The Ing and I

The King and I - A Can of Peaches

Finally, my mother thought I was ready to take on projects of my own. She's a seamstress, she's been teaching me the craft for as long as I could remember. I am now 22 years old and have made a living sewing and designing on my own, for 2 years.

My mother generally didn't like my designs. She's very old fashioned and would rather make ball gowns and wedding dressings. I want to create clothes for dance performances, movie stars and singers. I want to make costumes!

We live right outside Memphis and one day my mom sat me down. "Lou," she said. (I hate my name Jean Louise and have been just Lou forever) "I heard about a special job. Elvis is back home in Memphis, preparing to launch a tour. He has a new sound and wants a new look. His people want to meet with 5 designers, see their work, then they will choose one to design all the costumes for the tour. It'll pay a TON of money and will probably make a career. They have chosen young unknowns from Memphis. I sent in some of your sketches and.....they called here today." I threw my arms around her neck "Thank you, thank you! I thought you hated my designs." "Your stuff is like you," she explained, "young and modern. I wouldn't wear them but you have an eye, attention to detail and real talent."

I was thrilled. I got the details on the people I'd be dressing and got to work on my sketches. For the tour, I'd have to create 10 outfits each for about 20 people in his group. I would go on tour and be in charge of wardrobe and changes. This was the opportunity of a lifetime. Besides, I LOVED Elvis. I'd been listening to his music for years, I'd seen all of his movies and I adored his style. I knew I could dress him!

On the day of the appointment, I drove my Dad's new '73 Ford Fairlane into Memphis early. I had a slow breakfast in a diner of coffee and Coca Cola , reading the paper, trying to treat today like any other. I was told to bring in multiple sketches and 2 complete outfits for the King, who would look at pictures and choose the winner.

I was dressed casually but stylishly. I had on my medium blue corduroy jeans with gentle bell-bottoms, (the huge bell was SO yesterday), 4 inch wooden platform sandals and my lucky blouse. I'd made it myself and it'd taken many trials and errors to get it just right but it's beautiful and unique and everytime I wear it, 20 people ask me where I got it then beg me to make one for them or sell this one off my back. The blouse is multiple shades of blue with silver and black, sewn in an intricate diamond pattern. The blouse was very hard to make but it was beautiful. What I was going for was movement. People often told me that the blouse reminded them of the water, that's exactly what I intended. The blouse has 4 buttons up the middle so when I moved you got a hint of navel above my pants and a lot of my chest, but no cleavage as I'm small busted. I loved this blouse, it was sexy but fun. I can be kind of shy but secretly, I love admiration and this blouse got me just the right amount of attention.

I felt good today and I know I looked good. I am 5'8" tall, a little on the slim side. I have a nice shape, I think, just on a slim frame. I have long legs, a cute butt and hips and high, proud breasts. I am a light skinned Black women (Negro is SO yesterday) with sleepy almond shaped eyes and a full mouth. A giant soft afro frames my heart shaped face. Most days I feel pretty regular, but today I felt confident, I felt BEAUTIFUL!

I was simply adorned with silver bangles halfway up one arm and my Rock. I loved diamonds. I wore a huge, expensive (man-made) diamond ring on my right ring finger. Sparkly and pretty, it was my promise ring to myself, I'd have a real one one day. Shoulder length silver hoop earrings completed my look.

I made it to Graceland with 15 minutes to spare. I'd seen it before but today I'd go inside! I tried to calm myself. A guard at the gate checked my ID and told me where to park. A lady met me at my car. She was short and shapely and very stylishly dressed. I mentally sized her and made notes on how I could make her outfit better. "Hi, I'm Ms. Tanner. I'll take you in to see everyone." She looked me up and down, staring at my blouse. She had a little smile on her face and didn't say anything else to me.

Ms. Tanner led me through room after room, each very gaudy and loud in decoration. Oh well, if I got the job I certainly knew who I'd be working for. We finally came to what looked like a dance studio. There was a row of tables in front of a wall of mirrors. There was a wardrobe rack to one side. "Hang your samples there and get your portfolio ready. There was a single chair in the middle of the room, facing the tables. "Sit there," she said and left. I decided not to be a sheep, to distinguish myself. I looked into a mirror, my fro was tight. My Cleopatra eyeliner and medium-blue eyeshadow were neat and in place. I was selling a package afterall. I quickly freshened up my frosty pink lipgloss and began to unpack.

