#jerry beck

[dailylooneys]

Happy 80th Birthday to Private Snafu!

Snafu.......Situation Normal All........All Fouled Up!

A series of World War 2-themed animated short films screened for young military men. They were mainly instructional, educational films, but still contained that same irreverent, slapstick comedy style of humor of the Looney Tunes & Merrie Melodies, thanks to the contributions of the boys of Termite Terrace: Chuck Jones, Bob Clampett, Friz Freleng and Frank Tashlin, and voice legend Mel Blanc.

The intention these cartoons had on the military audiences was that, the titular character, Private Snafu was an incompetent soldier that was meant to illustrate, in more straightforward way, what NOT to do (true to his name that is), with practically each short ending with Snafu getting blown.

Imagine how different it could've been if Disney had done these instead of Warner Bros., as that was the United States Army’s first choice. But that didn't happen as Leon Schlesinger would bid lower than Disney.

These shorts, of course, generally remained obscure in the minds of the mainstream audiences (until recently that is) as they never were intended to be shown in public theaters. As Martha Sigall, a staff of the ink-and-paint department at Leon Schlesinger Studios, stated these Private Snafu cartoons were top secret. They wore ID badges, did fingerprints, got FBI approval and were given ten cels rather than the usual thirty cels, to prevent them from knowing about the stories.

Therefore, it was never made for a general audiences of kids and adults as the publicly released Looney Tunes shorts were, especially considering it’s content; mild swearing (i.e., damn, hell) and fanservice displayed all over these cartoons that couldn't have been possible in the days of the Hays Code (it's especially surprising to note that Ted Geisel, AKA Dr. Seuss, of all people, was the main writer for THESE!!! Wowie!!!!). 

Fun fact: (one of the shorts titled “Censored” was shown on Cartoon Network’s trivia show Toonheads late at night with half of the scene featuring a topless Sally Lou cut out!)

And, naturally, because this was a WWII-themed series, featured a good deal of derogatory depictions/imagery of Japanese/Germans and Nazis (which will not be shown here).

It's interesting to see not only how strongly connected Private Snafu is to the Looney Tunes, considering, not only the same style of humor, but the two cameo appearances of Bugs Bunny (Gas and Three Brothers), which could make Snafu himself a Looney Tune. 

This is especially considering his early bird cameo in Chuck Jones’s The Draft Horse.

Later on, Private Snafu would not only be done by Warner Bros., but also by it’s competitors, like MGM, UPA, Harman-Ising and Disney. 

Two shorts were left unproduced. One of them was originally going to be directed by none other Tex Avery at MGM. Too bad that didn’t happen!! 

Though the Private Snafu series maybe a time capsule of World War 2, as oppose to being as timeless as the classic Looney Tunes cartoons are, they still serve as a fascinating historical art, a look at what our world was going through, and still included a lot of the trademark style of humor seen in the Warner Bros. cartoons that still kept it entertaining enough.

[bunnziebobcat]

Fan Art Friday - When Hornswiggle meets Kimba

This week's #FanArtFriday happens when Hornswiggle meet Kimba the White Lion. They're celebrating the legacy of Osamu Tezuka, who passed away on this day 35 years ago, and the birthday of Jerry Beck, created Hornswiggle.

[randomrichards]

CLAYDREAM:

Man with the moustache

Put claymation on the map

Flew too close to sun

[celestialmazer]

Having a real Betty Boop moment just now - she doesn't half need to deal with a lot of shit

Betty Boop - Baby Be Good (1935)

Loved this look

The Impractical Jokers (1937)

Loved this vibe from her (and that grampy could have a job designing setpieces for Jackass based on this short - very Jackass Forever "silence of the lambs" skit energy)

Poor Cinderella (1934)

The only colour Boop and as this was years before the invention of the multiplane camera the ballroom scene was a physical set made of layered paper cutouts, a first attempt at this technique 💗

Quite revolutionary!

(Some more insight from Jerry Beck on this commentary video)

Judge For A Day (1935)

Quite a lot of relatable content in this one

Blunderland (1934)

Is My Palm Read? (1933)

[dcbinges]

The Power of Shazam! (1994) by Jerry Ordway

[bebx]

Johnny Depp has the most beautiful guardian angels, Jerry Judge and Jeff Beck

[p-c-ba-dcforever]

It's the late C.C. Beck's birthday! Let's celebrate with his most famous creation, The Original Captain Marvel (or Shazam. if you prefer)!

[krispyweiss]

Producers Seek $24K to Get Nicky Hopkins Documentary Made

- “The Session Man” is finished; 39 tracks need licensing

If anyone is ever going to see “The Session Man,” producers need to raise $24,000 to license 39 tracks for the Nicky Hopkins documentary

Touted as “rock ’n’ roll’s greatest session man,” by narrator Bob Harris, Hopkins, who died in 1994, played on more more than 250 albums over his 30-year career. Over those decades, Hopkins was a member of Quick Silver Messenger Service, the Jeff Beck Group and the Jerry Garcia Band and played alongside the likes of John Lennon, the Kinks, Joe Cocker, Zero, Meat Loaf, the Rolling Stones and others.

“He could play just about anything,” Keith Richards says in the trailer for the film.

The Michael Treen-directed documentary is finished. But it cannot be shown to potential distributors at film festivals until licensing is secured.

Harry Shearer sums up why Hopkins - and his instrument - were so important to the bands he assisted.

“Piano has all the colors - can say anything,” Shearer says. “And a guy who’s as talented as Nicky can take a simple song and fill it with all sorts of extra feeling and meaning.”

Donations can be made here.

