Misc. Erotica Rockstar Harem

Heather finished up a large platter of pancakes, half of them a touch darker than I like, but with butter and syrup, I could hardly notice. We sat at the kitchen bar, Heather standing and eating, as I told them everything that had been happening. Well, almost everything, from the sly glances Jen threw my way and the curious frowns I saw on Heather and Momo’s faces, they clearly knew I wasn’t telling them everything. Perhaps my own blushes and breathless joy when talking about Dillon, gave something away.

They were each excited when I told them about the studio time, and the deal Nancy was going to work out with the label. Heather peppered me with questions about the studio and what I thought the timeline with the label would be, while Jen asked about Nancy and Morgan.

Momo slowly opened up throughout the meal, commenting here and there, but she was quiet even then. I felt a small thrill every time she shot a sideways stare at me and found myself flouncing before her just a little when I got more OJ to refill our glasses. Even going so far as to offer her my own shy seductive smile as our eyes locked for a moment. I felt a thrill run down to my core at the girl’s shy glances, similar to how I felt when Dillon looked at me.

“We’re going to head downtown and see what's new at Miyamo’s,” Heather said, talking about a small boutique that offered the best shopping in town, “Do you want to come?”

“No,” I said,” I’m going to clean the house and get some chores done.”

“I’ll help you clean up Mrs. Kowalski,” Momo said with a pretty little smile.

“Ugh,” Jen said, “You’re never any fun, Momo. I swear if you weren’t the Cosplay queen, I’d think you’re the most boring twenty-one-year-old I know.”

“Cosplay?” I asked with a curious frown.

“Don’t get her started,” Heather said with a roll of her eyes at Momo, she flashed a grin to show she was joking, “Momo is probably the biggest influencer at our school. How many followers do you have now?”

“Four million,” she girls said with a shy blush, “but I think half of them are fake accounts.”

“How did you get so many followers?” I asked in shock. Even the biggest rock stars of the eighties and nineties didn’t have nearly as many as this slip of a girl.

“Thirsty boys,” Jen said with a cackling laugh.

Heather pulled out her phone and showed me the girl's account, getting Momo to explain the various outfits and costumes she wore in each photo. I was absolutely fascinated by it. I’d seen people dress up for movies or KISS concerts, things like that, but this was a whole sub-culture that I’d known nothing about. And the photos…

Momo, or Momo-chan, as she’s known online, is a gorgeous slip of a girl. Apparently, this aligned well with a lot of the most famous characters in Japanese cartoons, comic books, and video games. I didn’t know any of the characters she was dressed as, but each looked more amazing and magical than the next.

The girl made her own costumes out of all sorts of materials, even building the guns and weapons she used. I didn’t even notice when Heather and Jen went upstairs to get ready to head out, Momo and I were lost in a conversation about one of her most recent cosplay outfits.

“It sounds so artsy and crafty,” I said, “I’d love to work on a costume sometime.”

“Are you serious?” Momo asked excitedly, “because a woman with your… proportions would be able to play many roles. The boys would go absolutely crazy to see you dressed up in a costume.”

“We’re heading out Mom,” Heather called from the front door, “are you and Momo going to be ok?”

“We’re fine, dear,” I called, “you two have fun. And Heather, can you pick up a couple bottles of wine for tonight while you're out?”

“We will,” she called back before closing and locking the door.

There was an awkward moment where Momo and I looked anywhere but at one another, and then I hopped out of my chair intent on cleaning up after breakfast.

“Heather said you play the piano,” Momo said carefully as if testing something out, “have you ever played the keyboard?”

“A little when I was younger,” I said, smiling, “I mostly just play for the church choir now and for music lessons. Nothing serious.”

“I brought my electric drum kit if you would like to play,” she shifted nervously on the chair before continuing, “I’d like to warm up before playing with that young man later. Would you mind playing with me for a little bit?”

“Not at all,” I said with a grin.

I’d been eager to play all week again but felt self-conscious in the face of Dillon’s exceptional genius. Momo hopped out of her seat and helped me clean up. The tiny girl was unlike most of Heather's other friends in that way. The girl went to Heather's room to shower and get ready for the day as I dusted and vacuumed.

The dozen little chores that need to be done each week to have a well-ordered household have always been calming to me, putting me into a meditative state where I could relax and listen to music on full blast. I did so that morning as well, happy to see Momo singing along with the Nirvana album I had playing on repeat, as she went about her tasks.

I was just finishing up in the living room when Momo came in with a large black case. Setting it down, she began pulling out poles and various round disks. It was the oddest looking drum kit I’d ever seen since there were no drums at all, just electric pads in place of drums.

The girl was very precise about how she set everything up, taking her time in a way that told me she was far from a novice. I hurried back to my bedroom and pulled my keyboard down from the closet shelf.

There was a strange energy working its way through me as I lugged it to the living room and set it up. The young woman and I didn’t say anything to one another, but we kept shooting glances at each other, sizing the other up. Each with the same amount of anxiety as we settled stools in place and stood near the instruments, not quite sure how to start.

“Let’s have a smoke first,” Momo said, “that always helps to settle the nerves and get the creative juices flowing.”

“I don’t smoke cigarettes,” I said with a little frown, about to tell her she shouldn’t either when the girl pulled a small short one-hitter pipe out of her pocket.

I blinked in surprise and then laughed, not sure whether I should be happy or offended. The mom in me wanted to be offended, but the musician in me that hadn’t jammed with anyone in more than over ten years, was grateful to see an old friend.

Slipping into my backyard, we stood huddled in the corner of my patio like a couple of schoolgirls hiding from their parents. Momo gave me a wink and then took a small hit, coughing out a cloud of white smoke. The piney scent made my mouth water, and I felt a touch of anxiety when she handed me the small glass pipe.

“It’s been a long time,” I said, sounding even more unsure than I felt.

“Just take a small one,” the adorable Japanese girl said, “That’s all I do. Just enough to get a head change and shake free the nerves. Let the music flow.”

“Ok,” I said nervously, feeling like an old woman, I sparked the lighter and drew in a slow breath.

The hot smoke made me cough immediately, and Momo was grinning and patting me on the back as we staggered inside. Suddenly the situation seemed hilarious. Here I was, hanging out with a girl I’d just met, a friend of my daughter’s from college, and I was about to jam with her. Then I remembered the night before, and that sent me into an even harder peel of laughter.

“What’s so funny?” Momo asked, struggling to breathe in between laughs.

“Everything,” I said, wiping a tear from my eye, “Thank you, god, it’s been too long since I did that… Don’t let yourself become too old too fast. Trust me, there is a lot of fun you can still have and be responsible.”

“You’re sleeping with him,” Momo said, her eyes widening in sudden realization, “Oh my god, I’m so jealous.”

“Oh honey,” I said with a shake of my head, my head buzzing from the smoke, “We’re all sleeping with him, and for some reason, it’s not weird. Isn’t that weird? In fact, it's just the opposite… we just want to bring him more…”

“Excuse me?” Momo asked, her own eyes now cherry red and a silly grin on her face, “We? What are we talking about?”

“I don’t remember,” I said with a grin, “are you hungry? I’m starving.”

“No, I want to play drums!” Momo punched her fist in the air in a cutesy way, “Drums!”​