Misc. Erotica Rockstar Harem

Heather had been telling me to make an account for years, but always with a hint of trepidation as if she didn’t want me seeing what she got up to. She’d been a cheerleader, captain of the soccer team, and one of the three homecoming queens. I’d long since stopped keeping track of what she got up to on the weekends, always off partying on the lake or at a kegger with her girlfriends.

Nancy had been trying to get me on Instagram as well, showing me her profile and its thousands and thousands of followers. Her account seemed to be mostly women envious of her skincare routine, and the extravagant vacations she went on with her disinterested husband: that and the legion of men obsessed with the thirsty photos she posted weekly.

It wasn’t Heather or Nancy I looked up first. I was so far gone, I couldn’t even see it, as I pulled up Dillon’s profile and felt my heart sink to see it set to private. Heart hammering in my chest, I hit the follow button and then quickly set my phone down, turning it so I couldn’t see the screen.

My hand was trembling as I picked up my wine glass and took a sip.

What did I just do? I thought to myself, the blood rushing in my ears, It’s ok. I’ll just cancel it, he’ll never know what a silly old woman I am!

Just as I was reaching for my phone, it vibrated, and I knew before I turned it over what I would find. Sure enough, the notification across the screen said Dillon had accepted my request. I was muttering a silent oath when another notification popped up, and I opened the app before I could help myself.

Dillon: Hi, Mrs. Kowalski. I wanted to write you a letter, but I don’t have your address and tell you thank you again for the wonderful gift. In all honesty, I’ve neglected my chores because I can’t seem to put it down, my fingers are bleeding and nails are cracked, but I don’t think I’ve ever been given anything finer.

I read the message several times, feeling a lump form in the back of my throat and wiping away a small tear before typing back a response.

Me: It was my pleasure. You have a natural talent that I would love to nurture and see flourish.

Dillon: I don’t know about that, most of the time I can’t get the notes to sing as I want them to. Did you just sign up for IG? Or do you never log on? You’re not even following Heather lol.

Me: Don’t tease an old lady! Heather’s been asking me to make an account for years, but I don’t think she wants me snooping on her.

Dillon: you’re not an old lady Mrs. Kowalski, you’re beautiful

The comment sent a thrill through me, and I felt knots, I hadn’t realized were there, relax in my shoulders. Pushing the ideas that popped up in my head aside, I took another sip of wine before responding.

Me: Flattery will get you everywhere Hey, Heather said you blocked her?

There was a long pause before he typed out a response, and I saw the little bubble notifications pop up a few times before they disappeared. Finally, a reply came through, and my heart sank as I read it.

Dillon: Heather doesn’t remember this, I bet, but I asked her to a dance when I was a freshman. Dumb, I know. She laughed at me and said no. I was pretty angry and blocked her and most of her friends that night. TBH I forgot about it years ago. It was immature of me. What senior would go to a dance with a freshman?!

Me: never tell her I said this, but she was a bitch when she was younger!

Dillon: hahaha I won’t… and yea

I sat there, stomach filled with butterflies as I searched my brain for something else to say that would prolong our conversation, but Dillon beat me to it.

Dillon: I’m looking forward to tomorrow, I wrote a new song. Hope you like it. Have a good night Mrs. Kowalski and sweet dreams.

My heart set to beating again, and I typed out my response with shaking fingers.

Me: Do you have a video of it? Or a recording? I can’t wait until tomorrow!

Dillon: hahaha no, sorry I don’t have a way of taking those

I was about to tell him to use his phone but checked myself just in time. From the appearance of his house and clothes, there weren’t excess funds in his household for such frivolous expenses as a new phone.

Me: Goodnight Dillon

I kept myself from writing more and found that I couldn’t stop staring at the messenger window. I saw the little dots pop up on the bottom again, but he never sent whatever he’d been writing out. Feeling incomplete, I filled the bathtub and disrobed.

The hot soapy waters felt terrific on my skin, but the showerhead massager felt even better. I played Dillon’s song on an endless look on my phone, his deep voice bouncing off the walls and filling my being with wild lust. I ended up cumming several times before climbing out of the cooling waters on trembling legs.