I'd brought the required 2 outfits for Elvis. I also brought 4 other outfits for the Sweet Inspirations, his backing singers. I knew their names and had seen them so much I'd estimated their measurements with a little give. I knew I couldn't be far off.

Everything revolved around a central theme with small touches which when added or removed, would give each outfit a totally different look. Everything could be mixed and matched. It looked good if I must say so myself. I had multiple sketches, fabric and shoe samples. I was very confident and no longer nervous. I was in my element.

A back door opened. A line of people filed in. There were about 10 of them. I recognized Colonel Tom Parker and a few of the band members and Sweet Inspirations. I'd practiced my presentation and readied myself. I noticed them all looking at me, at the clothes, some nodding, whispering to each other. "Hello....JLou? That's....different. I am the Col and Elvis' manager. Welcome." It began.

The meeting went well, everything seemed to fall into place. I had everyone's complete attention. We discussed the cities of the tour and how the fashion differed from place to place, the dates and set lists, all things which would affect how I dressed everyone. I felt great, I was handling things well.

"Well, Miss JLou....I don't think we need to look any further. We have found what we're looking for. We think you and your designs are perfect for us. Welcome aboard," the Col. Said with a smile. I returned it in a daze. I got it! I got the job! This was the start of a great adventure. My skin prickled.....and then I almost died....

The back door again opened and Elvis walked in! He was wearing a navy blue dress shirt and black slacks. His hair was a little long and was swept back. He had a carefree, mischievous look on his face. He was beautiful. My jaw dropped. Silver floaties swam before my eyes. I knew what that meant, I should have tried to find a seat but I was paralyzed. I hated to look like a star-struck teenager, but I WAS star-struck. HE WAS BEAUTIFUL and he was staring, at me! The amount of floaters increased, I hit the deck.

I opened my eyes. I didn't know where I was. Elvis' face came into my line of vision. His hand, warm and heavy, was on my forehead. "Easy there Peaches, don't fade on me yet." His voice was smooth and deep, with a light Southern accent, it was warm like a hug. Oh God, I took a shaky breath and fainted again.

This time when I came to I was no longer in the audition room. I was lying on a white sofa with a compress on my head. Ms. Tanner was with me. Elvis was gone.

She was smiling, "Are you alright? We've never had someone faint twice. He does have an effect on people, especially ladies, but we've never seen this type of reaction." I was so embarrassed, I couldn't find my voice. I was an adult, and a professional. I felt like a dumb groupie.

"We've packed up all of your stuff. The Col. asked me to stay with you, feed you a little lunch and to give you this." She pressed an envelope into my hands. Of God, I was already fired. She smiled at me, squeezed my hand, and left.

I took a few deep breaths and opened the envelope. Inside was the Tour Itinerary, a detailed list of the outfits needed with everyone's heights and weights and measurements (I'd take my own anyway) and a check, A CHECK! In the memo line it said "Salary Advance." It was a nice check. I would have framed it, had rent not been due. A mimeograph would have to do.

My car was loaded. I drove home, totally excited. I told my mother everything.

The next few weeks were a blur. I practically lived at Graceland. I was, in fact, expected to move in before we left on tour. I was working with great textiles, 2 amazing seamstresses, and all of Elvis' people. I was creating things I was very proud of. It never ceased to amaze me how a well-placed pleat or a hidden seam could hide or display a body part.

I became close with Sissy, the unofficial "Diana" of the Sweet Inspirations. She was a beautiful black woman with big hair, a big voice and a big personality to match. She and I spent a lot of time laughing and talking, she hired me to make some pieces for her personal wardrobe. I had jobs lined up for months after the tour. I loved it.

We were like a family. We ate together, I watched them rehearse songs and choreography. I listened to the musicians polish their songs, all the while making mental notes as to the fit of their clothes.

Sometimes Elvis would be there. There was a particular energy when he was in the room. He was the life of the party. He was the sun and we all moved around him, warmed by his presence. He was cordial and polite but never really talked to me. I didn't faint again (I was still being teased)but I was glad we didn't really have to talk to each other, my mouth still went dry when he was around and I felt a little light-headed.

