Misc. Erotica Rockstar Harem

“Amanda, Dillon, you have to see this!” Momo called, running up with her phone out, “I went to go make a post and link to the video Heather and Jen uploaded last night. I figured I could help drive some traffic to it but look at how much it’s blown up already!”

We hunched over and peered at the numbers, and I had to do a double-take. There were over 900,000 likes on the post and thousands of comments.

“What the fuck?” Dillon said and pulled out the new phone Nancy bought for him. We could all see the screen full of notifications about likes and people following him, “Jesus, I have a hundred thousand followers… what the fuck?!”

“Dude…” Momo said and showed us a YouTube clip of the video that someone had uploaded that already had over a million views, “They’re already pirating your music… this is insane.”

“That’s not right!” I said, feeling offended.

“No, it’s good,” Momo said, making her post to insta, a cute photo of her and I in the maid's outfits and commenting that she was in a new band and to go check it out on the front man’s feed. “This is going to help it go viral and get the word out. Once people start to hear your music Dillon, it's going to spread like wildfire.”

“It’s started then,” Dillon said with a nervous and excited smile as he looked at us, “Just promise me one thing, that no matter what happens, we won’t forget how much fun we had just playing in my barn.”

“Don’t worry about that,” I said, drawing him into a warm embrace along with Momo, “I could never forget how magical it’s been.”

Time was pressing, so we hurried across town once the car was loaded. One positive outcome of worrying about my daughter and Dillon’s friendship or budding relationship, it left no room to worry about my stage fright and the upcoming recording session. I pulled into the back parking lot of the mall and found Nancy’s car and parked near it. Dillon carried Momo’s heavy drums and his guitar while she helped me with the keyboard.

Matt was there to open the door for us. The tall awkward man with his long greasy ponytail was all excitement and enthusiasm to get Dillon set up. When he learned Momo and I would be playing with the young man, he got an even more exciting look on his face.

“Dude, you’ve got a sexy MILF and a wicked cute Japanese princess in your band… every dude in the world is going to be envious of you!”

“Be respectful,” Dillon said with a slight frown, and I was surprised at how much that small act affected the older man.

“Of course! My apologies, ma’am, and young miss. You’ll have to forgive me. I don’t get to speak with beautiful women too often. Not unless they’re sitting around the Dungeons and Dragons table at least. A crazy amount of beautiful young women are getting into tabletop games, isn’t the world a strange place, why I remember when I was young…”

The man talked nonstop as he led us through the back of the mall and up to his studio. What had at first seemed like rudeness or a lack of social skills, turned out to be anxiety and nervousness on the part of Matt. I saw why, the moment we entered the studio.

The man opened the door and paused, eyes widening and a silly grin forming on his lips at whatever it was he saw within. With a start at realizing we were standing behind him waiting to enter as well as if he’d forgotten we were there, he finally stepped in.

“The bands here,” Matt announced, and I heard Nancy and several others exclaim in enthusiasm, but his eyes were locked on one person, in particular, my daughter.

The studio is a rather ample space for musicians and singers, with a separate closet, set aside for singers to record apart from the musicians. There is also a small engineering room with a large panel covered in nobs, switches, and dials. In the engineering room are a couple of couches and comfortable chairs that looked to have been picked up from a thrift store. Sitting on the armrest of one such couch and capturing the attention of not only Matt but Dillon as well when he stepped in, was Heather.

Where Matt couldn’t look away from the girl, Dillon blushed a furious shade of red. He looked down, oddly unable to meet the girl's eyes or stare directly at her as if she were the sun itself. Heather noticed Dillon avoiding her eyes and refusing to look at her incredible body.

Even I found it hard to look away. Heather and Jen had obviously taken special care in dressing for the afternoon. Both wore tiny white sorority shirts with the Greek letters on the front. The shirts low cut and stopped just beneath the girl's breasts, showing off a vast expanse of pale cleavage and smooth stomachs. Below the minuscule sorority shirts were tiny jean shorts, closer to daisy-dukes than actual shorts, and white tennis shoes.

The pair of them looked like sisters with their hair teased up in the same style. Jen’s hair was a paler blonde, she was a few inches shorter and smaller in the bust. The girl was gorgeous and would have dried the mouths of any man who happened to glance at her, but beside Heather, she was a pale reflection of my daughter's glorious beauty.

The two co-eds were stunning and even more so in their matching outfits, but Nancy and Morgan were both dressed to the nines as well. Morgan was wearing a grey pinstripe skirt suit with the skirt ending at mid-thigh, showing off her long slender legs to perfection. Nancy wore a cream color suit as well, but it was all soft cashmere and linen that clung to her every slender curve.

“Dillon, have you seen how good the posts are doing?” Jen asked when we’d entered the room.