3/8/23

[zemerluani]

Old School Summer Playlist

[heartbeetz]

Wait I just realized it would be so funny if even my s/is who should have good night vision (shutterbeck, baryl, corn, terri...) had the same vision issues I do so they have shitty night vision anyway. Sorry guys you all get the Night Static ♡

[kenpiercemedia]

Now Streaming: "Unfrosted" on Netflix (5/3/2024)

Some of you readers might recall our sharing the Official Trailer for the Netflix comedy “Unfrosted” and if you didn’t see that post its easily rectified by clicking HERE. The film marks the directorial debut of Jerry Seinfeld and has an all-star comedic cast. The premise surrounds a battle for breakfast domination between Kellogg’s and Post and this film is available to stream as of early this…

[dailylooneys]

Finally was able to get this lovely DVD! Now I can collect images of the specific shorts included (Hip, Hip Hurry!, The Unruly Hare, The Bee-Deviled Bruin, Doggone Cats, to name a few), restored to the original quality, without any watermarks, logos, or distorted or photoshopped imagery whatsoever! I'm looking forward to seeing more volumes in the preceding years and to see that DVD's will still live on as a medium!

Have any of you obtain this gem yet?

If not, click here!

[doyoulikethissong-poll]

Yes votes / Artist - Song title / Poll number / Showdown votes / * Showdown Winner

95% A-ha - Take On Me #91 - 45.2% *

94,8% Boney M. - Rasputin #37 - 49,3% *

94,3% Dolly Parton - Jolene #110 - 43,1% *

94,1% Britney Spears - Toxic #04 - 51,9% *

92% Fleetwood Mac - The Chain #116 - 44,4% *

90,2% Dead or Alive - You Spin Me Round (Like a Record) #163 - 30,8% *

-

89,1% Kansas - Carry On Wayward Son #171 - 51% *

86,6% Amy Winehouse - Back to Black #190 - 32,9 *

86,3% Chumbawamba - Tubthumping #82 - 24,9%

86% Chuck Berry - Johnny B. Goode #53 - 18,6%

85,5% Dido - Thank You #120 - 5,6%

85,3% Ricky Martin - La Bomba #132 - 8,3% 85,3% Billy Idol - Rebel Yell #197 - 23,9%

85,2% Queen - The Show Must Go On #142 - 20,9%

85% Green Day - Basket Case #47 - 27,6% *

84,9% Ramones - Blitzkrieg Bop #41 - 15,8%

84,7% The Cardigans - Lovefool #135 - 24,2% *

84,5% Elvis Presley - Can't Help Falling in Love #136 - 18,8%

84,4% Daryl Hall & John Oates - Out of Touch #67 - 31,4% *

82,7% Nightwish - The Phantom of the Opera #144 - 8,6%

82,6% Junior Senior - Move Your Feet #76 - 6,5%

82,4% Myrkur - Tor i Helheim #54 - 7% 82,4% Tracy Chapman - Fast Car #145 - 32,5% *

82% Backstreet Boys - I Want It That Way #105 - 19,2%

81,9% Blue Swede - Hooked on a Feeling #152 - 17,1% * 81,9% 3 Doors Down - Kryptonite #167 - 15,1%

81,6% N Sync - Bye Bye Bye #52 - 26,9% *

81,5% Israel Kamakawiwo'ole - Somewhere Over the Rainbow #42 - 16,7%

81,1% Metallica - Enter Sandman #200 - 32,5% *

80,7% Jamiroquai - Virtual Insanity #72 - 17,9%

80,5% Pixies - Where Is My Mind? #148 - 13,5%

80,2% Oasis - Wonderwall #157 - 16%

80,1% Soundgarden - Black Hole Sun #119 - 14,9%

-

79,6% Fats Waller - Ain't Misbehavin' #179 - 7,1%

79,4% Falco - Rock Me Amadeus #185 - 23,2%

79,3% Rick Astley - Never Gonna Give You Up - #Bonus Poll

78,8% Shakira - Ojos Así #75 - 7,5%

78,5% Kaoma - Lambada #57 - 4,2%

78,4% Danny Elfman - This Is Halloween #05 - 13,9%

78,2% Panic at the Disco - The Ballad of Mona Lisa #78 - 18,5% *

78% Panjabi MC - Mundian To Bach Ke #64 - 5,3%

77,6% Jimi Hendrix - All Along the Watchtower #95 - 13.1% 77,6% Nirvana - The Man Who Sold the World #118 - 10,7%

77% Elton John - Goodbye Yellow Brick Road #22 - 29,4% * 77% Kesha - Blow #38 - 12,1%

76,4% Salt-N-Pepa with En Vogue - Whatta Man #134 - 15,1%

76,3% Johnny Cash - Hurt #81 - 35,6% * 76,3% Red Hot Chili Peppers - Otherside #92 - 8.2% 76,3% The Offspring - Gone Away #143 - 5,9% 76,3% The Longest Johns - Hoist Up The Thing #169 - 7,8%

76% Foo Fighters - The Pretender #111 - 14,2%

75,9% Queens of the Stone Age - No One Knows #87 - 12,9%

75,7% Nothing but Thieves - Is Everybody Going Crazy? #113 - 3,7%

75,5% Tarkan - Şımarık #94 - 3.1%

75,4% Jerry Lee Lewis - Great Balls of Fire #188 - 8,8%

75,2% Eiffel 65 - Blue (Da Ba Dee) #147 - 14,2%

74,9% Måneskin - Off My Face #151 - 7,9%

74,8% Måneskin - Zitti e Buoni #16 - 33% *

74,6% Nat King Cole - Nature Boy #09 - 7,2% 74,6% Within Temptation - Stand My Ground #165 - 6,4%74,6% Pink - Who Knew #166 - 8,4%

