50 Waves of Passion - the Complete Series: Box Set (8 page)

His hand was warm, and his fingers slightly calloused from the guitar strings. She smiled at him, her hope and excitement causing her face to flush. He sat her back down and strutted doff, his butt looking so hot in his skin tight jeans that she had to fan herself with the reserved sign on her table.

A few women shot her envious looks. She ignored them.

The set ended and the people at the tables began to drift away, most talking or laughing, their gaiety a bright mark in the night.

“Wait pretty lady.”

Oh God, his voice. It was deep, tinged with a hint of the Deep South and smoky with sex. Her nipples hardened painfully as she turned around. “I’m sorry?”

“I said wait pretty lady.” He drew closer. A faint sheen of sweat stood out on his handsome face. “How about you have a drink with me?”

“Okay. I mean, I would like that.” She was blushing! Her face was heated and her body even hotter. She licked her lips and said, “Do you like champagne?”

“I do, and I am buying. But you have to do something for me.”

Her tongue came out and snaked across her lips. “What?”

“You have to tell me your name pretty lady.”

“Carla.” Her heart slammed painfully against her ribs.

“What a beautiful name. But of course you have a beautiful name, you are a beautiful lady.”

“Thank you.” Her legs squeezed together. His eyes held hers, and in the sleepy depths, she saw desire. “Maybe we could have that champagne somewhere a little more private?”

"Of course. I could show you to your room.”

“I would like that very much.”

His fingers went to her back, right above the little bundle of nerves that lay at the top of her tailbone. It was a gentle but commanding thing and she moved forward, his hip brushing hers. He stopped at the bar and whispered something to the bartender who nodded. They walked on, his fingers lying lightly on her lower back and the smell of his cologne drifting to her nose.

She risked a peek over. His full lower lip had a definite and well-defined curve, and his eyelashes were thick, black and lush.

They reached her room and she opened the door. The champagne sat in a heavy silver urn, condensation dripping from its side. It had been opened, and two tall flutes sat nearby. Elvis poured it for them and they sat on the sofa, their legs touching and his fingers resting lightly on the glass and her knees.

His fingers stroked along the material of the dress so softly that he never disturbed the fabric but she felt the weight and heat of his caress on her skin anyway.

He said, “So what brings a pretty girl like you to a place like this?”

"I was hoping to hear some good old rock and roll.” Her lips drew into a pout that she hoped was sexy. His eyes went to her mouth and he shifted in his seat. A quick glance down showed her that he was filling out his pants nicely there in front.

He put his arm around her and said, “I love music. I always have.”

“Oh, I have a few records.” She did, they were in their little paper sleeves, carefully packed and nestled near the little record player that sat in a nifty little portable case. She got up and placed her favorite 45 on the turntable, smiling as the song filled the cabin.

Elvis stood and took her by the hand, sweeping her into his arms. The cabin was not huge but it had enough space that they managed to dance. Her arms were around his neck and his hands slid down to her waist, holding her steady as they rocked and swayed across the room, the waves form below causing them to have to lean against each other just a little more than they would have under other circumstances.

His cock pressed against her lower belly, a hard little nudge that made her smile. He was singing along with the record, just a soft accompaniment and his cheek smelled of aftershave. His skin was as smooth and flawless as she had always imagined it to be and his muscles, under the jacket and tee shirt, were supple.

“You must think me rude,” she said as the song ended. “Here, let me help you take that jacket off.”

He stood still while she slid the old well-oiled leather free from his arms and shoulders. The muscles in his biceps were even more obvious now and she let her fingers linger on his arms for a moment before she turned away and hung the jacket neatly over a chair.

The next record dropped and he asked, “Would you care to dance again?”

She nodded. His arms went around her waist and she laid her head on his shoulder, letting it all just sweep her away. Even without the jacket, his shoulder smelled faintly of leather. His hands ran along her back, stopping just short of her bottom. Her hips pressed closer to him, and that bulge grew thicker, longer and a little exhale of breath told her that he had not missed that movement of hers.

Her head tilted back and she put a coquettish look on her face, pursing her lips just slightly. His came down. His mouth was warm and soft but firm. His hands rested on her waist and then they moved, sliding down the cool slopes of her ass before cupping them and pulling her even closer.

Her hips wriggled and she wished, really wished, she had foregone that girdle because it was quickly becoming saturated with her fluids.

His tongue snaked into her mouth and her head dropped back even further. His breath blew into her mouth as her tongue twined around his and her hands moved along the wide and strong span of his shoulders.

His eyes looked even sleepier when he pulled away. She let him take her by the hand and lead her to the bed, little shivers erupting over her body as he did so. Elvis undressed her slowly, sensually. His tongue found every bared bit of flesh and his hands caressed her in ways she had never known it was possible to be touched. The bra went first, leaving her nipples free and vulnerable to the onslaught of his tongue and teeth and lips. He squeezed the fleshy globes while the peaks hardened in his mouth and her hips pressed against his again as he cupped her ass cheeks again and then carefully removed the girdle, the stockings, the garters and the shoes.

Fully naked and shivering she stared at him, her desire so huge that glistening fluids leaked from her wet center and smeared her inner thighs.

Elvis began to strip, bringing his washboard abs and long powerful legs into view.

His cock was thick and wide, sticking upward from a nest of black pubic curls. The lights from overhead shone down on his coal-black hair and he moved toward her, his cock trembling slightly as he pushed her backward onto the bed. His tongue found her nipples again and then moved lower.

