Misc. Erotica Rockstar Harem

The rest of the drive, I could see Heather’s mind working over all that I’d said. At several points during the service, she got a far off look on her face, and I knew she was working through some deep issues. Twice, the girl’s cheeks turned a scarlet red, and I knew she had imagined whatever wickedness I’d been up to, or perhaps her own dreams with Dillon.

The service was beautiful, and we spent a good twenty minutes afterward, visiting with friends. My mother would have been there, but she was visiting friends at a retirement community in Florida for a couple weeks. Many came up to say how much they’d missed Heather, with the husbands often far more enthusiastic than their wives.

My gorgeous daughter cut a terrible swath through the young men of our church community and many of the older as well. If I'm honest with myself, I’d have to admit that I draw nearly as many stares each Sunday as she did. Truth was, it was my mother, the matriarch of our clan, and a revered figure in the community who commanded the most devotion and regard. Hers was a timeless beauty that I’d always envied, and Heather reflected.

“Amanda, it’s so good to see you,” the pastor said, as she came up and gave me a warm embrace.

“Pastor Watkins,” I said with a warm smile, “You remember my daughter, Heather?”

“How could I forget,” Elizabeth Watkins said with a warm smile as she shook Heather's hand, “I’m so glad you could join us today, Heather. How did you like the service?”

“It was nice, pastor,” Heather said with a slight nod, “But I had a question, I was wondering if you might help me with something.”

“Of course, dear,” the pastor said, linking her arm in Heather and steering her towards the back of the church, “I’m always willing to offer counsel, what is it?”

“Well,” Heather shot me a sidelong glance, and I felt the bottom drop out of my stomach as I heard her go on, “I was wondering… if two women loved the same man and decided to share him… would that be a major sin?”

“Oh my,” Elizabeth said, pressing a hand to her chest and glancing back at me, she was a pretty woman, and the blush only made her more so, “Well… I can’t say I’ve ever been asked that before… but no, if the man and the women were all in agreement, then it wouldn’t necessarily be a sin… Although I don’t know many communities that would agree with me. Is this a problem at school? You know if you’re being pressured into anything, you can always come to your mother or me.”

“It’s nothing like that,” Heather said, “there’s just… someone special. Tell me, Pastor Watkins, have you ever thought about adding more music into the service?”

“I would love to,” Elizabeth said carefully, avoiding looking my way, “but we haven’t had anyone willing to play in front of the whole congregation in a couple years. Lord knows my voice is not what he would want rising in celebration of him.”

“Mom, couldn’t you and Dillon play at the service?”

“I’ve tried to get her to play,” Elizabeth said, glancing back at me with a sad smile.

“I’m sorry,” I said, shaking my head, already feeling the spike of anxiety at the thought of playing in front of so many people I knew.

“Mom,” Heather said, stepping away from Pastor Watkins and taking my hands in hers, “I know the thought terrifies you, but you need to get over the fear. Don’t you think with Dillon here that you might be able to?”

“I don’t know, honey,” I said, my stomach feeling queasy, but knowing she was right also, “but I’ll trust you… Jesus give me strength.”

“You’re serious!?” Pastor Watkins asked, “Because our 1pm service is the largest and if we could have a couple of songs for the kids… I just know it would make life a hundred times easier on their parents, not to mention lighten all of our hearts.”

“Oh, you have no idea,” Heather said. I saw gears turning in my daughter's head as she glanced over her shoulder at the pretty pastor, “Is it ok if I take a video of the service, Pastor? For social media?”

“Of course!” The woman said, her enthusiasm evident, “I can’t say there is a large following for rural church services, but how could it hurt? Oh, I’m so excited! I’ll get my girls to help bring the instruments out!”

Heather got on her phone and had everything arranged in moments. Everything felt like it was going too fast to me, like a whirlwind was happening around me as instruments were brought out, and the church rearranged slightly. Dillon, Momo, Jen, Nancy, and even Morgan, our A&R person, was there just as the practitioners began to arrive.

The sight of Heather in her pale blue dress was enough to set the congregation abuzz with the new face, but add Morgan, Jen, and Momo to the mix, it was a quiet and nervous group that shuffled into their pews. Eyes cut to the side as Elizabeth began her sermon, widening as they took in the group of ridiculously gorgeous women gathered around Dillon.

Elizabeth began her sermon on love, just as she had in the morning, but veered off it slightly to highlight the importance of supportive love. She preached that love and support were at its core, an act of faith, the faith we all put in one another to share in everyday experiences. As she spoke, I looked around the pews and took in the faces of my fellow townsfolk.

I felt a pang of loss as I looked around and searching for the origins of the feeling, discovered that I no longer felt at home here. My tethers had been cut. Now unmoored from the cookie-cutter life I’d lived the past twenty-odd years, I was staring ahead at a precipice that led out over a mysterious and terrifying future. But one I knew would have Dillon, Nancy, Momo, and the rest at my side.

That thought lent me comfort, and when Elizabeth glanced over, tension around her eyes as she looked to see how I was doing, I nodded back with a nervous smile. Three other times she’d goaded me out onto the stage, and each time I’d frozen with fright, unable to play. Having a chorus in front of me was the only way I’d been able to do it in the past. Now I sat just on the edge of the stage for all to see.