74,4% Go_A - Shum #177 - 18,7%

74,3% Arash - Tike Tike Kardi #137 - 2,6%

73,6% Paula Abdul - Straight Up #156 - 6,2%

73,5% Tina Turner - GoldenEye #195 - 10,1%

73,3% Beck - Loser #124 - 16,4% 73,3% Massive Attack - Teardrop #187 - 17,4%

72,7% Iggy Pop - Lust for Life #199 - 7,6%

72,6% Evanescence - Imaginary #44 - 13,5%

72% Robbie Williams - The Road to Mandalay #129 - 3,9%

71,8% Billie Piper - Day & Night #173 - 5,6%

71,7% Lil Green - Why Don't You Do Right? #34 - 1,8%

71,1% Cab Calloway - Minnie the Moocher #130 - 14,4%

71% Udit Narayan - Bholi Si Surat #141 - 1,5%

70,9% Nine Inch Nails - Closer #93 - 22%

70,7% Ryan Gosling - I'm Just Ken #159 - 12,4%

70,6% The Lightning Seeds - You Showed Me #59 - 2,7% 70,6% Savage Garden - To the Moon and Back #83 - 7%

70,5% Queen - Mustapha #29 - 11,4%

70,4% Soggy Bottom Boys - I Am a Man of Constant Sorrow #26 - 22,3% 70,4% Metallica - Wherever I May Roam #77 - 8,6%

-

69,9% MUCC - Ryuusei #19 - 7,4%

69,5% Spooks - Things I've Seen #104 - 0,8%

69,2% Flo Rida feat Kesha - Right Round #02 - 6,2%

68,9% Era - Ameno (Remix) #24 - 4,8%

68,5% Linkin Park - Bleed It Out #63 - 23,9% 68,5% Snow - Informer #139 - 4,7%

68,3% Run-DMC featuring Aerosmith - Walk This Way #127 - 10,9%

68,2% Limahl - The NeverEnding Story #60 - 9,8% 68,2% Nelly Furtado - Maneater #160 - 17,1% * 68,2% Abhijeet - Ole Ole #193 - 1,7%

68,1% Stromae - L'enfer #89 - 9,8%

67,9% Urban Symphony - Rändajad #90 - 2,2%

67,8% Muse - Endlessly #107 - 9,4%

67,6% My Chemical Romance - Sing #80 - 17,3%

67,3% “Weird Al” Yankovic - White & Nerdy #43 - 16%

67% Avicii - Hey Brother #164 - 13,9%

66,7% The Hives - Two-Timing Touch and Broken Bones #58 - 2,7%

66,3% System of a Down - B.Y.O.B. #128 - 26,2% *

66% Texas - Summer Son #154 - 2,6%

65,8% Cliff Edwards - When You Wish Upon a Star #85 - 2,2%

65,7% Modern Talking - Brother Louie #50 - 4% 65,7% Ivan Campo - Dice Man #181 - 1,2%

65,4% Harry McClintock - The Big Rock Candy Mountains #131 - 6,7%

65,2% Eimear Quinn - The Voice #32 - 2,5% 65,2% 2Pac featuring Dr. Dre and Roger Troutman - California Love #121 - 8,3% 65,2% Radio Company - Drowning #172 - 2,2%

64,7% Bloodhound Gang - The Bad Touch #162 - 9%

64,6% Gorillaz - Stylo #61 - 15,8% 64,6% Duran Duran - The Chauffeur #133 - 7,1%

64,4% Alice Cooper - Poison #01 - 10,5% 64,4% Depeche Mode - It's No Good #101 - 9,1%

64,2% Ace of Base - Happy Nation #192 - 3,8%

64,1% Destiny’s Child - Jumpin’, Jumpin’ #51 - 12,7%

64% 2 Unlimited - No Limit #182 - 3,2%64% 30 Seconds to Mars - Battle of One #183 - 3,9%

63,8% Kongos - Come With Me Now #17 - 15,9% 63,8% A. R. Rahman - Jai Ho #40 - 4,6%

63,3% Dua Lipa - New Rules #126 - 10,6%

63,1% Olly Murs - Heart Skips A Beat #106 - 2,2%

63% Moby - Why Does My Heart Feel So Bad? #123 - 3,8%

62,4% 30 Seconds to Mars - Fallen #30 - 5,5% 62,4% Beastie Boys - Intergalactic #153 - 16%

62,3% Childish Gambino - This Is America #71 - 18,2% 62,3% the Chemical Brothers - Galvanize #191 - 7%

62% Billie Eilish - No Time to Die #168 - 5%

61,7% Korn - Did My Time #194 - 6%

61,4% The Prodigy - Breathe #112 - 4,5%

61,3% Blue Stahli - One Last Breath #99 - 1.8%

61,1% Wham! - Everything She Wants #108 - 6,5%

61% Skunk Anansie - Weak #196 - 4,3%

60,6% Lordi - Hard Rock Hallelujah #70 - 9,9% 60,6% Kwoon featuring Babet - King Of Sea #115 . 0,5%

60,2% Toni Braxton - You're Makin' Me High #155 - 1,4%

-

58,9% AC/DC - Hail Caesar #158 - 3,2%

58,7% Duran Duran - The Wild Boys #21 - 9,6%

58,5% Nova Twins - Antagonist #68 - 4,5%

58,1% Madonna - Live to Tell #184 - 3%

56,8% Mendez - Adrenaline #23 - 1,2% 56,8% Sash! - Ecuador #73 - 1,7% 56,8% Anouk - Nobody's Wife #176 - 2,2%

56,7% George Michael and Mary J. Blige - As #62 - 3,2% 56,7% Kelis - Trick Me #175 - 4,2%

56,6% Nikka Costa - Like A Feather #48 - 0,6% 56,6% Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds & Kylie Minogue - Where the Wild Roses Grow #103 - 5,7%

