Twenty years ago, every word you sang in a recording studio was solid platinum. You paid your dues in the clubs. You played the game. You were artsy, edgy, timely, and your debut album on a major label won you Album of the Year and Artist of the Year. You were on the cover of Rolling Stone twice. Once when you won the Grammy and again when you put out that deeply personal album that the label begged you not to release, but was a critical darling and a financial success, forever cementing your name up there with Paul Simon, Sting, Bob Dylan, and Bono.

Or so you thought.

After a celebrity studded wedding to a supermodel, you were happy. Your muse escaped you. Each album you released after that fell a little more flat than the one before it. The contract fell through. After two children, the marriage soured. No one understood. And people quit trying.

In an effort to keep from losing your house and what is left of your sanity, you talk your agent into booking you a series of shows at small venues in small towns. You thought that getting back out among the fans after a fifteen year absence would revive your artistic side, but for the most part the fans didn't show. Many left while you were performing, and the new material was booed. Until tonight. Tonight, there is a beautiful young girl out in the audience that knows every single word of every single song. She sings along enthusiastically, cheering just like in the old days. You get an idea - a cruel, horrible idea - about how to get your mojo back.

We can discuss my age in private messages. My kinks include age play, non con, reluctant, large cocks, fast and hard sex, clothed/partially clothed, doggy/bent over furniture, D/s, light bondage, cheating (you), and risk of impregnation. Full kink list

I don't have any limits, but I will happily respect yours.

Let's discuss the setup rather than jump right in. Long term or short term.