Misc. Erotica Rockstar Harem

I woke the next morning filled with energy. Usually, I’m eager to get to work, not because I love my job, but I like having something to do and doing it well. This morning my mind was filled with thoughts about how we could help Dillon spread his art to the world.

My workout went quickly, spurred on by Dillon’s music playing through my earbuds. I ignored the stares my hard nipples drew. The images his music conjured up in my brain were turning me on far too much to control them. I got to the office a few minutes early and started opening it up, finding that the old routines that had been so fulfilling were now just empty chores I was eager to finish.

The day was busy and went by quickly. Unfortunately, we didn’t have much time to chat with Kelly as she was stuck in surgery most of the day. Nancy and I each took a half-day off for the next day and would have taken the whole day if the schedule had allowed for it.

I made plans for her to come over for dinner and bring some takeout from a Thai restaurant. She would also be bringing Dillon over so we could prep and plan for our meeting the next day with her friend Morgan. I got home and jumped in the shower, pulled on a loose sundress and cleaned up before they arrived.

It felt strange having Dillon over to my house, the boy was younger than my daughter, but in my mind, he was growing into a titanic figure. Seeing him standing there with his guitar, those burning blue eyes and powerful charisma, it was hard not to put him on the same level as the Rock God’s of my youth. The rockers I’d spent my teenage years fantasizing about had nothing on the raw talent of Dillon, nor that mysterious magical quality woven throughout every note he played or sang.

Queuing up the playlists I’d made the night before, I poured myself a glass of wine and sat down to wait. When they finally arrived, I hopped up, butterflies fluttering in my belly before I pulled open the door and greeted them.

“Welcome,” I said, my vision filled with the sight of Dillon and unable to stop myself, I drew him into a warm hug, sighing when his strong arms circled me, and I tilted my head up to kiss him full on the lips.

“Hmm,” Dillon said with a surprised smile, “welcome indeed.”

“Come in,” I said, blushing red when I realized I’d been kissing a nineteen-year-old boy on my porch for all the neighborhood to see, “Do you want a glass of wine?”

“I’d love one,” Nancy said, wrapping me in a quick one-armed hug, I planted a kiss on her lips and caught a tell-tale whiff of Dillon’s sweet seed and flashed her a quick grin, almost laughing when she blushed at having been caught out.

“I’m sure you would,” I said with a wink, “Let me find a good pairing for… whatever you were just eating.”

Dillon blushed a fiery red and couldn’t suppress the grin that tugged at his lips when he glanced at Nancy. For her part, the beautiful brunette stood; back perfectly straight and a self-satisfied smile working its way onto her mouth. I felt a touch jealous, not that she’s shared an intimate moment with Dillon, but that she’d gotten him all to herself for a little while. I made myself a silent promise to find similar opportunities in the future.

“What’s this?” Dillon asked, cocking his head to listen to the song playing, “I like it… I don’t think I’ve ever heard anything quite like it.”

“Mother,” I said with a grin when they looked at me with curious frowns, “that’s the name of the band. They were amazing live, but kinda disappeared in the middle of the grunge scene.”

“Grunge?” Dillon asked.

“Don’t worry,” Nancy said with a shake of her head, “you’re not missing much. Just a bunch of greasy headed boys in flannel shirts playing garage rock.”

“Sounds pretty cool to me,” Dillon said, bobbing his head to the song, “Are there more like this?”

“I have tons,” I said, pulling out the list I’d made, “Here, I made a playlist last night with songs from six different decades on it. Some of the best musicians and bands I know of. It’s nowhere near complete, but that should give you a reasonable understanding of what’s out there so you can find stuff that you love and influence you.”

“This is really cool,” Dillon said, reading down the list, his expression so genuinely happy that I felt all warm and gooey inside, “Can I listen to it at home?”

“I made a playlist in a music app,” I said, pulling out my phone, “If you download it, I can send it to you, and you can listen to it whenever you want.”

“Ok, you two can nerd out about bands and music later,” Nancy said, pouring herself a glass of wine as I got a beer out of the fridge for Dillon. “Let’s get down to business.”

He was only nineteen, but he wasn’t driving, and it felt strange to not be able to drink around a lover. Pushing the thought aside, I tried not to be aware of our age difference, but it was hard. It hadn’t gone unnoticed to me how well an older woman and younger man’s libidos seemed to sync up, and I was all too aware of how warm I felt and turned on I was getting being near him.

