Misc. Erotica Rockstar Harem

We were both laughing as she pulled into the narrow curving driveway at the end of the street. Dillon ran out as soon as we pulled in, wearing a simple white t-shirt and blue jeans. A week before, my eyes might have passed over him a dozen times without noticing him, as I’m sure most would, but once I’d heard the sweet sound of his music, and that deep, strong voice… something had clicked within me, and I couldn’t help but notice him now. The sight of him was all wrapped up in the charisma he showed when lost in a song, and an unknowable quality that made me crave the ability to know what he was thinking.

“This is a beautiful car Ms. Stevens,” Dillon said when he slipped into the backseat, feeling at the plush white leather with a delighted grin.

“Ms. Stevens?” Nancy snarled like an angry cat, turning a raised eyebrow on him, “Really?”

“Sorry, Nancy,” Dillon said with a faint red in his cheeks, then added with a grin, “At least I didn’t call you ma’am.”

“You’re not that cruel,” I said with a smile, “how’s your morning going?”

“I’ve been distracted,” Dillon said with a lopsided smile.

“Us too,” Nancy said, flashing a sexy grin in the mirror as the car slowly backed us down the driveway.

“I didn’t mean that,” Dillon said, his faint blush deepening, “Or not only that. I wrote a couple songs this morning. I couldn’t sleep after… you know, and just lay in bed for hours until I decided to look up some guitar players on YouTube. There are some amazing players. I got lost on this one kids' page for hours… kinda got inspired by that.”

“Who did you watch?” I asked.

“I’ll have to check on my laptop. I forget his name, but he’s a young Korean kid who plays with this style… fingerpicking something.”

“I think it’s just called fingering,” I said, my own cheeks blushing a deep red.

“You’re going to have to show me this fingering you learned,” Nancy said, her grin now positively wicked as she shifted in her seat.

“Which one?” Dillon said, his matching grin causing me to laugh along with him.

The parking garage was empty when we pulled in, and I almost asked Nancy why she drove up to the second floor, but then I saw all of the dark little alcoves tucked away on the upper floors. Those places would typically seem so dangerous when I was here alone, but now I just saw private little places where we might get up to no good.

Nancy pulled into a spot way in the back and shut off the engine. There was a half-second of tension as she and I looked at one another, the same thought on both our minds, our hips wiggling in excitement. Then Dillon had the door open and was out of his seat and walking into the lit parking garage before either of us could speak.

We shared frowns of disappointment that caused me to laugh, seeing what ridiculous sex mad cougars we were acting like. Climbing out of the car, I grabbed my purse and straightened my outfit. It was a conservative top and long skirt, perfect for the office, and one of my favorites. I found myself wishing I’d dressed in something that hugged my physique a bit when I noticed Dillon’s eyes trailing up and down Nancy’s form, in her skintight skirt and top.

The woman always dressed in the most elegant couture outfits that set off her surgically enhanced body to best effect. I found myself appreciating her swaying hips as well, as she walked a few feet before us, heels clicking on the pavement. Flashing a grin and wink back at us, Nancy strutted like a proud rooster with our gazes on her.

The mall was empty on a weekday afternoon, and I cursed inwardly that there would be no crowds to hide us from Kelly if she came looking. I didn’t feel self-conscious walking beside the young man, just the opposite, in fact. It felt strange to me that no one knew that a true genius walked amongst them.

“You wanted to come to the mall for lunch?” Dillon asked, looking around with a frown.

“Eat? Here?” Nancy said with an incredulous snort, “Hardly. We’ll grab something on the way back. We’re here to get you a new cell phone.”

“Ms. Stevens, that’s far too kind of you,” he said stopping in place, a pained expression on his face, “You’ve both been so nice to me, but I can’t accept such generosity.”

I’d had enough of this foolish pride and grabbed his wrist, dragging him over to one of the benches set between some ferns against a wall.

“Sit,” I said, pointing at the bench, and he sat, slowly frowning up at me.

I felt a flush of pleasure to see the strength in him, but it was time we got some things straight.

“You remember what Nancy spoke of last night? About you playing your music for the world?”

“She was just joking,” he said with an easy smile, “it’s a nice dream, but stuff like that doesn’t just happen to people. You have to get super lucky, and I don’t know… be gorgeous, wise, and cool, like Beyonce or something.”

“I did this for a living,” Nancy said, “Once upon a time, and I was good at it. I won’t pretend to know anything about music, but I know when someone has it, that star quality that makes people take notice of them, and you have it.”

“I really don’t,” Dillon said, the easy joking manner was gone, and a frown of annoyance replacing the smile, “If that was true, I wouldn’t have been treated like shit all throughout high school.”

“You trust the opinions of idiotic kids over us?” I asked, causing him to frown.

“Look,” he said, “I just know, what I know. You’re both lovely, but I don’t think you can just say that I’m going to be some rock star or something, and that’s that. I love to play, hell, if there is something deeper than love, then that’s what I feel when I am making music, but there’s nothing particularly special about it.”

“Just humor me for a moment,” Nancy said, sitting down beside him and taking his hand in hers, “Say it was possible. Say, tomorrow you could press a button and go make music for a living. Would you do it?”

“In a heartbeat,” he said quickly.

“With everything that comes with it?” I asked, knowing he hadn’t given it full thought, “Think of the life, and the lifestyle you would have to lead.”

He sat there for long moments, face thoughtful before looking up. Those brilliant blue eyes regarding us with quiet strength.

“Honestly, it’s always been a dream of mine. But I couldn’t deal with all the stuff that would come with it.”

“What if you had help?” Nancy asked, “People you trusted that could handle all of that?”

“Except your money,” I said firmly, “You should always make sure you’re the only person signing your checks. I learned that much watching Behind the Music.”

“Yea, VH1 taught everyone that lesson. I guess that wouldn’t be so bad,” Dillon said, “but who could I ask to sign up for all of that?”

“If you want me to, I can represent you in contract deals or any negotiations you have.” Nancy said, “I wouldn’t take a percentage, and I’d make sure to get you the best deal possible.”

“You’d be willing to do that?” Dillon asked, slightly taken aback.

“Are you kidding?” Nancy said with a grin, “Honey, what do you think this whole conversation is about? We’re trying to help you see that not only will you be a major success, but Amanda and I want to help you get there. Any way we can.”

“Ok,” he said, nodding slightly, a small grin on his lips, “let's do it.”

“You mean it?” I asked.

“This is all hypothetical, right?” Dillon asked with a crooked grin, “You don’t honestly think I would become some big rock star. I mean… I was a nerd in school.”

“You really don’t know anything,” I said, shaking my head, reaching down I grabbed his wrist and hauled him to his feet and started leading up to the stairs. “Come with me, I’m going to prove something to you.”

“Amanda?” Nancy asked, hurrying up and joining us, as I led the way to the second floor.

She saw where I was headed almost immediately and flashed me a curious look, but I just replied with a wink. The mall was mostly empty, but I hoped there would be enough people to prove my point. Walking with purpose, I led the two of them into the large music supply store.

“What are we doing here?” Dillon asked curiously.

“You’re going to play an electric guitar,” I said. “Right here in the middle of the store.”

“That doesn’t seem very polite,” Dillon said with a grin, “I wouldn’t want to force anyone to hear-.”

“Fucking poser,” came a snide voice from behind the counter, where a tall, lanky fellow with a ratty beard and a full sleeve of tattoos stood up, crossing his arms, “Rock music ain’t about polite, boy, it’s about shredding your fucking soul for the world to hear. And in my store, I got a rule, if you don’t have the balls to play, then get the fuck out.”​