“It’s insane!” Momo said, “You both look amazing! I wish I’d had my socials outfit with me too!”

“Amanda,” Morgan said, stepping over to me with her iPad. “We’re already getting requests for media events such as local radio shows and some smaller music podcasts. Do you think you and Nancy can work on fielding these? Sort through them and see which is a good opportunity or not, you’d both know the local media markets better than I would.”

“I can do that,” Nancy said, “In fact, my husband donated whatever it’s called… you know the things that boost radio towers signals… anyway, he donated one of them to the station, and they owe me a favor.”

“Perfect,” Morgan said with a grateful smile, then she turned to Dillon, who was helping Matt move the equipment into the studio and set it up. “Dillon, I spoke with Adeline Atkinson this morning, and she wanted to tell you to break a leg today, that she and the whole team at Global Music Group are rooting for you all.”

“Tell her thanks,” Dillon said with a warm smile, “I really appreciate it. You’ve all been so lovely to me. I really can’t say how much I appreciate everything.”

“Well,” Morgan said, with a faint blush in her cheeks, “Just play your heart out in there, and we’ll make sure the world hears every beat.”

“Don’t I have to sign something?” Dillon asked, “I haven’t signed a contract with you guys, yet-.”

“That has all been arranged,” Nancy said quickly, cutting him off, glancing at Matt with a small frown, the man held up his hands quickly and made a motion with two fingers before his lips as if he were zipping them shut. Nancy gave him a firm nod and went on, “This will stay between us, but Adeline and Morgan understand that an artist can become attached to their art. So, they have agreed to a special deal that I proposed.”

“One we’ve never agreed to with any other artist, you understand,” Morgan said, stressing the words. “Intellectual Property and licensing of songs are how GMG makes the bulk of its profits, but we’re entering a new age of media.”

“Exactly,” Nancy said, nodding, “That’s why I proposed this new deal. You, and your band members, will hold the exclusive rights to the masters of all of your songs. That means you can set the prices for licensing or the sales of your albums of EP’s.”

“What's in it for GMG?” Dillon asked with a small frown.

“Good question,” Morgan said with an excited grin. “Under the terms Nancy negotiated with Adeline, GMG will retain a small % of every song sold through our sales and marketing team, but more importantly, we retain exclusive rights to any video/audio recordings of your live performances.”

“I don’t get it,” Momo said, crossing her arms, “aren’t you throwing away, like all the money?”

“No,” Heather said, cutting in and shaking her head, from the sly smile on her lips, she saw the whole better than any of us but Nancy and Morgan, “They aren’t trying to be a recording label with Dillon… they’re trying to be a full-on media company. You’re going to sell concert footage… studio footage… are you going to make it a TV show or something?”

“A new channel!” Morgan said her grin infection, “We aren’t sure yet where we’ll stream it, but we already have offers, and they haven’t even seen the content, just the business model. Nancy, it was your idea, want to explain it?”

“Sure,” Nancy had a familiar self-satisfied air about her as all attention fell on the beautiful brunette. I suppressed a grin as my friend preened, knowing how much she was relishing the moment. “Streaming services are hungry for content, and the audience is always craving both something new and something old, so let's give it to them. MTV used to be all music videos, but over time it shifted to more programmed content. Why? Because videos are good, but people crave more. That raw backstage footage you rarely get, or the sound and feel of the crowd. With new technologies today like VR and immersive 3D, we can give people a simulated concert experience. Even groups of friends can enter the space together.”

“So that’s the idea,” Morgan said, “There are still details to be worked out, but we think it could be a winning model going forward in this new media space. GMG would produce and record your concerts, eventually offering a live experience to fans around the world. Imagine living in Brazil and seeing a concert in Tokyo. Or streaming a whole concert live on Netflix… This is going to be the future, and we’re perfectly positioned to capitalize on it.”

“It’s brilliant,” Heather said, nodding, arms crossed beneath her massive firm breasts, “Dill, it’s a good deal.”

I didn’t fail to notice that her concern was for Dillon, even though I would be part of the deal as well. The young man regarded Heather for a long moment, considering her words, or perhaps his eyes were just tracing the lines of her face. Finally, he broke the content and turned to me, his frown questioning, and I shrugged.

“It’s up to you, but I trust Morgan and Nancy with my life,” turning to the small Asian girl, I raised an eyebrow.

“I don’t care,” Momo said with a shake of her head, “I just want to jam.”

“Same,” Dillon said, nodding, “Nancy, you’re the agent. Doesn’t make any sense to second guess you when I honestly have no idea what you’re even talking about. If you say it’s a good deal, then I’ll sign it.”

“It is,” She said, nodding, and I saw the tightness around her eyes and set of her shoulders and knew she felt the weight of the decision.