56,1% Margaret Berger - I Feed You My Love #117 - 0,8%

55,9% Blur - Coffee & TV #56 - 9,7%

55,7% Big Brovaz - Nu Flow #65 - 0,9% 55,7% K’s Choice - Everything For Free #79 - 1,2%

55,4% Moby - Natural Blues #07 - 2,5% 55,4% Janet Jackson featuring Q-Tip and Joni Mitchell - Got 'til It's Gone #146 - 2,2%

55,2% Rammstein - Engel #35 - 7,3%

55,1% Maximum the Hormone - What's Up, People?! #138 - 10,6%

54,5% Billie Myers - Tell Me #86 - 0,9% 54,5% Lana Del Rey - High by the Beach #186 - 4,4%

54% Aqua - Turn Back Time #28 - 8,2%

53,9% Ardis - No Man's Land #88 - 0,9%

53,5% Kylie Minogue - Confide In Me #13 - 5,2%

53,4% Apashe - Lord & Master #170 - 1,5%

52,8% Madonna - Who's That Girl #18 - 9,8%

52,7% Aerosmith - Falling in Love (Is Hard on the Knees) #84 - 3,5% 52,7% MUCC - Daikirai #161 - 2,1%

52,2% Marilyn Manson - The Fight Song #49 - 2,1%

52,1% DJ Shadow - Six Days #180 - 2%

51,6% Bomfunk MC's - Freestyler #14 - 6%

51,3% Mariah Carey - The Roof (Back in Time) #46 - 1,4% 51,3% Mori Calliope & Reol - 虚像のCarousel #55 - 5,6%

-

49,9% Basement Jaxx - Where's Your Head At #31 - 6,9%

49,8% Shaggy - Hey Sexy Lady #122 - 4,1%

49,7% Warren G & Sissel - Prince Igor #20 - 2,2%

49% Billie Eilish - NDA #10 - 2,6%

47,7% Massive Attack - Angel #39 - 5,9%

47,5% Adam Tensta - My Cool #11 - 1%

47,4% Slipknot - The Blister Exists #100 - 2,6%

47% Seether - Fuck It #74 - 2,6%

46,9% Rhiannon Giddens - Way Over Yonder #102 - 1,2%

46,8% Spiritbox - Rotoscope #66 - 2,6%

46,6% Sabrina Carpenter - Feather #25 - 4,6%

46% Prince - The Greatest Romance Ever Sold #69 - 2,6%

45,6% Jimmy Cliff feat Lebo M - Hakuna Matata #06 - 2%

44,3% 3T and Michael Jackson - Why #114 - 0,7%

44,2% Tones and I - Dance Monkey #178 - 6,1%

43,9% The Prodigy - No Good (Start the Dance) #08 - 2,6% 43,9% David Bowie - I'm Afraid of Americans #33 - 8,5% 43,9% Faithless - Insomnia #109 - 2,9%

42,7% Fatboy Slim - Weapon of Choice #12 - 16,3%

42,6% Eminem - Rabbit Run #27 - 2,9%

41,5% Destiny's Child - With Me #198 - 3,2%

40,6% Michael Jackson - Will You Be There #45 - 2,3%

-

39,8% Alanis Morissette - I Was Hoping #96 - 1.6%

38,8% Wyclef Jean - Gone Till November #36 - 1,1%

38,5% Bright Light Bright Light featuring Mark Gatiss - Next To You #174 - 0,8%

37,9% Ariana Grande - Yes, And? #140 - 1,8%

37,6% Babylon Zoo - Spaceman #189 - 2%

36,5% Jedward - Luminous #125 - 1,4%

35,3% Noporn - Geleia de Morango #150 - 0,3%

34,6% Ena Mori - Fall Inlove! #149 - 0,4%

33,3% Ryan Gosling - Put Me in the Car #15 - 3,2%

30% Darren Hayes - Spin #03 - 0,6%

-

29% Dreamcrusher - In Due Time #98 - 0.7%

28,2% BTS - Life Goes On #97 - 1.8%

[lackadaisycal-art]

Nicky Hopkins was an English pianist and organist. He performed on many popular and enduring British and American rock music recordings from the 1960s to the 1990s, most notably on songs recorded by the Rolling Stones, the Kinks, the Who, the Beatles, the Steve Miller Band, Jefferson Airplane, Rod Stewart, George Harrison, John Lennon, Paul McCartney, Ringo Starr, The Hollies, Cat Stevens, Carly Simon, Harry Nilsson, Joe Walsh, Peter Frampton, Jerry Garcia, Jeff Beck, Joe Cocker, Art Garfunkel, Badfinger, Graham Parker, Gary Moore, Quicksilver Messenger Service and Donovan. He is widely considered to be one of the greatest studio pianists in the history of popular rock music.

[iloveaustinelvisandmannymore]

I've just sat and read all of your fics and they're all incredible! If it's okay, can you write an Elvis x female reader smut where she's in the audience of the Comeback special and maybe throughout the performance he kind if gravitates towards her? Ending really smutty where he invites her to his dressing room after? Thank you so so much!

Omg, I love this idea! 🥺 your words mean so much to me, im so happy that my works can make you entertained. on to the fanfic! I hope you like it.

Gravitation

Pairing: Elvis Presley x reader.

Warning: Reverse cowgirl, Praise, Cum shot, Dirty talk, Spanking, Mirror sex, Oral (fem), Cum eating, Fluff, Stranger to lovers? Creampie, Choking, Gagging, Melolagnia kink, Exhibitionism, Crying, Chubby!reader.

Summary: You never felt so lucky, you were one of the few people to watch The Rock and roll king; Elvis Presley, to see history. You felt things you haven't before and to make it worse or better you seem to gain the Rockstar's attention. You couldn't wait to see what the future held for you.

