The Cure to Male Loneliness

Los Angeles.

I hadn't been here in four years. I was already half-out of the city when COVID hit, and I didn't figure I would ever return, except maybe as a tourist. But an opportunity to get back into Hollywood came up, and I took it.

Luckily, I had one good friend left there, and we had a lot to talk about. Of all of us in our friend group, David had managed to stay in the city, and did it by turning from mainstream directing dreams to working in porn.

Porn didn't bring me back. I had gotten work in the Pacific Northwest, doing research and writing for various music podcasts and documentaries. A law firm specializing in fact-checking biopics reached out for some music projects a major studio was handling. It wasn't the scriptwriting I set out for, but the lawyer hiring me said "You're the third guy in five years we've hired. They all get hired away to write eventually."

The money was good and it was a fresh start. Normally, that would be something to humbly boast about. But I was going to meet David up at his porn studio. It was not a competition as to who was doing better.

Luckily he seemed more interested in seeing me return.

"I don't recall the Prodigal Son returning to find his family had started a porn studio, or a brothel, I guess," I said.

"Ha!" came a female laugh.

I turned and looked at Gwen Morgan, David's girlfriend, business partner, and porn star. It's one thing to meet a new girlfriend, it's quite another when you're familiar with her being on the front page of Pornhub. It's surreal, made more so by how normal you realize she is.

"If we knew sooner you were coming home, we could have arranged for you to meet your favorite porn star, perhaps," Gwen said.

"I feel like it's a trap if I don't say it's you, and a trap if I do," I said to her.

"Now I am offended that you don't count me. My dick's been in a dozen POV scenes," David joked.

It really did become, if not normal, a heightened version of it. David and I were in a sketch group, and his talking about scenes in porn felt just like talking about the comedy sketches in the past.

We were soon joined by our other two friends who happened to also be back in Los Angeles.

Jimmy Seidel had left before COVID, driven by the contentious politics of the late 2010s. He used his video production skills to create political messaging. Washington, D. C. had done its number on him, and he was burnt out on all that.

"I am glad to be back," he said, "Everywhere has its bullshit, but I'll take Los Angeles bullshit over DC any day."

Aaron Doyle had moved back a week ago, but it was the first time he'd had a chance to come meet. He'd left to take a safe office job in his hometown amid the slowdown, but after getting replaced by AI, he decided to jump back.

"Look, if no job's safe, I want good weather," Aaron said, "I can tell you, even our homeless are more fashionable."

"Luckily porn has always proven adaptable to the changes, and Hollywood apes their innovations without crediting them," David said.

David and Gwen shared a cryptic smile. I felt there was more to this meeting, but couldn't place it.

#

It was at dinner that evening that the truth bomb was dropped.

We had been talking about the old days -- The sketches, the haphazard guerilla filmmaking to avoid costly permits, the post production meetings in a too-small and too-expensive apartment, cursing ourselves over drinks after about lack of pre-production. And the joys of publishing the video and seeing the responses.

"We could never do that shit now," Jimmy said, "YouTube's gone corporate. They'd demonetize so many of our sketches."

"Yeah, especially Bro-rgy Code," Aaron said.

"Speaking of that, we actually have a fan of that series of sketches," David said.

"Who?" I asked.

"Sahara Romani," David said.

I didn't know who that was, but I could tell my Aaron's eyes he knew. Jimmy pulled out his phone to do a search.

"Oh, I've seen some thumbnails on tube sites, but haven't clicked them," he said.

"If it's not animated titties and tentacles, he wants nothing to do with it," I joked.

I did a search while the conversation continued.

"She's still new to the industry, but one of the hottest people, looks and interest wise," David said, "All the studios want her, but she's known for being particularly selective."

"Is she a size queen? Sucks to be average, dude," Aaron said.

"No, story wise" Gwen said, "We had a meeting with her to feel out potential work. She doesn't want to do lazy pizza guy, pool cleaner, or stuck-in-the-dryer step-fucking. She wants to do real art."

"If she considers Br-orgy Code real art, how elite could her tastes be?" Jimmy asked.

"She's thorough when evaluating potential partners," David said, "She had a lot to say about all the sketches we did, but she honed in on that series in particular."