Falling asleep, I kept redirecting my thoughts, trying not to acknowledge the truth staring me in the face. It was a restless night of sleep, as I kept tossing and turning, eventually getting up long before the sun was up and working out until sweat was pouring down me. I was out on a jog when the sun rose above the eastern horizon in a display of magnificence that reminded me once again of God's glorious creation.

Tuesdays are always slower around the office, with almost no emergency visits, things ran like a well-oiled machine. Nancy was full of breathless excitement about that evening, and I must confess her enthusiasm infected me as well. I fear that anyone listening in might have mistaken us for groupies heading to a Poison concert for how excitedly we talked about our outfits in between in-depth philosophical discussions about the nature of his music.

I sent Dillon a message in the afternoon, letting him know I would be bringing my friend over, but he hadn’t responded before I left for the day. Heading home, I touched up my make-up, threw on the dress and grabbed my music books and keyboard. Thankfully we live in a small town because Nancy and Dillon live on opposite ends of it. I drove through the tall blackened steel gate of the country club and wound my way up a man-made hill to her palatial estate.

I know she hated the mc-mansion like design of the house, but her husband wouldn’t be budged when they’d bought it. He’d been dead set on having the largest house in town. Even if he only spent a couple months a year there.

She was waiting outside when I pulled up and slid into the passenger seat. She looked stunning in her grey and black skirt and top. The rich material showing off her slender body to perfection. I was always envious of her tiny waist and butt, not to mention her firm round breasts that must be so much easier on her back than my gargantuan ones were. I never asked her what work she might have had done over the years to stay looking to perfectly youthful, that would have been rude, but whatever she’d had done, the surgeon was an artist.

“You look gorgeous,” Nancy said, flashing a white-toothed grin at me, and folding her hands in her lap nervously.

“Thanks,” I said, returning the smile, “so do you. I love the pearls.”

“Mmm,” Nancy reached up and rested a hand on the necklace of thick pearls and gave a half-smile, “Jeremy bought it for me for our fifth wedding anniversary. Fool man had no idea why I picked it out.”

“Why’d you pick it out?” I asked, not knowing the answer either.

“You need to properly bait the hook darling,” she said with a wicked smile but then turned and watched the countryside pass by as I drove us around town by country roads.

It was still a couple hours before sunset by the time we pulled down the narrow dirt road. Before I turned off my car, I caught a snatch of haunting music, just the barest sound, but it was enough to tug at powerful emotions.

Glancing over, I suppressed a smile when I saw Nancy adjusting her skirt and blouse nervously. The woman took a deep breath, settling her nerves before stepping out of the car. I was digging into the trunk and pulling out my music books and keyboard when the screen door opened with a squeal of hinges.

“You must be Dillon,” Nancy said, a warmth entering her voice that I rarely heard as she caressed the name, “I’m Nancy, Amanda’s friend.”

“Pleased to meet you,” Dillon said, a touch of nerves in his voice.

Holding the keyboard under one arm, I closed the trunk and grinned when Dillon’s brilliant blue eyes found mine. The look of curiosity on his face disappeared into a wide grin of pleasure. I felt a little zing of joy shoot down between my legs when his eyes bounced from mine, down to my plunging neckline, widening slightly before darting back up, a faint pink suffusing his cheeks.

“I hope you’re ready to get started,” I said, more excited for the lesson than I ever remembered being, “because I want to cover a lot of things.”

“Can’t wait,” Dillon said, “I made a pitcher of tea and lemonade, come on in. Both of you.”

He threw a nervous look at Nancy, but seemed like he was trying to ignore her. That is until the minx waltzed into his small house, heels clicking on the wood and her narrow hips swishing her little ass side to side. Dillon flinched at the sight but couldn’t seem to tear his gaze away from her ass until I stepped onto the porch and startled him out of staring.

He blinked and blushed even harder, looking down to avoid meeting my eyes and knowing smile. That just caused him to stare at my massive breasts, swaying in my sundress as I climbed the steps, with perhaps more force than was necessary. I had to press my lips together to keep from grinning in pleasure when he bit his bottom lip and couldn’t seem to look away until I was past him and in the small living room.

Nancy watched me walk in with a knowing smile, flashing me a wink before doing a slow spin in the room. Dillon shuffled in and led us into the kitchen, where he had two pitchers set up. Getting three cups out of the cupboard, he filled them with ice, hands shaking, and casting nervous looks at the two of us as he did.​