You watched the god-like man like he was everything and more, his stage presence awoke things you never thought were possible, and your heartbeat pulsated with the rhythm of the song he sang with such emotion. Your breath became baited as your eyes locked with the rockstar, a seductive smirk made its way to his face, and a knowing glint in his eyes. He continued to perform, dancing and singing more in your direction, and your juices soaked your underwear. You desired him like no other.

Even as he sat down to talk, he would glance your way, it was unbearable when you were told y'all could take a break, you looked around for Elvis but he wasn't around he probably went to his changing room and feeling nothing short of disappointment fall in the pit of your stomach, you begin to walk to the ladies room when THE jerry schilling stood in front of you, his eyes looked your curved bigger body up and down behind his almost see through shades, unknowingly to him or knowing he licked his lips before he snapped out of his episode and cleared his throat. "Elvis wants to see you. Follow me sugar," he spoke softly so you only heard him despite you being in an empty hallway "lead the way." you nodded eagerly making Jerry laugh at your excitement and begin to show you to Elvis's changing room. With each step you got wetter, you heard tales of women who had the luxury of sleeping with the king, they had said such it was like no other, you were gonna see if it was true.

You both reached the door of the dressing room, Jerry bid you goodbye but you hardly heard him, your heartbeat was too loud in your ears, with a gulp of courage you knocked on the door and waited, playing with the edge of your dress skirt, that rested on the middle of your plush thighs not long his voice called out to you and invited you in. You turned the handle and walked in, a view which would make any fan faint to see in person, There sitting on a couch was Elvis smirk on his lips, manspreading still in that heavenly black leather suit, his eyes traced your big body, your breasts stood out like a masterpiece, your baby carrying hips, those thighs he wanted to fuck, 'Next time' he noted his mind, continuing to check you out, those legs that he wanted to be wrapped his waist, Elvis took a sip of his iced coke and put into down on the end table. Elven sent a soft smile as he becked you over with a finger, he chuckled as he pulled you onto his lap, his hand gripping your hips before moving his hands up your love handles, stopping briefly to squeeze them and then moving on until his hands cupped your breasts and groaning at the weight of them in his palms "Yar a pretty thing aren't cha." he spoke looking at you with lustful-adoring blue orbs, "Thank you Mr.Presley" you replied softly "Elvis for you darlin'." he licked his lips, his fingers gripped onto your wide hips. Elvis leaned his head back on the wall that the couch was pushed up against, his lidded eyes watching you "Go on, pretty thing, ride me." he encouraged you, your slick dripped from your oversoaked panties, and you got off his lap, your fingers worked to undo his pants and pull them down with Elvis's help, his cook stood proud once free, at a good 8 inch, which twitched from the cold air, you wrapped your hand around his thick cock and gave an experimental jerk, A sharp hiss leaves Elvis and you couldn't stop yourself.

You knew you should be patient and tease him but you dreamed of this moment ever since you heard and saw this man. You quickly took off your underwear, turned around, lined his cock to your entrance, and slid down his large length. You both hissed at the feeling, you from his member stretching your pussy, giving a pleasant burn and him from the feeling of the tightest pussy he had ever been in before, the feeling of your ass laying on his thighs, giving a comforting weight while feeling great pleasure. You breathed in, lifted your hips, and began to bounce, moans left your lips as his cock head hit your g-spot "Fuckk" Elvis moaned, wrapping his arms around your stomach, laying his head on your back, and his hips bucking up at each time you lifted yourself, pretty whines and pants was all that sounds he seemed could make, "Fuckin' hell pretty thing, go faster, wanna cream this pussy." Elvis groaned, thrusted upwards, your cheeks heated up from his dirty words, and lean a bit forward, gripping the little bit of couch that was between Elvis's spread legs and rolled your hips before riding the man below you faster, the sound of your ass hitting against his lap become louder and his thrusts faster, chasing his release. Elvis threw his head back, whining, eyes squeezed shut as he filled you with his seed "Get up sugar" he tapped your hips after gaining back some of his energy "Go to the mirror f'me, put your hands on the vanity and bend over." he commanded, watching you do as you were told, he got up after you, taking off the icon suit and walked behind his jet black hair laid on his forehead and his body adored a layer of sweat from being rid. Elvis sent you a smile through the mirror before lowering to his knees, flipping your dress skirt off your ass, and spreading your pillowy thighs to see your glistening folds, covered into your slink, and his slowly dripping out semen "Ain't this a pretty sight" he licked his lips, and buried himself in said thighs, licking stride up your cunt.

"Oh fuck!" you cried as his tongue flicked at your clitoris before wrapping his lips around the sensitive nerve and sucking on it. Hard. You grabbed the edge of the vanity, and whimpered, laying your forehead against the mirror. He gave one last suck before dragging his tongue through your folds to your cum-filed core, the wet muscle circled your entrance and penetrated, his lapped at your walls, licking out his cum

It felt so good, tears pooled at the corner of your eyes, and little sobs of pleasure left you as he didn't hold back, cumming when he nibbled your clit. You watched as Elvis appeared up from behind you, his lower face shining from your slick, and a dirty smug smirk was directed at you through the mirror, once again his hands took your hips and he moved closer to you until his tip poked your slit "Ya ready?" he asked, you nodded "Tell me." he ordered " Yes I'm ready." you smiled, touched by his caring nature.

He slowly began to push inside of you, inch by inch this new angle gave was heavenly, you felt every thing.