"It was our most porn-like," I said, "It's not exactly insightful magic,"

"It wasn't the fact that we were fake-fucking Leslie," David said, "It was the conversations our characters had while doing it, trying to awkwardly figure out the rules of a gangbang."

"She watches porn for the dialogue?" I asked.

Gwen cleared her throat.

"You should know the type of work we do," she said.

"True, but you're the exception," I said.

"And what makes you think the actress we're pursuing isn't?" Gwen said.

I was justly called out there. You like to think you're not one of the toxic ones, but here I was, justly accused.

"I concede my error," I said.

"She said what interested her was the playful way we joked among ourselves while simulating a gangbang, how we explored the awkwardness of straight men in a situation like that," David said.

"I wonder what she would have thought if we ever managed to shoot the Curb Your Orgasm Larry David parody," Jimmy asked.

"I sent her that script, she loved it," David said.

"Oh," Jimmy said, "So, maybe we'll shoot a funny sketch with her?"

"I don't know," Aaron said, "It's one thing when it's a forgotten sketch in your 20s. The Internet could easily forget that."

"We're not filming anything," David said.

I felt a bit of relief. I had to admit I was a bit nervous David was trying to bring back the sketch show. I loved it nostalgically, but at our age it wouldn't hit the same.

"She wants to host an orgy as a test for a porn adaptation of the idea," David said.

Jimmy, Aaron, and I looked at each other. We then looked at Gwen.

"I really want Sahara, so if David fucking her in a bro-rgy is what gets her, I am for it," Gwen said, "It's all on you and your women."

We are all single (Aaron was divorced after a disastrous elopement with a high school ex in the post-COVID haze).

"So, nothing is holding you back but yourselves," Gwen said.

"Is there a minimum number she needs for this to work for you?" Jimmy asked.

"It's an all or nothing situation," David said.

"Can we watch the sketches again?" Aaron offered.

We watched, and waves of nostalgia came back.

The sketches finished. Jimmy stood up.

"Look, I can't say we all owe David this, but while I can chide my old self over some stupid decisions, he would chide me if I didn't take a chance at this," Jimmy said.

Aaron stood.

"You know... it's not as dumb as eloping because you're afraid of dying alone," Aaron said.

It was all on me,

"Porn has a bunch of narrative conveniences. And we all happen to be back here at the same time," I said, "But, I can be like 'I didn't think this would happen to me', or I could just accept it. Maybe we accidentally manifested it. But the weakest move would be to turn down the call to adventure. I am in."

Thus it was settled. The next thing to do was to meet Sahara.

#

Sahara Romani was a buxom Middle Eastern woman in her late 20s. She had dark hair, large eyes, huge tits, big ass, sizable nose that complemented her face. Her makeup was always impeccable -- eyeliner like an ancient Egyptian drawing, contoured makeup, and always the right shade of lipstick for the look she wanted.

We met her in her apartment in Silver Lake. It probably wasn't a large apartment, but she had fantastic taste with decorating With mirrors, fold-out dividers, beaded curtains, expert use of sunlight and lamps, a mazelike use of furniture, and the ever present thin wisps of smoke from burning incense gave it a feeling of being much bigger. Every doorway felt like a corridor to another mystery.

I stood by a bookshelf, looking over a collection of well-worn books on spirituality, art, and philosophy. A biography of David Bowie appeared next to the main arm chair, probably the current read. I found a pile of Grant Morrison comic books with a notebook next to it. I saw all four of our names written down, but before I could examine it, Sahara entered the room with tea and treats.

"Gentleman," she said, in an accent that I couldn't place.

She placed the tea and treats on a low coffee table. We all sat on pillows around it.

"I'm glad you all came. I've been dreaming about this for a while," she said.

"How long?" Aaron asked casually, before taking a bite of a snack.

"I've been seeking something like this for a while. I've had a fantasy about being in the middle of a group of male friends, guys who were in need of getting back together and rebuilding their lost bonds," she said, "And then I saw your sketches."

"I'm glad we happened to be back together at the right time," Aaron said.

Sahara gave an enigmatic smile.

"You set this up," I said.

"Huh?" Jimmy asked, "How?"

Sahara sipped her tea, neither confirming, nor denying.