The flutterings of panic awoke in my breast when Elizabeth introduced us. My vision was narrowing, and the air sounded loud as it rushed in through my nose, then Dillon reached out and took my hand in his, and all grew quiet and still. His pale blue eyes held mine, and his smile grew, making a mirror of my own lips. Momo took my other hand, and all three of us shared a smile and a silent prayer, then Dillon was standing and drawing his guitar over one shoulder.

He was speaking, but the words didn’t register clearly, nor did I pay much attention to the parishioners as they leafed through their hymnals to the song. Flexing my fingers, a single voice whispering encouragement made it to my ears. I felt heartened, then Dillon’s fingers plucked the first note, and I was witness to two hundred faces shift from polite regard to surprise, and then awe.

Heather’s words still echoed in my mind: ‘I love you, mom! You’ll do great!’ and in truth, it was them more than anything else, that pushed back the stage fright and let me find the rhythm and music.

Dillon’s playing was as magical as ever, but his voice lifted in song, reached to the heavens themselves and shook the rafters. He started slow, building as the tempo rose. Before he was halfway through, the entire audience was on their feet, singing along and swaying in time with the music, hand raised aloft. Though dozens sang, Dillon's deep voice rang out clear and true over them all, without the aid of a microphone.

I was lost in the song as well and almost didn’t notice Heather as she moved around one side of the room, filming us with her phone and Jen on the other getting shots of the crowd. As the song came to a finish, I noticed, even Elizabeth was on her feet dancing and singing along, something I’d rarely ever seen from the customarily reserved woman. Dillon played the final notes, Momo’s gentle cymbals fading into the background as everyone caught their breath and settled back in their seats.

“Well… now that was… Praise be, that was just marvelous!” Pastor Watkin’s said as she stepped back up to the podium and its microphone. “Amanda, Dillon, Momo, let me say on behalf of the entire congregation how grateful we are for that performance. And it better not take another ten years before we get you up here, Amanda!”

“It won't!” I laughed and then ducked behind Dillon, blushing a fiery red as everyone laughed, and all eyes fell on us.

I could feel every pair of eyes shift to Dillon, and as Elizabeth finished her sermon, very few paid attention to her words. I happened to be paying attention and noticed the woman make several indecent slips of the tongue that went unnoticed. Her mind was obviously in the gutter, and from the blushed and intense looks she cast our way, it was clear what was on her mind. In fact, it was clear it was on the minds of several others in the hall, but surprisingly not all.

It was Nancy who pointed it out first, in a quiet whisper, but then I noticed it as well. The entire congregation was listening with rapt attention. Most looked spellbound by the music, with expressions of awe and joy, while a few had a much more powerful reaction. All around the room, perhaps a dozen women stared at Dillon with a passion and desire I knew all too well. Some were older, while many were younger, and nearly all of them, with a few notable exceptions, were single.

Dillon’s music seemed to have the most effect on those women who were most open and eager. As the song wore on, and it wasn’t even one of his own magical compositions, his hooks sank deeper and deeper into the women who’d come under his spell. With surprise, I saw that Elizabeth Watkins was one of the most affected.

Thankfully for her, all eyes were on Dillon, Momo and me playing and none but Nancy and I noticed to woman’s hands bunched in her skirt and pressed between her thighs. Nor the large hard nipples pressing against her soft white sweater. The woman was beautiful, in a severe mid-western farm-wife kind of way. Her blonde hair was thin and straight, her features long, but her mouth was wide and sensual, her lips thick and deep red.

As I was staring at her, Elizabeth happened to look over at me and our eyes locked. She saw that I’d read her expression and knew what secret thoughts swirled around in her head. The woman reacted in the opposite manner as I’d assumed she would. Instead of blushing and looking down in shame, she sat up, back straight and large breasts standing out, proud. As I tapped out the final notes of the song, Elizabeth stared at me, and I saw her flourish under the attention.

She was the opposite of myself, or perhaps being seen was part of her fetish. Either way, I was in awe of the pastor and had even more respect for her as she stood and offered a polite clap, the rest of the congregation leaping to their feet and cheering.

“God's grace!” Cried one man.

“A miracle!” Cried another.

“Dillon, I love you!” Yelled a woman.

The last shout came from the back of the crowd of well-dressed folks and drew a laugh. A laugh with an edge of fragility to it, as husbands glanced around at daughters and wives with a hint of fear. Even those who hadn’t been affected the most by the power of Dillon’s music were aware of its efficacy towards women on some level.

“Well, that was… that was truly remarkable, young man,” Elizabeth said as she stepped back up to the podium. “I, for one, feel blessed to have been witness,” her eyes cut to me for a split second, “and to be witnessed.” It was so fast I don’t think anyone noticed it. I felt a flush to my skin and read the woman’s meaning, my sex dripping at the possibilities it opened up, “Let that the grace was given to us and carry it throughout day and week and seek to aid those we come in contact with… amen.”​