He grunted as he finally was balls deep into you, his balls rested on your outer lips and clitoris. He pulled back before snapping his hips, forcing a scream that has cut short by Elvis's fingers down your throat, causing you to gag around them as his thrust set a slowly but pace, pulling out slowly and snapping his hips, his eyes locked on where you were connected. He didn't keep that up for long as his hammering became faster, his hips smacked against your ass, the skin rippling at the impact, his fingers left your mouth and placed them on your neck, squeezing slightly and leaning his body on your back, his pounding reaching a new deep, his jackhammering shook your body. Elvis's eyes looked up at the mirror as he spot one of his female tailoresses who flirted with him, despite him showing no interest in her, peaking through the now open door with a sad and raged look on her face as she watched him take a big girl than her, she was mad but she couldn't look away from the scene in front of her. Knowing he was being watched as he fucked you, who will be his girl from now on, turned him on more than he thought he was, his thrusted was turning rapid, and his unoccupied hand pulled you back against him, his balls slapped your pussy as he didn't bother holding his moans, that joined your moaning and whining, his ocean blues moved from the envious woman to you, looking at your pleasure covered face.

You were getting close, oh so close to snapping that knot and you could tell so was Elvis, his cock twitched within you "I-'m gonna cum sugar!" he groaned, his dick hitting your cervix finally making your climax "Elvis!" you cried out coming down your high when he suddenly pulled out and manhandled you to your kneels, his hand working frantically as cum shot out his cock head, landing on your face and cleavage. "Goddamn." he laughed breathlessly as he helped you up and to the couch, both of you sitting on. You sat cuddling into his side as his arm draped over your shoulders, his head resting on yours as you recovered from the mind-blowing sex you had.

"Mr. Presley, you're on in—WHOA!" a man from the filming crew opened the closed door, his brown orbs widened as he took in the state of you two, slamming the door shut. A pregnant silence stretched before the man cleared his throat on the other side of the door "You're on in six minutes Mr. P-presley. I would r-recommend getting dressed." he spoke shakingly before his footsteps faded. You and Elvis looked at each other and busted out laughing for a good few seconds before you both cleaned yourself and redressed.

Elvis pulled you to with a smile "Meet me back here again after the shooting, I want to get to know ya pretty thing. Think ya will allow me?" He asked his thumbs caressing your hips "Of course." you smiles back and kissed him, pulling apart you laid your foreheads together before saying see you later and going your own ways. The rest of the filming was filled with secret smiles and glances.

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[matttgirlies]

Matt & Me🎀

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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 - mentions of drug use

y/nn = your nickname for any confusion🩷

Chapter 11

Matt Sturniolo created his own world; only in his own environment did he feel secure, comfortable, and protected. A genuine camaraderie was created at Graceland. We lived as one big family, eating, talking, arguing, joking, playing, and traveling together.

Although I became friends with the guys in Matt’s retinue, he never let me, or anyone else, forget that I was his girl. I was never to get too close or become too familiar with any of the regulars.

One evening, after we came home from a movie, we said good night to everyone and went upstairs. Returning to the kitchen a few minutes later to get something to eat, I found Jerry Schilling, who’d just started working for Matt, making himself a snack. We started talking. A few minutes later, Matt appeared.

“What the hell are you two doing down here?” he shouted at us.

Intimidated, Jerry said, “Well, Matt, we were just talking. I was asking her how she felt, because she didn’t feel well this afternoon.”

“I came down to get something to eat,” I explained.

“y/nn, you don’t need to be roaming around here late at night,” he said, angrily ordering me upstairs.

Behind me, I could hear him lashing out at Jerry. “If you want to keep this job, son, you mind your own business. If there’s anyone who’s going to ask her how she feels, it’ll be me. You better mind your own goddamn business.”

I liked Jerry. He was warm, sincere, and very personable; just a couple of years older than I, he was one of the few people who I could relate to. But from that time on, it was a dodging match every time we’d run into each other. Now Jerry and I laugh about the “good old days” when we reminisce.

Most of the boys who worked for Matt had been around from the beginning and they knew all about him—his sense of humor, his sensitivity, and his temper. He stripped himself bare in front of them, and they accepted him for what he was.

Yet working for Matt was a twenty-four-hour-a-day job, and the boys were at his beck and call constantly. They played when he played and slept when he slept. It took a certain kind of personality to put up with his demands, whether they made sense or not.

“Come on, y/nn, let’s go to Los Angeles. I’ll show you where I film movies.,” he said one afternoon when we’d only been up for a few hours. He called downstairs and told Alan to alert everyone that he wanted to leave within the hour.

Alan said, “Okay, Boss. I think Richard and Gene are still sleeping. I’ll give ’em a call and tell ’em to come right over.”

“Their lazy asses are still sleeping?” Matt asked. “I’ve been up for two goddamn hours. They should have been over here by now. Alan, from now on, when I call down for my breakfast, call the boys and tell them I’m up and to be ready for anything, and that may include me not even coming downstairs. I just want them here.”

Demanding? Yes, but Matt could be just as generous. By today’s standards the boys’ salaries were not high—the average paycheck was $250 a week—but if the boys ever felt the pinch by the end of the month, they would go to Matt. They’d ask him if he could help them out with a down payment on a house or the first and last months’ payments on an apartment. Matt always came through for them, lending them the one thousand or five thousand or ten thousand dollars they asked for. He was rarely if ever paid back.

There also was no limit to the expensive gifts he gave them—television consoles for Christmas, bonus checks, Cadillac convertibles, Mercedes-Benzes. If he heard someone was sad or depressed, he loved to surprise them with a gift, usually a brand-new car. When he gave to one, he would usually end up giving to all.

James didn’t have much respect for the guys. He said Matt just gave and gave and gave, and they took and took and took. He’d say, “Son, we have to save.” Matt would answer, “It’s only money, Dad. I just have to go out and make more.”

James resented the regulars acting as if Graceland was their personal club. They’d go into the kitchen at any hour and order anything they wanted. Naturally, everyone ordered something different. The cooks worked night and day keeping them happy. James felt, “To hell with the boys. Their main concern should be Matt.”

What was really outrageous was that the regulars were ordering sirloin steaks or prime ribs while Matt usually ate hamburgers or peanut butter and banana sandwiches.