"I saw those Grant Morrison books, The Invisibles. His magic hypersigil narrative. When his main character was sick in the book, he got sick in real life. When he started writing his avatar a girlfriend, he got one that looked just like her," I said.

"You're a well-read man," she said.

"What? Some hocus-pocus comic book?" Aaron said.

"We're all here, aren't we?" I asked.

"That's a coincidence," Aaron said.

Jimmy stood, spooked.

"This is.. weird," he said.

"And meeting up for a gangbang is so blasé," I said.

"I like to think I got the job that brought me back here on my own," Jimmy said.

"Do you not think you deserve it?" Sahara asked.

"I do! I just thought I got it on my own," Jimmy said.

"You believe this?" Aaron said.

"I mean, the industry is in recession. How did all three of us get good jobs back in Hollywood?" Jimmy asked.

He looked at me.

"You seem to know," Jimmy asked.

"I can guess," I said.

I looked at Sahara. She nodded for me to go on.

"You didn't need to know the type of jobs we'd need, we just needed to find some. You did some sigil magic. You needed us all here, that was easy enough," I said, "And my guess is you took a clue from Grant Morrison and used sex magic to charge it, since what you wanted was all of us here, for tonight."

"It was a fair trade," she said.

"What sort of sex magic?" Aaron asked.

"Masturbation," I said, "Focused on the goal and charged the sigil. Like Grant Morrison instructed fans when the comic faced cancellation."

"Not hard to do when there is a video of you all, play acting out an orgy," she said.

"You masturbated us into employment that brought us all back here?" Aaron said skeptically

"Successfully masturbated you all back here," Sahara said.

"To what end?" Jimmy said, "Not to be superstitious here."

"Because, the world is insufficiently horny. Gen-Z is having less sex, and Millennials had less sex than their parents. The music isn't as good, the movies are remakes, and the tech is turning to surveillance," Sahara said, "That's not the sign of a properly sexed society.'

"And having us gangbang you will solve it?" Jimmy asked.

"Sex inspired your sketches, and it will inspire others," she said, "But a hypersigil needs to be created and recreated. Male loneliness is lame. Men used to get together, form a band to get laid, and make a fuck ton of good music while they did it."

"I don't know," Jimmy said.

"Dude, you're fucking a porn star, are you really worried about the state of your soul?" Aaron said.

"I just don't want to birth the anti-Christ or something," Jimmy said.

"You won't birth the anti-Christ. I have no interest in doing pregnant porn at this time," Sahara said.

"Is that good enough for you?" I asked, annoyed.

"Okay," Jimmy said.

Paranoia aside, the pornography could begin.

#

It started with music. She began a playlist of Romani music, an intoxicating mix of many folk styles blended into one. She then went around, (danced around really), the room, lighting more incense. I don't know if the incense was laced with something to make us feel high, but I felt buzzed breathing it in.

"Over here, in a circle," she said.

We moved our cushions into a circle away from the coffee table. She bent down in the middle, head down, waiting...

When the next song started she stood and began to dance for us. She was dressed in a colorful skirt, and a loose white blouse. She wore a green scarf around her neck that covered beaded necklaces interlaced with charms. Her hair was tied with a red ribbon.

She started with playing with her scarf, untying the loose knot and taking it off. She used it as a streamer as she danced. She used the streamer to catch our attention, and distract us as well. She'd come tantalizingly close to one of us, and in a smooth move whip of the scarf, obscuring our vision, and by the time it was down she was on to another one of us, as if to remind us all this was fleeting, and none of us would truly possess her. But in the act she made us want her all the more.

She then would start on each of us, straddling us on the cushion, pushing us so that we had to put our hands back to steady ourselves, and thus be unable to touch her. She controlled the interaction.

She would then whip the scarf behind our necks and pull us into her chest. Her loose blouse allowed amble cleavage and we were pulled deep into the scent of her jasmine perfume. It was so strong it could make you almost not feel her hands, which went to our laps and undid our belts, buttons and zippers.

She threw the scarf aside as a new song came on, and she began dancing with speed. She shimmied and shook her breasts while turning around in a circle, passing us all in turn. She crossed her arms and grabbed the bottom of her blouse, teasingly pulling it up, showing a lot of underboob, but staying tantalizingly close to showing nipples. We all leaned in, hoping for a peek.