The plan was to save his design for last so he could have all my attention. His weight had fluctuated recently so the closer to our leave day I waited to make his clothes, the less alterations I'd likely have to make down the road. I got the weekend off, and another nice check, after I finished all the clothes for everyone else. I came in on Monday morning, fresh and rested, motivated and excited. Today I would start on Elvis' fittings.

I was shown to another wing of Graceland, his private suite. There was a bedroom, sitting room, and dressing room which looked like a boutique. Everything was season, color, and size co-ordinated. They'd set up a room off that room for me to work in.

Elvis kept me waiting. I looked around trying to stay calm. I was a professional and I would not embarrass myself, again.

"Good Morning," his beautiful voice interrupted my reverie. I took a deep and silent breath and turned to face him.

Oh Geez, it was electric. Looking at him quickened my pulse. I fought to control my breathing and to push the silver floaters away. He and I were alone. He was in his bathrobe (bathrobe?!?!?!?!)

"Hey Peaches, not gonna inspect the floors up close again are you?" He laughed, it broke the tension. It was going to be okay. The morning went by smoothly, we had work to do and we did it. I measured every inch of his body and fitted him to the outfits I'd already made. I was almost dead-on with sizing and would have to make only minor adjustments.

The one embarrassing moment came when I was fitting him to a particularly snug pair of pants. I was on my knees in front of him, tape measure, pencil and pins at the ready. I cleared my throat and looked up "Do you dress left or right?" I avoided looking into his eyes, feeling myself redden from my neck up my cheeks and to the tips of my ears.

I could hear him smile "Pardon me? What's that mean, DRESS left or right?"

"What side of the middle seam do you tuck your privates onto, the left or the right?" I looked up, not appreciating being teased.

"Well Peaches, I never thought about it. Where am I now?" Nasty bastard. I loved him and lusted after him but I would not allow him to treat me like a tramp. I stood up to face him, ignoring my burning cheeks.

"I am here to do a job. Either you will let me or you won't. AND my name is Lou, JLou or Jeannie, NOT Peaches!" I was almost yelling. I turned to walk away and felt him take my arm. He gently turned me to him. "Know why I call you Peaches?" He was standing so close to me I could feel his breath on my face, smell his cologne. He was looking me right in the eyes and holding my hands. He was intoxicating. Fuck, I felt myself blush some more.

"People call light-skinned black girls Peaches, among other things," I answered for him.

"I always loved me a can of Peaches. " He reached up and took my face in his hands. He kissed me, it was soft and warm. His lips were so sweet. He kissed me again, just with his lips. Oh God, I almost pissed myself then and there. He broke away and looked into my eyes.

"You mad at me Peaches?" I whispered no. He brought my face to his again and gave me sweet little kisses on my mouth, then my cheeks, my neck. He came back to my mouth, kissing me repeatedly. I could barely catch my breath, I felt lightheaded. I didn't worry about anything, nothing. I was very present in the moment. My heart was pounding, I closed my eyes.

He broke away and looked at me. I wanted to freeze this moment, little did I know the best was yet to come. He took me by the hand and walked me to the bedroom. My heart was pounding. I pushed aside all my "good-girl" thoughts, stopped thinking about what my panties looked like or if they matched my bra. I was not star-struck, I was awestruck. This was Elvis the singer but I probably would have lusted over Elvis the postman much the same way.

We sat on the side of the bed and kicked our shoes off. We lay down on our sides, facing each other. He began to kiss my mouth and face and neck again. Oh God, he put his hands on me, touching me gently, everywhere. He rubbed his thumbs across my nipples through my blouse, they tightened, aching to be touched for real. His hands were big and strong. My body was on fire, I wanted him so badly. I am usually reserved but I wasn't now. I rubbed his chest, stroked his arms.

He was unbuttoning my blouse, unhooking my bra (with one hand!) and suddenly, FINALLY, he stuck his tongue in my mouth. The way he kissed me must be exactly what they meant French Kissing to be when they created it. He alternated between French and closed-mouth kissing. He took his time, it was so good. I was hungry and wanted more. He rolled me onto my back and rubbed my breasts. I lifted my body toward him. "Easy Peaches." He nibbled my neck, kissing his way down, taking a nipple into his mouth. He held it gently between his teeth and tickled it with his tongue. He played with the other one with his hand. I writhed against him. He kissed around my breasts, taking my nipples in his mouth then moving away, blowing them. It was sweet agony.