Her legs parted and she cried out as his tongue slid between her swollen and soaked labia to find her clit. His tongue pressed against it then began to massage it in slow but firm strokes that made her hands grip the sheets and her ass jerk sharply upward.

His mouth was hot and wet. His breath blew across her wetness, making her cry out and he continued to slowly lick and suck at her pussy, driving her nearly insane with want. Her cries grew louder and more desperate with every swipe of his tongue.

His fingers parted her lips, went deep within her. Her legs drew up and back and she took his fingers in, her passion rising higher with every thrust and withdrawal. Her legs shook and she felt her orgasm rising.

She did not want to come yet. She pushed him away and whispered, “No, let me make you happy.” She rolled over as he lay down and she crawled along his body, her tongue flickering across his nipples and down his smooth flat belly to the black curls that surrounded his fat throbbing dick. Her hands traced the blue veins wrapped around every inch of his turgid dick, her let her tongue rest on the head, feeling the silky smoothness of it before she began to lick the shaft, long slow licks that left his cock shining and wet.

Her breath hit the wetness and his cock gave a tremendous twitch She cupped his balls in her hand and then she took him into her mouth and then down her throat, applying pressure as she squeezed his balls gently in time to the rhythm her mouth set.

Not hurrying she began to lovingly suck his cock. Her tongue swirled around his as she sucked and her fingers reached below his balls to the sensitive area just between them and his asshole. He groaned and his fingers dug into her hair, leaving tingling little trails as his nails scratched her tender scalp.

Unable to stand it anymore she released him from her mouth and moved upward, straddling him. Her pussy opened as his cock pressed against the entry to her channel and she flattened her hands on his chest, moving downward with one powerful thrust.

He filled her entirely, and she whimpered as she felt his cock slide along the soaked and slippery walls of her pussy. Her nails left little scratches on his chest as she lifted her hips and lowered them again, her ass trembling as she strove to get more of him inside her.

He cupped her bottom and then he rolled them over so that he was on top. His hips moved with power and his hands gripped her shoulders tightly as he thrust into her over and over, his eyes closed and his top teeth pressing into his sensual bottom lip.

She cried out, the orgasm that she had let wait no longer willing to be denied.

Long streamers of come began to shoot from her pussy and she cried out, her hips bucking and arching furiously as she came. He moved faster, her hands went back to his ass cheeks, feeling the flex of those impressive muscles as he pounded into her.

She came again. Her mouth hung open in a cry and sweat covered her body. She shook all over as she went rigid, her muscles tensing as she hovered there, torn between friction and heat and need before more sugary sweet fluids poured out of her body and covered his cock.

He came too, a long and almost inarticulate cry burst form his mouth and he collapsed on top of her, shuddering and with his hips still thrusting furiously as his seed splattered and ran into her body then dripped down her ass crack and onto the sheets below.

Carla lay there, breathing slowly as the afterglow of good sex set in. Elvis grew flaccid and withdrew from her, his powerful body shone with sweat and his hair was slightly mussed. He glanced at the clock and then back at her.

He cuddled her, his hands drawing out small patterns across her skin. “You are not like other girls,” he said in his slow Southern drawl.

Carla laughed, “No, I never have been, and you are not like other men.”

“Is that right?” His raven black eyebrow tilted slightly. “I’m just a good old Southern boy who likes to sing.”

‘Yes and you changed, change everything.” She knew this was not really Elvis but to her he was and here, at the Nyx, that was possible. A dozen things danced on her tongue. She wanted to tell him to never wear a damn cape, never wear those god-awful rhinestones and sequined jumpsuits, to stay off the pills ad booze but she knew it would do no good.

Elvis had been gone a long time. This Elvis was fleeting and he would go too, although she did not know where. She said, “Sing me a song, Elvis.”

He asked, “What would you like to hear?”

She smiled, “I don’t care, anything you want to sing.”

He launched into a low and soft version of Blue Suede Shoes. Carla let her face rest on one hand as she watched him sing. The light played across his face and a slow sense of fulfillment came to her. She had a feeling that this was what she had really wanted. To be free of the obsession that had kept her from really committing to anyone else because she was in love with someone who could never be hers.

He rolled over to get out of the bed. “I’m sorry pretty lady, I have to go. My bus is rolling out and the Colonel will be really angry if I am not on it.”

“I know.” There was a huge, satisfied smile on her face. “Maybe we will meet again.”

“I’m here every so often,” he said and began to dress, his fingers running through his hair every occasionally as he skinned into his jeans and white tee shirt, then the leather jacket and heavy boots. “Maybe you will be here again too.”

‘You never know,” she said.

“You have a good night.”

“You too, Elvis.” Her voice faded away as he went out the door and closed it softly behind himself.

Carla looked up at the ceiling and said, “Ladies and gentlemen, Elvis has left the building.”

***

The cruise was over. Carla strolled down the gangway and out to her car, sitting there waiting for her. She opened the door and got in, put the top down and tied the scarf around her hair. She took a fond look at the Nyx, sitting at anchor on the pier, its clean white lines shining in the bright afternoon sun.

That had been one experience she would never forget, and she knew it. It had been everything she ever wanted and now she was had to get home because she had to be at the dress shop for a fitting. She was making her very first wedding gown for another fifties loving woman and she smiled as she cranked the car and began to drive toward the city.

“Maybe I should suggest she has her bachelorette party on the Nyx,” she said and a huge grin lit her face. “Maybe she likes Elvis too, or Tab Hunter, or Rock Hudson. Oh God, I know who would love Rock Hudson! Jimmy!”

Laughing, she pressed one sandaled foot to the gas and left the Nyx behind.

The End