“Fuck man,” Matt said from where he stood with his back to the wall, “this is some crazy shit. You’re about to go off, man… can’t you feel it? It’s like fucking groovy, man.”

“Ready?” Dillon asked Momo and me.

The girl nodded eagerly, but I felt my stomach do a massive flip flop, and I nearly ran back out the door, to my car. Instead, I followed the two into the small recording studio. Dillon turned when we were all in, closing the door and cutting off all sound but our breathing. Mine was coming sharp and fast, and Dillon looked down at me in concern.

Those pale blue eyes filled my vision, and I felt my heartbeat slow, and my shoulders relax. He pulled me into a firm embrace, and I reached out, drawing tiny Momo into the hug. The warmth I felt from the two filled me with comfort and pushed back my anxiety and nerves. Drawing in one final breath, inhaling the musky aroma of Dillon, I felt a thrill shoot down to my sex, and it was with heat in my cheeks that I sat on the stool behind my keyboard.

Flexing my fingers, I flicked on the power and looked up to find Dillon and Momo in the same places they’d stood in the barn. The familiar sight further relaxed me, and it was with an eager grin, we launched into our first song. Dillon’s guitar sounded perfect in the recording studio. Once Momo’s drums kicked in, I was utterly lost in the music. My fingers dancing along the keys as if the spirit of the song itself guided them, the notes falling into place perfectly.

“Life… a dull and yellow dream;”

“Until the light showed up for me when she came to hear me sing;”

“Heavens knows I’m lost at sea;”

“Hunting for love in my new golden dream.”

The music just flowed out of us, and without a break, Dillon launched us right into the second song. We played for twenty solid minutes, jamming out seven songs without a single error, and it felt like I was swimming through the seas of heaven.

It would be impossible for me to describe the sheer artistic joy that permeated that studio space. It was a tangible thing to the three of us in there, something magical that we could no more ignore than we could the floor beneath our feet. After, Nancy and Morgan both commented that it had felt special, but neither had felt what Dillon, Momo, and I did. Heather felt it, I was sure. For when we stepped out of the recording booth to take a break after that first half-hour, I caught a flash of intense jealousy on her face when she looked at Momo, but it faded in an instant, replaced by the same awe the three of us felt. My daughter came over and folded me in her arms, hugging me close and whispering in my ear.

“Momma, I never knew you were so good… I’m so sorry… That was amazing, I love you so much, and I’m so proud of you!”

Her words brought tears to my eyes, and soon I was sobbing into her shoulder, and behind me, I could hear Momo crying into someone else's. The floodgates were opened, and emotions poured forth from us. It was the opposite reaction from what I’d expected. Something about the magical musical experience we’d both had, unlocked powerful emotions within us that came flooding out.

Ten minutes later, I was sitting on the couch with Heather sipping a small paper cup of cold water as she stroked my hair and held my hand. Finally, back to myself, I was ready to head back into the studio with Momo and an enthusiastic Dillon. The next session lasted 45 minutes before Momo and I were overcome with emotions and had to take a break to laugh, cry, and hold one another.

This process played itself out all afternoon and into the late evening as we recorded song after song. Dillon made up songs on the spot, coaching Momo and me throughout parts. The girl required very little instruction, her talent, and education, making it easier for her to join in with him, but over time I grew efficacious at it as well. The band was really coming together in that studio. As Momo and I became used to being the conduit to such breathtaking sounds, our jam sessions lasted longer and longer.

Our audience never grew tired of listening to us play, much to my surprise. Morgan, Heather, Nancy, and Jen had forced Matt out after that first thirty-minute session. Saying he’d stayed longer than the agreed-upon time and had gotten more than he asked for. Morgan sat at the mixing table, adjusting pitch and controls. At the same time, Jen made sure everything recorded properly. Nancy and Heather spent long hours in conversation when they weren’t spellbound by the music we were creating.

By the time we finished for the evening, I was exhausted. So tired that I didn’t want to drive myself home and had Heather take the wheel. The girl and her friend were in a frenzy, although they tried to hide it from me. Both had been unable to meet Dillon’s eyes after hearing hours of him playing, and there were noticeable wet spots at the crotches of their short shorts that Nancy and I pretended not to see.

We practically flew home, Heather driving a touch faster than I was comfortable with. When we got home, she and Jen threw themselves in her room, locking Momo out, and from the whimpers of pleasure, both were engaged in something wicked together. Dillon's music started up, and Momo and I could no longer hear the bed hinges squeaking.

The slender Japanese girl crawled into bed with me, and we held one another, too tired to even attempt to assuage our own lust. Our smiles of bliss couldn’t match the joy and love in our hearts. I thought playing in that studio would be the most fabulous time of my life, but I had yet to experience the wonder and terror of a live performance. In four days, I would get to discover just how great or terrible we were.​