But it would not be just a tease. When she was ready to show us the blouse went off in one smooth movement. It was like a magician whisking away to reveal the outcome of the trick.

She didn't wait for us to get a look at her bare breasts. She kept dancing as if the exposure of her breasts was the most common thing in the world. If we were struck dumb by the reveal of her large, gorgeous tits, she wasn't going to slow down for us to take them in. Her art was more important than us observers. We had to catch up.

The song changed again, and so did she. The song was slower, and she began by walking around the circle of us, giving us a better look at her breasts. She made a second circuit, this time running a hand along each of our legs. I felt my already hard cock get harder and peeked out of my open zipper. Judging by the way the rest of the others shifted in their seats, they were as freshly aroused as me.

She stopped in front of David and whispered something in his ear. He smiled and nodded. She got down on her knees. She took his cock out his boxers and stuck it between her tits. She began moving to the beat, burying the cock until it peeked out from the top. After a few moments of that she went to Aaron next, followed by Jimmy. Then, finally, it was my turn.

She placed a hand on my shoulder first, which brought my dick to full attention. She steadied herself with that hand as she crouched down, and with her other hand she ran her thumb along my lips. This wasn't something she'd done with the others. I wondered if it had special meaning, but I could figure out her mystic eroticism.

She put my cock in her breasts. I inhaled deep, absorbing the smell of her perfume. Her tits were soft, warm, and inviting. My cock was enveloped from tip to balls. She pressed her breasts together firmly and began to move up and down to the beat.

As she moved the tip of my penis poked out of the top. I was met with her hot breath. I craved her mouth on my dick, or the slide of her tongue up my shaft. I knew I could move my hand over to her head, but this felt like absolutely blasphemy, a move some Greek mythical figure would do that would get him damned.

Almost as if she could read my mind she looked up at me. The look was neutral, but my conscience felt like it was a warning to stand back and let her do what she was doing. But, a moment later as she finished, she flicked her tongue lightly on my tip. Was this some sort of coded message, a promise for later?

She stood back up just as the song was ending.

"Stand, gentleman," she ordered.

We all did.

"Shirts off," she said.

We each took our shirts and tossed them away.

A new song came on, and she danced first to David. She grabbed his waistband and shimmied down, taking his pants down with him. He stepped out of his pants when they were down to his ankles. She went around to the rest of us, stripping us down each time. She would also stick out penises back in our underpants.

"We don't want accidentally touching," she said, smiling greedily, "These are for me alone."

We were all standing in our underwear with her in between us. Another new song came on. She began turning in a circle, her hands over her head. She then went around the circle, grabbing each of us in turn by the waistband of our underwear, and pulling us in close. She started a belly dancing motion, going around the circle of us, brushing up and teasing our cocks through our underwear.

As she moved she was slowly, elegantly, shimmying out of her skirt. It slipped down, so slowly, so skilled. Centimeter by centimeter it lowered, revealing more and more skin. First came to the top of her hips. Then the top of the cleft of her butt. Soon the teasing top of her trimmed pubic hair appeared.

Even when the skirt slipped past the widest part of ass and seemed certain to fall, she seamlessly adjusted her stance. The reveal of her pussy and her thighs would be just as slow and tantalizing as the rest of her.

After what felt like an eternity the skirt was at her feet. She gingerly stepped out of it. Even in the tight space between our bodies surrounding her she dipped and picked it up.

"That's all I have to take off," she said, tossing it over us.

"However, there are still more clothes to go," she said, eyes on our underwear.

Jimmy reached to his waistband, but she smacked his hand.

"I didn't say to do that," she said, "This isn't improv. You have to follow my directions."

We all nodded.

"You must be careful, because if you don't follow my instructions, you might have unwanted contact," she warned.

We all looked. I can't speak for all of them, but for me a little incidental contact was a small price to pay to fuck her.

"If your cocks touch, you're out," she added.

Incidental contact gave the rest the look of concern. The loss of Sahara... that made us all afraid.

