life was really like here. Just a nice country girl, thinking her daughter had married well, into fame and fortune and the Presley family. Having no idea the sorts of things he asked you to do on a daily basis. The sorts of things you enjoyed doing.

“Baby, I've been readin’ somethin’ that might interest ya.”

His smooth baritone interrupts your thoughts and your head whips up, eyes meeting the shadow of his behind the shades.

“Really?”

Another low chuckle. “Really. Book ‘bout manners.”

You look at him, wide-eyed, as he continues.

“Young ladies used ta curtsey fer their masters.”

Your stomach drops at the word master, and you can feel tingling between your legs.

“They did?” You breathe.

A grin spreads lazily across his face. “They sure did, honey. Thought ya might like ta learn how.” He's leaning back against the couch in that self-assured way he has, hands resting on his spread thighs.

“Yessir,” you reply, sensing the slight change in atmosphere.

His grin gets somehow wider at the use of the honorific, and he opens the book back to the page he’d just been looking at, holding it up for you to see.

“Alright then. Feet out ta the sides like this, baby.” Tapping the picture in the middle of the page with his index finger.

You shift your feet out as far as you can, then put your hands behind your back as he tells you. He nods his approval, reaching for his cane, which you somehow hadn’t noticed had been propped up against the couch this whole time. You’d been too busy looking at him. You might’ve been bored, but his attention was all you wanted.

“Bend yer knees,” he continues, tapping one with the end of the cane. “That’s it. Keep bendin’ ‘em honey. Keep goin’. Very nice. Now straighten up again.”

You do as you’re told, springing back to an upright position with your legs straight. His teeth seem to gleam as he grins again.

“Very good. Again.”

You weren’t really expecting to have to do it again, but you repeat the movement as he gets up from the couch to stand in front of you, watching you bob down and back up.

“Don’t stop, honey.”

Slightly flustered, you curtsey again, trying not to move your head to follow him as he starts to walk around you, looking at you from all angles.

“Straighten up, honey.” A tap to your lower back with the head of the cane. “Keep yer chin up.” His fingers under your chin, pushing firmly. “No stickin’ that lil bottom of yours out, now. Keep goin’ straight up an’ down.” He taps your ass with the cane, just hard enough to make you flinch. To make you remember other times he’s tapped you not quite so lightly.

Your quads are starting to ache from the movement, and you feel the start of sweat beading on your brow too. His warm breath on the back of your neck as he talks you through what he wants you to do, praising you when you’re getting it right, the smell of him… it’s driving you crazy, wanting his lips pressed up against yours, his tongue in your mouth. You feel something hard nudge your hip as he leans closer, whispering that you should be looking straight ahead as you dip down for what seems like the hundredth time. A sharp little exhale gives away your discomfort and he smiles to himself as he asks you for just one more, one more perfect one for Daddy.

“Yessir.” Your voice is hoarse, lust-filled.

“Oh that’s my good girl,” he coos. “Ya can stop now.”

Your legs tremble as you stand there, watching him move back to the couch, his legs splayed and his obvious hard-on on display for you. The idea that you’ve got him so excited makes you giddy.

“Well, I think ya got it down, baby,” he tells you, with a wink as he removes his shades. “Think ya deserve a reward. Whaddya want?”

You can barely tear your eyes away from that big bulge in his pants and you can’t think of anything else but how much you want his dick in your mouth right now.

“Can I suck you?”

He blinks, that’s not the answer he was expecting at all, but surprise is soon followed by delight. What a good girl you are. “Such a fuckin’ good girl,” he murmurs, undoing his belt. “So good fer me.” He gestures for you to kneel between his legs. “Don’t deserve ya, baby.” Unzipping his pants and freeing his aching dick. “C’mere.”

You shuffle closer, opening your mouth obediently, feeling it water at the sight of him. He gently eases the tip between your lips, pumping it slowly as you run your tongue around the head, enjoying the sound of him moaning softly. As you start to take more of him, you look up to see him reaching for a cigar and lighting it, taking a long drag. His hand cups your cheek and he softly encourages you until his whole dick has disappeared inside your mouth, puffs of cigar smoke enveloping you both. His fingers continue to caress your cheek, murmurs of praise and encouragement falling from his lips as he grips the cigar between his teeth and adds his other hand to your face, holding you oh-so-gently while his hips start to thrust upwards, the end of his dick nudging the back of your throat and making you gag.

Your eyes water, and feeling your stomach clench you shift to get a better angle, one that gives him a clearer route to fuck your throat, hands demurely resting behind your back. Groaning at the sight of you and the feeling of tightness all around him, his fingers knit into your hair, hips snapping now, trying to hold back so as to avoid hurting his princess, but failing a little more with every movement.

“Yer so goddamn perfect, baby,” he mumbles around the cigar, still trapped between his teeth. “Gonna cum right in that perfect little mouth a yours.”

Your watery eyes look up at him, lost in pleasure, you can tell he’s only a few strokes away from completion. You love watching him like this, out of control because of you. The final thrust forces him further down your throat than he’s ever been before, and you cough and your eyes stream, but you swallow it all down anyway. You don’t want to waste a single drop.

