Misc. Erotica Rockstar Harem

“Dillon,” I breathed, the final notes still hanging in the air, carrying my emotions along with them, “That was incredible. You have an incredible talent.”

“Thanks,” he said, blushing a deep crimson and ducking his head at the compliment, hair falling across his face.

“You’ve never taken lessons?” I asked again, finding it hard to believe. The finger placements hadn’t been perfect according to classical guitar, but they’d produced clear, sharp notes.

“This is the second time I’ve held a guitar,” he said with a half-smile, “I had a keyboard for a couple days when I was a kid,” he shifted uncomfortably before going on, “but Dad said the sound was annoying and music was for wimps, so he sold it.”

“Then I know how you can repay me for the guitar,” I said, trying to keep the excitement out of my voice, not wanting to scare him off, “Let me give you music lessons. I’m not a master, but I can teach you to play the guitar and even the piano if you want to learn.”

“Really?” Dillon asked, his face filling with excitement and hope for one second, before it fell again, “I couldn’t take lessons for free, that wouldn’t feel right, and I can’t pay you, I’m sorry. Also, with the farm… I really don’t have a lot of free time.”

“You don’t have to pay me,” I said, but when I saw his eyes go flat and that foolish manly pride rearing its head, I went on, “Or better yet, you can pay me when and if you earn money as a musician.”

“People still pay musicians?” Dillon asked with a laugh, “It seems like everything I hear nowadays is electronically produced.”

“A lot of it is,” I said with a nod, “But if you’re talented, there are always opportunities to play. With your voice, though, you could really go places in the business.”

“Ok,” Dillon said with a crooked grin, “now I know this is a prank. I don’t even have fifteen Instagram followers. I’m never going to be a star.”

“You think the next rock god is going to come from the pool of silly fools who call themselves influencers?” I laughed; my best friend Nancy and I were always joking about this same thing. “You think Mick Jagger, Janis Joplin, or Kurt Cobain were loved because they had abs and a nice tan? It was because they created music that moved the soul. Because they stood on a stage and did a thing better than anyone else could, with confidence beyond arrogance. Steven Tyler wouldn’t have had more than twenty followers if he couldn’t transport the listener into his world with only the sound of his voice.”

“You’re really passionate about this,” Dillon said, his blue eyes staring at me with keen interest, “I love listening to you talk.”

“Sorry,” I said, blushing and realizing, I’d leaned forward as I spoke, face so close to his I could smell the floral notes of the soap he’d used.

For one frozen moment, our eyes held one another’s, and I thought he might kiss me, not sure if I was horrified or excited by the prospect. The moment passed, and I jerked back, standing quickly and smiling to take the sting of my sudden retreat.

“I tend to carry on sometimes. My daughter says it's my worst trait. Are you free Tuesday afternoon for a lesson?”

“I’ll be free after seven,” he said, unable to meet my eyes after that awkward moment.

“Perfect,” I said, “I’ll come by then.”

I climbed into my car and backed down and out of the lane. Waving goodbye and trying not to stare in my rearview mirror at the young man as I drove off. My heart was racing, and I felt guilty for some reason. Telling myself, I was being silly, I drove straight home, eager to see if the video I’d taken on my phone had come out or not.

Heather's little Honda Civic was still parked outside when I pulled into the driveway, and I could hear her talking to a friend in her room as she packed. Hurrying into the kitchen, I poured myself a large glass of wine and pulled out my phone.

Starting the video and turning up the sound, I leaned on the counter, sipping my wine as I watched Dillon. On the first note, I closed my eyes, the music once again transported me to that secret happy place it had taken me on the porch.

Playing it again, I kept my eyes open this time, unable to look away from the passion and intensity in his face as he sang. The dirty shy boy I’d first seen, running scared as a rabbit out of the church's Music Room, was unrecognizable in the video.

As he began to sing actual words, he glanced up, staring at me with a fierce desire I hadn’t noticed earlier, those brilliant blue eyes burning with an inner fire that set my heart hammering in my chest. Then his words rang out, and the guilt swept in once again.

“Who’s that?” Heather asked, her voice a mixture of curiosity and awe as she walked up and looked over my shoulder, “Damn… he’s hot… Is that on YouTube? Hold on, Jen, I’m asking her,” moving the phone from her ear, she nodded at my phone, “Is that an old band or something?”

“You don’t recognize him?” I asked with a crooked smile.

“That’s pig pen?!” she asked incredulously, “Shut up.”

“It’s Dillon,” I said, nodding, “I brought him a guitar tonight, plan on giving him lessons. He played this for me.”

When the lyrics started up again, I happened to be looking at Heather's face. If I hadn’t seen the quick emotions flitting across her features, I wouldn’t have believed it. Unable to break her gaze away from the video, I saw my daughter fall in love, fan-girl-style, right before my eyes.

“Dude… Jen, are you listening to this?” Clicking her speak button, the electronic voice of her college roommate sounded out in the kitchen.

“His voice is haunting… you have to send me that video. Yuki is in here too, and she says if you don’t send it to her too, she’s going to use all your body wash.”

“Don’t touch my body wash!” Heather said, laughing, “I’ll be back in a couple hours, see you soon.”

“Later bitch,” Jen said,

“Send the video!” Cried another girl from the background.

Heather hung up, cutting off the laughing girls with a roll of her eyes. Wrapping one arm around me, she gave me a quick hug and ran upstairs.

“Text me the video!” She called as she grabbed her bags and clean laundry. “Love you Mom, see you next weekend!”

“Drive safe!” I called after her, watching her pack up her car and drive off, while waving from the kitchen window.

As my daughter drove off, I felt strange, usually seeing her drive away made me sad and lonely. I would often spend the night looking through old photos, missing my little girl, and when we used to be friends. This night I felt strangely free, like a kid whose parents had left them home alone unexpectedly.

Refilling my wine glass, I sat on the couch to watch some TV, but I couldn’t focus on my show. After a few minutes, I muted it and pulled out my phone. I felt a happy little buzz from the wine as I slouched down and unbuttoned my jeans, getting comfortable.

I couldn’t look away from the video, not only was the music so pure and true, reaching down into my soul, but Dillon was so compelling and electrifying on-screen. He had undeniable chemistry with the camera. Reaching over to take another sip, I found to my surprise that I’d already finished the wine. Setting the glass down, I slid my hand down my stomach and into the waistband of my pants.

Guilt and shame washed through me for a terrible moment, and then those gorgeous eyes stared straight into my soul, and I was lost in the pleasure of his voice and my own wicked fantasies. All of my teenage crushes had been about rock stars until I was old enough to learn that no matter how pretty I might be, no Rock God was going to wander into my town and carry me off.

Only this time I was older and wiser, I should have known better than to dream of a nineteen-year-old, simply because his voice tickled places inside me, and his intense stares made me weak in the knees.

My first orgasm hit me quick and hard, but there was no stopping me. By the time I picked myself up off that couch, my jeans were a mess, and my arm ached, but I felt a warm glow emanating from the center of my being, despite the warning voice in my mind.

I collapsed in bed, after stripping naked on my way there, and passed out with the video playing on a loop. I woke in the middle of the night with a start, feeling a deep fear and sadness that I couldn’t pinpoint until I realized my phone had died and the music cut off. Plugging it in, I rolled over and fell back asleep, my dreams now dreary and dull.​