"Trust me and you'll have the best sex of your life. This isn't a sloppy group bang, and I don't want a round of rotating cocks in every which way. What you get is what you need," she said, "Honor and shame from no condition rise. Act well your part: there all the honor lies."

"Alexander Pope," I said.

Sahara smiled. She came at me first. She started dancing to the song, which changed as if on cue. She put her hands on my face and kissed me. Her hands ran down my body as her tongue played in my mouth. She started kissing my neck and down my body. Her hands reached my underwear and pulled them down. She allowed my hard cock to flop out and bounce for a moment. She continued moving down. I hoped for her to suck, lick, or kiss it, but she only blew hot breath out of her nose on it as she moved down.

She pulled my underwear to my feet and I stepped out. She tossed them out of the circle, and went to each of the other guys in turn. I noticed she didn't use tongue when she kissed them. Did it mean something special for me?

With all of us stripped, she knelt in the middle. She beckoned us all in closer. We came in, gingerly trying to prevent incidental touching.

"Come, trust me," she said.

We all scooted in as close as we could. She reached forward and pulled us closer than we thought we could get. She looked at the dicks around her and gave a smile, then looked up at all of us, each in turn, making strong eye contact. I couldn't help but see each of our cock harden each more when she looked at us, putting us dangerously close to touching tips.

She then kissed each of our tips in turns. Unlike the look, which gave us an erotic rush, this felt like a relaxing touch, lowering the claustrophobic anxiety she had built up. I felt for sure she knew what she was doing and could trust her to see us through this.

She followed the kiss with tongue work. She licked each of our cocks in turn, first at the tips, then down the shaft. She got riskier, taking the cocks of each adjacent guy and putting her tongue between both tips, or between both shafts. Despite how close it got, she kept our dicks separate, even with only her tongue between them.

At one point her head was back, our cocks over her face, and her tongue swirled between the tips, at times touching all four dicks at once. One small wrong move, and we could touch.

She made no wrong moves.

"Step back gentlemen, give a girl some space," she said.

We obliged and she stood up. She walked to a bookshelf and picked up what looked like a tarot deck. She shuffled it quickly and approached each of us.

"Pick a card," she said.

We all picked cards. Instead of Tarot, they were chakras. I got Root, David got Sacral, Jimmy got Heart, Aaron got Throat.

"Ass, Vagina, Tits, and Mouth," she said to us in turn, "This is your assigned spot. There are no rotations today. This is about the male bonding, and you can't do that if your mind is on where you go next."

She moved over to a chaise lounge.

"David, lay down," she said.

David lay on his back. She straddled him, with her elbows on the low back.

"Simon, behind," she directed, "Jimmy, in front. Aaron, side."

We went where she put us. She directed us to a nearby table with lube. I lubed her ass and pussy, as well as my cock. Jimmy used body oil to ready her tits and his cock. David and Aaron didn't need to lube.

"Let's begin gentlemen," she said.

She got into position. She turned her head to take Aaron in her mouth. Jimmy put his dick between her breasts. David pulled her down onto his cock. And finally, I slid in her ass.

As if on cue, the music changed again. It seemed to fit the scenario: Slow and tense, and building into a rhythm.

I started finding my stroke in her ass. This wasn't my first time, but this was the first time I did it where I could feel another man's cock inside the girl at the same time. It threw me off for a moment, but I gave Sahara's ass a squeeze. I would have crawled over broken glass to squeeze an ass like this, let alone be inside it. Damn the discomfort, this was an experience to be enjoyed.

And like that, a change in mindset made all the difference. If anything, anal in a DP was better. There was the extra stimulation, and the shared experience. I could thrust a little harder, and hear her moans muffled by Aaron's cock down her throat.

There was just more movement as well. Not just David and I pushing together, but Jimmy thrusting and breathing hard. And Aaron, sighing as his hand was on Sahara's head. But most of all Sahara. She was not a passive recipient. She was moving more subtlely, with no wasted motion. She had each of us inside her, and under control. Her body signaled what was good, what was bad, and what to do more and harder.

But she slowed down and took Aaron's dick out of her mouth.

"Guys, I didn't bring you here to be silent," she said.

It took us a second to pick up what she meant, but it finally clicked. I tried to remember the opening to one of our orgy sketches.

