Elvis One Shots/Imagines

It's Called Rubberneckin' Baby Pt 3 (NSFW)

A/N : this one shot that was meant to be like 600 words has blown out of proportion. Now we're on part 3. I just really like this song

The show had ended thirty minutes earlier and you stood outside in the dark waiting for Elvis to come out of his dressing room. Behind you, the carnival was thriving with its boisterous show tunes and rainbow funhouses. The two of you had planned to go back to your mama's house for some dinner. You were starving, and just about ready to kill Elvis for making you wait so damn long.

"What the hell," you mutter angrily, walking into the theatre and towards the back where his dressing room would be.

The room numbers and labels changed as you walked down the hallway, each dark and empty. There was no sign of life at all and for a brief moment you began to worry that Elvis had left without you. Then you turned the corner to the last room, where the door was open just an inch. Warm light cascaded on the crooked floors and you saw Elvis's handwriting on the door.

You made your way towards it, going to gently push it open. What you saw made you suck your breath in between your teeth, and you openly gawked.

Elvis was sat on a chair in front of his vanity, pointing towards the door. His head was thrown back, his chest taking deep, raking breaths as his hand bobbed up and down his cock. You looked at the lines of his throat, hollowed as he let out a small, deep moan.

You didn't know what to expect from this. Do you join him? Do you leave? Yes you had been dating for some time, and had done a fair amount of physical intimacy, but Elvis hadn't invited you to watch.

"Y/N..." Elvis moaned, increasing his speed. You blushed, realizing that he was thinking of you while he got off. For a second it even seemed like he was looking at you, absorbing you while he masturbated. His shirt was fully open and hanging on his sides as he lifted his hips. The hard planes of his stomach tightened and you felt your core tighten in response. Elvis was unraveling. He moaned deeply as his speed increased rapidly. You saw his thumb swipe over the tip of his penis and that was it. White, hot spurts came out onto the leg of his trousers and Elvis took deep, clutching breaths as he came down from his orgasm.

He went to clean himself up, tossing the tissues in the trash case. Then his gaze went to the door and you jumped to hide out of his line of vision.

"I see you rubberneckin' baby..." Elvis said in a sing song voice, and a moment later he swung the door open fully to see you standing there.

You were blushing like a mad man, surprisingly turned on by his masturbation and humiliated that you watched him. "I'm so sorry, Elvis."

"No worries baby, come on inside." Elvis held the door for you, then closed it after you entered. You wanted to die. This was just about the worst case scenario in every imaginable way. "No baby don't cry."

"Elvis, I just walked in on you... pleasing yourself and watched you like a total creep just cause the door was-" you paused, then smacked him lightly in the chest. "Elvis you hound dog! You set this up."

Elvis laughed slightly, taking your hand in his. "Guilty."

"Wha, why?"

A blush began to spread all over his face, and he stared at his feet before answering. "Well... it's been a fantasy of mine. You watchin' me, me watchin' you."

He sounded so embarrassed, like some teenager confessing to owning a playboy magazine. Your heart melted a little. "All you had to do was ask."

Elvis nodded, but still seemed a little embarrassed. You thought through what he had said and the entirety of the statement hit you. He wants to watch you. Just like you watched him, caught off guard and in the moment. That's why he hadn't told you. The idea that you were there at any minute turned him on even more than you sitting on the other side of the room.

"Elvis, baby, could you grab my coat from my car?" You asked sweetly, rubbing your hand up and down his arm.

"You don't wanna head home?"

"No, I'd like to look around for a bit."

"Okay doll," Elvis pecks you on the cheek and leaves the room. He left the door propped open just a bit and you decided to leave it that way.

You have limited time to get ready for the scene you wanted to set. Elvis wanted to watch and he wanted you to watch him. If you hadn't felt so guilty about 'walking in' on him, then you would have made it clear to Elvis that you did enjoy it. And now you wanted Elvis to enjoy it too.

You shucked off the top you were wearing, and unzipped the skirt. Underneath, you had worn a slip to keep everything in the front smooth and it might actually work in your favor this time. You took the chair and propped it in front of the vanity mirror but behind the door, that way Elvis would see you in the reflection. Then, you slid your underwear off your legs. This was the awkward part, finding a good pose. You sat on the chair with your hips more towards the front, then put a leg on each arm. It wasn't the most comfortable, but it showed everything and you thought Elvis would appreciate it. You even purposefully slid one of the straps down so your breast teased popping out.

In the mirror's reflection, you were completely splayed out. It showed part of the hallway, so you could see if someone else decided to accidentally walk in. That was a fear of yours, but it added to the appeal for Elvis and, honestly, yourself.

Then you copied him, in your own way. You threw your head back and began to lower your hands to your sex. Slowly, you dipped your index finger into your vagina then brought it up to your clit, rubbing with the collecting liquid. You were picturing Elvis in your mind, his strong form as he came off.

You imagined his hands on you, his long fingers circling your clit. His palms would be slightly calloused and his mouth would be kissing along your neck as he brought you home. All those times in the car, in the bed, times where you both stole moments of pleasure when no one else was looking. You moaned when you stuck two fingers inside yourself, using your thumb to stroke your clit. Your other hand came to grab your breast, pinching at the nipple.

"Fuck baby," Elvis's deep voice made you open your eyes and you saw him standing by the door, which he had now closed without you noticing, holding your coat. He was staring at you with the most intense expression.

You didn't stop your movements, in fact you picked up the pace all the while making eye contact with Elvis. Your pinches became harder, your strokes more urgent, and the sounds your wet folds were making were just sinful. Once more glance to Elvis and you threw your head. You loudly moaned Elvis's name, orgasming on your fingers. A warmth spread over your body, turning your limbs into jello.

You moved your legs back down and pulled the slip to cover your sex. Taking deep and long breaths you turned to look at Elvis.

A tent had formed in his trousers and he was staring at you like you were sent straight from the heavens.

"You liked it?" You asked in a breathy voice.

Elvis nodded, completely unable to speak. You stood and slipped your skirt back on. Elvis came to your side. He grabbed your head softly and kissed you with so much passion, you thought you might be ready for round two.

"God I love ya baby."