Nancy pulled a notebook out of her purse where she’d written down some notes for her reference. She began it as a formal meeting, stating her goals for calling it and keeping us on topic throughout. This was a side of Nancy I’d never seen before and an odd reversal of our roles at the office.

She was as charming as ever but firm as she guided us through the various topics she wanted to hit. There was no fooling around about this stuff for her, and I realized how much she’d missed working with an artist and planning meetings and deals.

“You and Amanda can work out the music part of it, but she, the record exec, is going to try and put a wedge between us,” she said at one point, her face deadly serious as she pressed the point home to Dillon, “She’ll bring up money, houses, and cars. Things the record company will ‘gift’ you, so long as you agree to specific points of their deal. Don’t let her sway you with them, they like to flash shiny objects in front of young star’s faces to get them to sign away their lives.”

“What do I do?” Dillon asked.

“You don’t have to do anything,” she said with a reassuring smile, “that’s what an agent is for. I’ll handle that part of it, once you let her know I’m your representative in these matters. What I need to know and what we both need to be crystal clear about is what you want out of this.”

“Honestly, I have no idea,” Dillon said, shaking his head, “all I know is, playing in front of that crowd yesterday… it was amazing,” his cheeks blushed faintly as we all remembered what else we’d done that was just as amazing, Nancy and I shooting each other lopsided smiles.

“You want to be financially independent,” Nancy said, ticking things off one by one with her fingers, “You want to pay off the farm. You want to play before crowds. You want to own the masters of your records.”

“Yea,” he said, nodding, “Those sound good.”

“Dillon,” Nancy said with a frown, “we can always renegotiate later if we have to, but the more I know about what it is you need now, the better the deal will be that I can secure for you, assuming we like what Morgan has to say.”

“I understand,” he said, nodding, “It’s just all a bit much. Give me the night to think about it, but honestly, I really don’t need much… if my family's land gets paid off… hell, everything after that is gravy.”

Nancy had a few more things to go over, but the biggest issue that remained was starting a social media campaign before he signed with the label. She stressed how important it was to establish his own authentic brand before the suits at the record label started fitting it into a model they recognized. She told several horror stories of actors and actresses whose careers were ruined by studios that had destroyed the public perceptions of them one way or another.

With a game plan in place for the next day, we moved onto the next major topic, which was studio time. Nancy had arranged with the music store owner to be free that Sunday for a few hours. Dillon had a few songs now that he wanted to try out in the studio, nothing serious. That led to a lengthy discussion of his sound and the type of music he wanted to make. No matter how we sliced it, rock music was what he was into and seemed to fit his style best. However, there was the issue of him being a solo act.

“You could join him in the sound booth,” Nancy said, “You can play the keyboards, right, Amanda?”

“I can,” I said with a laugh, “but I don’t think I could ever go up on stage and play. You should have bandmates around your own age, Dillon, people you can really get along with. You’re going to end up stuck with them practicing and playing for hours and hours a day. So, there’s no rush, let's make sure you find the right people.”

“Does Heather play an instrument?” Dillon asked, an odd tone in his voice, and following his gaze, I saw he was staring at a picture of her and me from a cruise ship we’d taken after her graduation. The two of us stood in bikini tops and skirts, holding up colorful twin cocktails and grinning at the camera.

“She plays the violin,” I said sharing a tight smile with Nancy and stifling a chuckle when she winked at me, “She was quite good as a girl but gave it up in high school. I’m not sure if her style would match with yours, but it’s worth a shot. I know she has a couple friends who are music majors. Perhaps a couple of them might work out.”

“A pair of co-eds and Dillon as the frontman?” Nancy said with excitement, “Now that’s a band that can go on the covers of magazines.”

“I wrote a song about co-eds,” Dillon said, and when I raised an eyebrow at him, he blushed and went on quickly, “It’s not like that. It’s about leaving home and entering a new world… how you imagine making yourself anew, it’s about self-discovery.”

“Play it for us,” I said, my heart starting to beat faster in anticipation, “I’d love to hear it.”

“Let me run to the restroom,” he said with an eager grin, “one sec.”​