I wasn’t too popular around Graceland when I started reorganizing the kitchen. I set down a policy of having one menu per meal, and anyone who didn’t like what was on it could go to a local restaurant. This new edict resulted in much grumbling from the guys, but the cooks were relieved, and James sanctioned my decision, announcing, “It’s about time someone organized the meals. It was beginning to look like we were feeding half of Boston.”

Matt was the boss, the provider, and the power. Both the boys and I had to protect him from people who annoyed or irritated him and were no longer in his favor. Before coming down for the evening, he’d have me call downstairs to check who was there. I’d run down the guests, aware that certain names would strike him wrong.

“Shit,” he’d say, his mood destroyed. “What’s he want? Bring me some more bad news?” He’d stay up in his room rather than spend an evening with someone he didn’t like. There was one particular regular who had incurred his disfavor, and Matt told everyone he didn’t want him around. “Don’t let him through those goddamn gates!” Matt ordered. “All I have to do is look at his face and I get depressed.” Matt barred him from Graceland for a number of years, saying, “If he changes his morbid attitude, maybe I’ll change my mind.” His perceptions were correct, as these “friends” eventually betrayed him.

Matt and James kept some of their relatives at a distance because, as Matt explained to me, they’d shunned him when he was growing up, ridiculing him as a sissy, a mama’s boy. Mary Lou stood up for Matt and told his tormentors to go their own way. Angrily, she had said, “Don’t bother us with these accusations.”

Then fame and fortune hit, and suddenly all the kinfolk came around, begging for jobs or crying that they needed help. Sometimes Matt got upset, charging, “The only time they visit is with their hand out. It’d be nice if they’d come around just to see how I was doing. But hell no, it’s always, ‘Ah, Matt, I could use a little extra cash. Could you help me out?’ Hell, I’ll bet when I’m dead and gone, they’ll still be taking advantage.” But Matt ended up slipping each of them a hundred dollars or more every time they came around. If it had been up to James, he would have gotten rid of every one of them. But Matt kept saying, “No, Dad, they don’t have any place to go. They couldn’t work anywhere. Keep them here.”

From the beginning of his success, Matt put many family members on salary, and all had titles. James was his business manager; Patsy, his personal secretary; uncles Vester Sturniolo and Johnny and Travis Smith, and cousin Harold Lloyd, gate guards; cousins Billy, Bobby, and Gene, personal aides; and then there was Tracy Smith, who seemed to go from brother to brother for support. Matt took care of everyone.

I remember one night at Graceland when Matt came back to the kitchen and saw Tracy pacing the floor. “Hey, Tracy,” he said, “How ya doing, man?” Tracy, his hands in his pockets, could hardly look Matt in the eye. “I don’t know, Matt,” he sighed. “What do ya mean, you don’t know? Everyone knows how they’re doin’, man.”

Tracy, shifting back and forth, mumbled, “I got my nerves in the dirt, Matt.” Matt staggered back, laughing. “Nerves in the dirt! Hell, I never heard it expressed like that before. You need some money, Tracy?”

Again, Tracy just shifted back and forth, as Matt called Nate over and told him to give Tracy a bill. A big smile covered Tracy’s lined face as he happily took his hundred dollars and walked out the door.

Matt knew that having his nerves in the dirt was Tracy’s way of saying he was down and out—and worried sick about it. He never forgot that phrase. “Poor ol’ Matt,” he’d say. “I’ll never forget the look on his face that night, poor ol’ guy.”

That was Matt—always caring, always sensitive to everyone’s needs, even while presenting a macho image to his fans and friends.

Anything I could think of doing for him, I did. I made sure Graceland was always warm and inviting, with the lights turned low, as he preferred them, the temperature in his bedroom set to his exact desire (freezing), and the kitchen filled with the aroma of his favorite meals.

Every night before dinner was served, I came downstairs first, checked with the maids to see that his food was just the way he liked it—his mashed potatoes creamily whipped, plenty of cornbread, and his meat burnt to perfection. I always had candles on the dining room table to create a romantic atmosphere despite the fact that we always ate with several of the regulars.

I loved babying Matt. He had a little-boy quality that could bring out the mother instinct in any woman, a beguiling way of seeming utterly dependent. It was this aspect of his charm that made me want to hold him, shower him with affection, protect him, fight for him, and yes, even die for him. I went to extremes in taking care of him, from cutting his steak at dinner to making sure his water glass was always filled. I enjoyed pampering and spoiling him and found myself jealous of others vying for his attention and approval.

But I didn’t always receive his approval. If something went wrong with his dinner, Matt blew up. “Why isn’t this steak done? Why didn’t you make sure the maids cooked it right? If you’d have done your job, it wouldn’t have turned out like this.” Obviously something else was wrong, and I didn’t recognize it at the time. Because of the continuous pressures and problems in Matt’s life, all magnified by taking prescribed drugs, little things would set him off. I took responsibility for everything in his life and always took it all too personally.

I wanted to be with Matt as much as I could, but while going to the movies or the fairgrounds every night might have been a wonderful way for him to relax, it posed an enormous problem for me. Often I wouldn’t get home until 5 or 6 a.m., and I’d have to be at school two hours later. Sometimes I never went to sleep. When I did, I could barely make it out of bed. I would lie there trying to drum up the strength to face the day, Matt making it even harder by suggesting that I sleep in and cut classes. It would have been so easy to go along with his suggestion, but hanging over me was the agreement I’d made with my parents. They trusted me and even though I was letting them down, I still had to keep up the facade.

Day after day I drove to school, attended classes till noon, then returned to Graceland to slip back into bed and cuddle next to Matt, who was still sound asleep. When he awoke at 3 or 4 p.m., I might never have left his side for all he knew. I was there to give him his usual order of orange juice, a Spanish omelet, home-fried potatoes, a mere two pounds of bacon, and—first and foremost—his black coffee.