"Hey, guys, not to break the mood, but have you ever thought about how straight guys are so afraid to sleep together?"

"Huh?" Jimmy said, in an exaggerated acting voice.

"I mean, we're all balls deep in this chick right now, okay, but we literally sleep in the same bed together and people get weird," I said.

"Is this the time?" Aaron asked.

"You know, he has a point," David said, "Like, we all shared tents on our camping trip."

"Along with that hot hitchhiker," I said.

"Don't remind me, I'm still paying off the credit card she stole from me!" Jimmy said.

We went on, going through the sketches best we could remember. I have to give credit to porn actors who can remember lines in those conditions. The muffled laughs of Sahara kept us going.

We exhausted all our sketches, but Sahara was far from exhausted. With our part done, we learned how much she had in her. She had been holding back this whole time.

First she started blowing Aaron with her full talents, using her tongue on his tip in ways that took him out in less than a minute. Aaron had to grab the furniture so he wouldn't fall.

Next was Jimmy. She pressed her boobs tight and set the pace.

"I want you to cum on my face," she told him.

"Okay," Jimmy said.

She stopped him when he tried to pull out of her cleavage.

"No, you stay there," she said.

She angled his cock to point upward. She vigorously finished him off. He shot a load of cum up. She opened her mouth and caught some, while the rest went on her face, and some on her tits. He had two more bursts that she caught, then the rest just dribbled between her tits.

"Good boy," she said.

She grabbed the edge of the couch. David and I were still thrusting inside her. She shifted her body and started moving her hips in a different rhythm. She would clench her sphincter on my cock, and do Kegels on David's cock. I was close to finishing soon.

"Aw, God, I'm going to cum," I said.

I came. Every spurt came as she moved away, like she was milking me with her ass.

I was in ecstasy for several long moments. As I came back down to normal I heard David cum.

"Damn, you gotta teach Gwen that," he said.

"I'll teach her more than that," Sahara promised.

I pulled out and Sahara got off David. She still had Jimmy's cum on her face and tits, and David and my cum were beginning to leak out. Even in the hot post-coital mess she looked composed and goddess-like.

"So, guys, how does it feel to live out one of your sketches?" she asked.

All us guys looked at each other, without much to say. Sahara got a wicked smile.

"I'll let you talk amongst yourself while I clean up. I want answers to that question ready when I get back," she said.

#

We talked about it while she showered, and when she returned, dressed only in a simple bathrobe, we shared tea and talked about it. I led the discussion, about how while we joked about it, we were not at all prepared for the actual thing, and how little we wrote the female role in the sketch.

"How would you write it now that you know?" she asked.

We got into a discussion about that for a while. That led to some reevaluations of other sketches, of other life choices and how we found our way out and back to Los Angeles.

Before long we saw it was getting late and we should go.

"It's been a lovely time," Sahara said, "Simon, can you stay behind?"

The guys looked at me. Jimmy and Aaron seemed to wonder what I may have done to get picked. David seemed to know, and ushered the other two out.

"Let's have a drink," Sahara said, ditching her tea pot in favor of a bottle of liquor.

"You've already slept with me, no need to seduce me more," I said as I took my glass.

"I'm not short on lovers, I assure you that. It's your other talents I desire," she said.

"You need me to write for you," I said.

"You're perceptive," she said.

"You want David for his directing skill, and you know I did the writing," I said, "Aaron and Jimmy..."

"They are nice, but let's be honest where the talent is," she said,

"So, are you looking for me to adapt our orgy sketches, or something new?" I asked.

"Both," she said, "Your original scripts were good, but they'll be better with experience instead of just fantasy."

"Alright," I said, "I can give them a polish."

"What other fantasies do you want to write about?" she asked.

"What can you offer me?" I asked.

Her smile could have enough of an answer.

"Unless I misjudged you, your tastes aren't nearly as exotic as my experience, but plenty wide enough for the audience that needs our message," she said.

"I'm willing to go beyond my own horizons... for the audience, of course," I said.

She shook her head, but raised her glass.

"For the audience, then."

We clinked glasses, and started our own private partnership. It wouldn't take magic hypersigils to make my fantasies come true. I was the author of my sexual destiny now.

The End