His hands were on my hips, he was opening my jeans. I helped, wiggling out of them and my panties. Thank God they were my cute pink ones. He kissed my stomach, my navel, massaging my hips. Oh God, do it, do it I thought. I was dying, please please. I felt like a virgin, the clumsy fumblings I'd done for the past year with Percy in his back room, in the car, in the woods, had been fun but it was NOTHING like this and we weren't even doing it yet. I was so hot. He kissed below my navel. He rubbed his face in my pubic hair, breathing on me and breathing me in. part of me wanted to stop him, I'd never let Percy put his face there, but I was open. I wanted everything he had to give me. I decided not to think about what was next. I relaxed, sighing as he kissed my inner thigh and I let go. I decided to live.

He sat up and took his shirt off. I felt drunk. I wanted him so badly. He reached down and rubbed his hand in a slow gentle line from my nipples to my navel then lower. He detoured to my inner thighs, massaging with his hands, following with his mouth, kissing, nibbling. I grabbed his head in my hands "Please," I moaned "Please what?" he said, rubbing his face in my bush. "Please," I whimpered, I could not say it. I reached with my body toward him.

He touched me. He rubbed his thumb up and down my lips. When he felt my wetness he groaned. He rubbed me slowly, from my clit to my opening. He leaned in and holding me open, took a long loving taste.

"Sweet Jesus!" I yelled and sat straight up, fireworks going off in my brain, the silver floaters took over my vision. I definitely was not going to faint. Did sex make you faint? He licked me slowly, nibbling my inner and outer lips, sticking his tongue inside me. He kissed me there the way he kissed my mouth. Oh God, this was enough, this was too much.

I thought I'd had orgasms before. I hadn't. I had my first one now. I felt hot and cold, broke out in a thin sheen of sweat. Lady be fucked. I grabbed his head and grinded into him. He kept up his relentless, maddeningly slow pace. He was using his tongue, his lips, even his nose. He was so slooowww. He was making me crazy. I came again. "Stop." I sat up again, breathless and flushed. "Too much, wait, stop."

"Oh Peaches, sweet sweet peaches," he said, going back to work, careful to avoid my hypersensitive clitoris. I was swollen and throbbing, he was still at it, making love to me with his mouth. I was in Heaven. I couldn't wait any longer. I pulled him up by his ears. He took his time, kissing his way back up to my mouth. I reached down and unbuckled his belt, opened his pants and reached for him. It was hot thick and hard. I wanted to feel it. We kicked his pants off and he lay on top of me, easing his way into me, all the way. He pulled out all the way, again really slowly. I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him as close to me as I could. We never stopped kissing and touching. I was making love! I was being made love to! This was it! THIS was the shit that made all sins forgivable. Oh God, I came again.

Elvis pulled out and rolled me over, pulling me up onto my knees. He entered me from behind. I felt a whole new set of sensations. He was holding my hips, kneading them, pushing into me, pulling me into him. I was sweating and moaning, moving with him, loving how it felt, slow and deep, slow and deep.

He moved me again, laying me on my right side, lifting my left leg onto his shoulder. He kissed my foot and ankle and entered me again. In this position it hurt a bit. I winced and tensed a bit. "Oh Peaches, it's okay, relax" he leaned in, kissing me some more, still moving his hips. It was good, different and good.

Oh, I was feeling so much, all over. Elvis was kissing me, touching me inside and out, loving me. He was loving me and it was too much. I began to shake. I was having a huge orgasm. The silver floaters were back. He increased his speed, but just a little bit. He was loving me slowly and completely. It was too much. I exploded. A gush of fluid escaped me. I began to cry. I was shaking, crying, coming. He was STILL kissing me, my face now, my tears and still loving me, faster, but not fast. I was moving with him, coming and crying "Is it good to you, is it good Peaches?" "Yes, yes, yesss!!," I matched his movements as he moved faster, slamming me, gently. "It's so good, please don't stop, don't stop." I watched him through my tears. His eyes were closed, his forehead furrowed, his ears red. He was beautiful, so beautiful. No matter what happened tomorrow, or even 10 minutes from now, at this moment, he was mine. He was giving me so much. My shoulders quaked. I was crying and orgasming, moving with him to bring him his. He whispered "I'm coming, I'm coming" I felt his member stiffen as he moved a bit faster, a bit harder and watched his face as he came. He moaned his climax into my ear.