Everyone who knew Matt was aware that it took him at least two to three hours to wake up fully. Asking him to make a decision, even a simple one such as what movie he wanted to see that night, was ill-advised. He was just too groggy and irritable from the sleeping pills, which were causing him to sleep as many as fourteen hours a day. It seemed only natural for him to take some Dexedrine to wake up.

I was always concerned about his intake of sleeping pills. His horror of insomnia, compounded with a family history of compulsive worrying, caused him to down three or four Placidyls, Seconals, Quaaludes, or Tuinals almost every night—and often it was a combination of all four. When I expressed my concern, he just picked up the medical dictionary, always near at hand on his night table.

“In here is the explanation for every type of pill on the market, their ingredients, side effects, cures, everything about them,” he assured me. “There isn’t anything I can’t find out.”

It was true. He was always reading up on pills, always checking to see what was on the market, and which ones had received FDA approval. He referred to them by their medical names and knew all their ingredients. Like everyone else around him, I was impressed with his knowledge and certain that he was an expert. One would think he had a degree in pharmacology. He always assured me that he didn’t need pills, that he could never become dependent on them. This difference in opinion resulted in many serious confrontations; I always compromised my integrity and ended up taking his viewpoint.

I began taking sleeping pills and diet pills too. Two Placidyls for him and one for me. A Dexedrine for him and one for me. Eventually Matt’s consumption of pills seemed as normal to me as watching him eat a pound of bacon with his Spanish omelet. I routinely took “helpers” in order to get to sleep after wild rides at the fairgrounds or early-morning jam sessions. And I routinely took more “helpers” when I woke up in order to maintain the fast pace and, more importantly, to study for my final exams.

During the last month before finals, I started popping more dexies than before. They seemed to give me the energy I needed to get through classes and homework. Every free moment was devoted to cramming a whole semester’s work into a few weeks. But my concentration was scattered; the strain of life at Graceland had finally caught up with me.

I had already been warned by Sister Adrian that in order for me to graduate, I had to pass all my subjects. During a talk in her office, I wanted desperately to confide in her and explained how hard it was to maintain my grade level with the late hours I kept: But how could I tell that to a nun?

I had no real goals after graduation, but I did sometimes dream of becoming a dancer or possibly enrolling in an art academy. Now I realize that I was deeply influenced by Matt’s casual attitude toward continued schooling. He figured I didn’t need it and I agreed. Just being with him most of the time would provide an education—not to mention experience—that no school could give me. He wanted me to be his totally, free to go to him in an instant if he needed me.

That sounded great to me. I’d never planned on a future without Matt. Therefore, while my classmates were deciding which colleges to apply to, I was deciding which gun to wear with what sequined dress. I was tempted to say to Sister Adrian, “Oh, by the way, Sister, does gunmetal gray go with royal blue sequins?” With that attitude it was no surprise that I was still woefully unprepared for my most hated subject, algebra, the week before finals.

On the day of the test, I sat in the crowded classroom, hyper from downing a dexy, trying to work out the problems. Despite my effort, I knew there was no way I was going to pass. I started to panic. I had to graduate. I had an obligation to Matt and to my parents, who I knew would yank me out of Graceland the minute I failed this test. I glanced at the girl next to me—and at her completed test paper. It’s my last resort, I thought. I’m going for it. I was not willing to face the consequences of being sent home for failing this test.

Her name was Janet and she was a straight A student. I tapped her on the shoulder and flashed my brightest smile, whispering, “Are you a Matt fan?” Taken aback by my question, Janet nodded yes. “How would you like to come to one of his parties?” I asked.

“Are you kidding?” she replied. “I’d love to.”

“Well, I know a way that it can be arranged.”

I eyed her test paper and explained. Janet instantly grasped my dilemma and, without a word, slid her paper to the edge of her desk. Now I had a full view of her answers. I spent the rest of the hour furiously copying them down and I not only passed, but I got an A on that test.

I hadn’t expected Matt to make much of my graduation. His attitude was, “A diploma’s not that important; life’s experiences are.” But to my surprise, he really looked forward to it and arranged to have a big party for our friends after the ceremony. There he presented a beautiful red Corvair, my first car.

On the big night he was like a proud parent. Nervous about what he should wear to the ceremony, he finally settled on a dark blue suit, and I put on my navy blue gown. I couldn’t possibly keep the cap on over that mass of teased hair.

Matt had a limo waiting for us out front. But there was one problem: I did not want him to come to the actual ceremony. It would attract a lot of attention, and all eyes would be focused on him instead of the graduating seniors.

Finally I worked up enough courage to ask him to wait outside, and explained why. Smiling his funny little grin, the one that came to his lips when he was hurt or upset, he agreed without hesitation. “I hadn’t thought about that,” he said. “I won’t come in. I’ll just be outside in the car waiting for you. That way I’ll kinda be there.”

And that was what he did. I accepted my diploma with mixed emotions. I would have loved for him to have been watching, but only I knew what a physical, emotional, and mental strain it had been to get that piece of paper. To me, it represented freedom, freedom to stay out until dawn if I wanted and sleep all day if I wanted. It represented freedom from my school uniform and from the teasing the entourage subjected me to every time they caught me in it trying to sneak past them at Graceland. I was a big girl playing in the big leagues.

As soon as I could get away, I ran outside. In front of the church, Matt and the boys were standing by the long black limo, looking like the Chicago Mafia in their dark glasses and suits, each concealing a.38. Around them a group of nuns were clamoring for Matt’s autograph.

Excerpt from: "Elvis and Me" by Priscilla Beaulieu Presley. Scribd. This material may be protected by copyright.

a/n - so cute🎀