Misc. Erotica Rockstar Harem

Dillon got a lighter from one of the roadies and popped back in and handed it to Momo. He didn’t partake of the cannabis, but Momo joined me. For a moment, I feared security might give us a hard time then I realized where we were. No one at an outdoor music festival would give two figs for a little pot smoke.

I only took two tiny drags of the small joint, but that had my head feeling fuzzy, and a silly grin found its way onto my lips. Momo and I were giggling to one another about nothing when the stage manager came and told us we had one minute before we had to go up.

“This is it,” Dillon said, a proud smile etched across his face, “before we go out there I just want to say how much I love you both and that no matter what happens, I wouldn’t want anyone else up there with me.”

“I never dreamed I’d be anywhere like this,” I said, reaching up and cupping his cheek with one hand, “It’s all thanks to you and your incredible talent.”

“Let’s go rock their fucking socks off!” Momo said with a fierce smile.

Dillon gathered us in his strong arms, hugging us both close and kissing our hair. The stage fright, which was creeping back in, disappeared in a puff when I felt his body pressed against mine. When he stepped away, I found my fingers trailing down his side and cupping his ass before he skipped up the stairs, flashing me a quick smile.

“Give him a moment alone,” Momo said, “let the crowd focus on him…” the crowd clapped politely, and I heard Dillon take the microphone introducing himself and the band. “Now.”

Momo and I strode out, and I felt a rush of adrenaline when thousands and thousands of eyes fixed on us. There were a few chuckles and some wolf-whistles at our tiny and tight costumes, but for the most part, people had their interest perked by the odd band taking the stage.

“I know we weren’t quite what you were expecting,” Dillon said as he slung his electric guitar over one shoulder and took up his pick, “but lend us your ears, and we will do our best to entertain you.”

“Just play already!” Came a rude shout from deep in the crowd, to an agreeable muttering from the rest of the crowd.

None of it seemed entirely real to me. Whether that was the pot or the shock of seeing so many people looking up at us, everything had a hazy dream-like quality. Fear and anxiety faded when I looked over at Momo. The adorable girl grinned at me and twirled her drumsticks, and we both looked to Dillon, who glanced back and winked.

The young man stood with a confident swagger before the waiting crowds and looked over them with eyes that claimed them all as his. The reaction of the crowd was immediate. They began to shift and mutter, complaining to their friends and those standing nearby about the arrogant young man.

I began to wonder what Dillon was doing and almost opened my mouth to say something. He stood there for long seconds, letting the crowd grow more and more restless. Just when I began to fear we were losing them entirely and got ready to dash off stage when beer bottles or solo cups came flying, Dillon struck the first chords of our signature song.

To either side of the stage stood massive speakers that blasted Dillon’s music to the back of the crowd. I watched those first notes roll through the sea of humanity like a wave. When the sound reached their ears, the reaction was immediate. Mouths fell agape, and except for Dillon’s guitar, as it played the opening notes, silence reigned.

“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 first words out of his mouth broke the spell that had frozen the crowd and shouts of shock and cheers rose here and there. For the most part, people listened with friends and loved ones, holding one another close as the ballad played on.

I’d heard and played the song dozens of times by this point, but its magic hadn’t weakened. The music carried me away as it always did, but I also stayed present, relishing the moment as my fingers danced along with the keys.

As the song came to a close, Dillon’s deep, loud voice fading out, the crowd erupted in applause. I saw several figures jumping in joy on the side of the stage and flashed a brief smile at Nancy and Heather, but then was pulled into the next song, a heavier rock number. Dillon didn’t relish in the applause, instead weaving tempos and energy together to give the crowd a full experience.

He would lead from slow songs into faster and faster rhythms until the crowd was dancing and singing along with a wild frenzy. Then would take them all the way down with a slow ballad, his rich voice making love blossom between concert goers by the hundreds. Another contingent of women, and no few men, had worked their way up to the front of the crowd and pressed against the security fencing, hands stretching forth and expressions enraptured.

Words must have gotten out to the rest of the festival because our large crowd started to balloon during the third song. What little space there was on the edges and back of the large grass field filled up, and people even climbed atop the food trucks and port-a-potties.

Even the back and side stage areas filled with people. I had no idea who any of these people were, but soon Nancy, Mom, Heather, and Morgan were herded off to one corner as more and more suits and sparkly dressed pop stars showed up to watch us perform.

All of this, I noticed in bits and pieces. My own playing took most of my concentration, even when it was effortless and guided by Dillon, I still feared making any mistakes and kept most of my attention on it. I did make a slip up here and there, but I don’t think it was anything anyone noticed, especially with this being the first time we’d played most of these songs.

I couldn’t fail though, not with Dillon leading the way and Momo keeping perfect rhythm. We’d only prepared eleven songs to play, and when we finished the final song, Dillon’s masterpiece, the crowd was all singing along with the hook, arms thrown over their neighbors’ shoulders, friend and stranger alike, all bonded as one.

“We’re The Jams,” Dillon said once the song ended, “You can find us online, thanks for lending us your time and ears!”

The roar of the crowd was like a slap in the back as we hurried off stage. The three of us were on such a massive high from the show that I barely registered the hugs and congratulations of Nancy and Morgan. When Heather folded me in her arms, whispering about how proud she was of us, I started to get emotional, but when Mother looked at me with her proudest smile, I felt the damn break and emotions pour out of me.

“It was as if heaven itself came down and graced us with a show,” Mom said as she stroked my hair.

“I have never been happier to be in the business I am in,” came a strong woman’s voice from behind the crowd, then she was pushing her way through, a tall, beautiful older blonde woman wearing the most expensive designer skirt suit I’d ever seen. “Dillon, you gorgeous young man! That was beautiful music!”

“Adeline!” Morgan said with a shocked grin, “I didn’t know you were leaving LA?!”

“I took our private jet out this morning,” Adeline said, her brown eyes never leaving Dillon’s, “had to make sure our newest investment proved out and boy oh boy did it ever… I’d like a minute alone with you, Dillon. So, I can make sure you know exactly how much Global Music Group is here to… support you.”

“That might have to wait,” Morgan said, hooking a thumb behind her at the crowd who was still screaming and cheering and just beginning to start up a chant of ‘Encore! Encore!’.

Nelson came scurrying up with his clipboard, an excited grin on his face. When the effete little man spotted Dillon, he threw up his hands and squealed like a little girl.

“Oh my god, you brilliant man! And you too ladies, you looked so gorgeous up there, amazing! That was the greatest performance I’ve ever seen, and I’ve seen Bruce in concert like thirty times! You three have to go back out and play one more song. The crowd is going nuts for it.”

“We played all our songs,” Dillon said with a frown, “Should we play one over again?”

“No,” I said, a flash of inspiration struck me, “You should go out there alone and play for them as you played for me that first night. Give them all that gift.”

“Are you sure?” Dillon asked Momo and me.

“Go,” Momo said, “don’t let them mistake who the real talent on that stage was.”

“I love you two,” Dillon said with a grin, pulling us both into a warm embrace.

Standing up straight, he let out a deep breath and squaring his shoulders, strode out onto the stage. The crowd roared in welcome when they spotted him walk out. Momo gripped one hand and Nancy the other with Heather, Mom, Morgan, Adeline, and the rest crowding in close.

In all the craziness after our show and press of bodies around us, I hadn’t noticed just how many other bands and musicians crowded backstage with us. I was shocked to see some famous musicians spread throughout the backstage crowd. From the awe and fascination on their faces, it was clear they were all as affected by the rock god’s music as the crowds.​