“Lemme see,” he instructs, lazily, putting the cigar into the ashtray as you pull off him, saliva trailing out of your mouth. He grins as you stick your tongue out to show him you’ve swallowed. “Good girl.” Putting himself away with trembling hands, he pats his thighs. “Come sit in Daddy’s lap.”

You wipe your wet lips with the back of your hand and shakily get up off your knees, letting him help you sit sideways in his lap. One arm is around your body, holding you to him, as the other runs up your leg, feeling the bumps on your skin from kneeling on the carpet for so long.

“So good ta me,” he murmurs, kissing your face, then your lips.

You moan into the kiss, the place between your legs is so hot and swollen and so needy for him. His big arms make you feel safe and warm and that rich, woody smell that surrounds him makes you melt into his kisses. His hand carries on its journey, sliding under your skirt now, the coldness of his rings and the roughness of his palms just adding to the sensations.

“Not even askin’ fer anything, after bein’ so good,” he coos, fingers deftly moving your panties to the side. “Can’t leave yer pussy like this though, can we?”

His fingers slide through the slickness he finds between your legs, making it very hard to think, let alone speak.

“Hm?” He encourages, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips, his nose tickling the end of yours.

“N-no Sir…” you finally manage.

He smiles. “She’s all wantin’ an’ needy…” he slides his fingers down to your entrance. “Can’t leave her like that… all empty…” he pushes one finger in, and then another quickly follows. You gasp. “Not after all ya’ve done fer me.” His thumb brushes your clit as he starts to pump his fingers in and out, lubricated by your arousal, his eyes flicking over your face to watch your reaction. You whimper at the feeling, pushing your face into his chest. “Pretty, selfless little girl didn’t even ask ta cum… so goddamn patient…” he whispers in your ear, fingers still working you in the way he knows will make you come undone. “Best girl I ever had…” he continues, praise so intense it’s making you blush, pleasure filling your body. It feels like he’s holding you right on the edge of orgasm and it’s starting to make you crazy.

“Uhhhhh.” Muffled into his shirt.

You hear that tell-tale low chuckle of his at the noise you just made, knowing he’s fucking you stupid only using his fingers, knowing he doesn’t need anything else. Sometimes you think he could make you cum just by talking to you.

“That’s it, baby,” he coos, back to encouragement again, feather-light kisses on every inch of skin he can reach, pressed into your hair. “Cum all over Daddy’s hand. You can do it. Fer me. Reward fer bein’ so patient…”

You feel it start to build then, his fingers brushing against that place inside of you as he increases the pressure with his thumb. All those years of guitar playing… people said he wasn’t any good, could only do basic rhythm parts, but he’s playing you like a damn virtuoso… your attempts at being demure fly completely out of the window when it finally hits, fingers grasping desperately at his shirt, head tipped back, back arching as you moan low and dirty, looking like the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

“Yes… fuck…” he mutters, holding you as he gently finger-fucks you through it until you’re flopped against him, breathing heavily.

Watching you as you lean your head on his chest, eyes closed, your make-up a mess from the blowjob earlier and your breasts heaving, he wants to hold you like this and never let you go. He slides his fingers out and presses a kiss to your temple. Gradually you start to come back down to earth, eyelashes fluttering as you open your eyes to see him watching you. His cute, lopsided smile makes you smile too, a hand reaching to touch his cheek.

“Thank you, Daddy,” you tell him.

“You deserve it, baby.”

Still smiling, you feel warmth spreading through you at his words. And then you remember what you were doing earlier.

“Though I should probably curtsey, shouldn’t I?” You giggle.

Elvis chuckles too. “Ya should. But I won’t make ya.”

Giggling together, you nestle closer into him, and he picks up his book again, flicking through a few pages ahead and then moving so you can see. The next chapter is called "the Texas dip” and there’s a photo of a girl doing it. Her arms are out to the side and one of her legs is bent behind the other. She’s bent over so far at the waist that her head is almost on the floor. You giggle. It looks kind of ridiculous.

“Whatchu gigglin’ for?” Elvis teases, elbowing you playfully in the side. “This is tomorrow’s lesson, little girl.”

***

Taglist:

Please let me know if you want to be added or removed:

@arg-xoxo @from-memphis-with-love @msamarican @blursedblegh @returntopresley @eapep @everythingelvispresley @i-r-i-n-a-a @arrolyn1114 @jhoneybees @polksaladava @lookingforrainbows @jkdaddy01 @epthedream69 @lustnhim @elvisslut @pomtherine @that-hotdog @epletsplayhouse @angschrof @fairybloodsucker @deltafalax @makethemorning @elviswhore69 @ilovequeen978 @wildhorseinkansas @pocketfulofpresley @dkayfixates @iloveelvisss @kxnnxy @presleyhearted @lvrdollep @nebulamorada @iloveelvis2 @18lkpeters @elvisbdoll

#masons library ⛪️#elvis presley #elvis presley x reader

195 notes · View notes