Baywatch Secrets Ch 06 Captain Candice

********************

11000 words. Tags: baywatch, victoria's secret, Candice Swanepoel, Behati Prinsloo, Lily Aldridge, Stacy Kamano, threesome, skinny dipping, phone sex

********************

This is the sixth in an open ended "celeb harem" story putting together two of the greatest franchises known to Man, Baywatch and the Victoria's Secret Angels, and the third in a trilogy recounting the adventures of our hero going solo undercover at the 2016 Victoria's Secret Swim Special. Outfits and references are based on real life look-books and clips.

The events of Chapter 5 left some big unresolved questions, and our hero is running out of time...

********************

By the third evening, I had had the opportunity to get to know 12 out of the 13 supermodels at the VS Swim Shoot, 10 of them very, very intimately. The one Angel that stood head, shoulders, tits, and ass above the rest eluded my pursuit, whether through a quirk of scheduling or by some more intelligent design.

All that was about to change.

I stood at the massive villa pool where we had opened the VS shoot not too long ago, discussing the shots of the past three days with accomplished photographer David Bellemere. He excelled at getting the most out of his girls, and they invariably came away so sexed up after his shoots that they were ready to jump on any unsuspecting tour guides lucky enough to get in their way. Needless to say, his mastery of his art made my job a lot easier, and enjoyable.

"So I hear you've been taking the girls to some special secret spots around the island? You've been holding out on me, Mike!"

"Awww Dave, I'm just a humble tour guide doing my job, I don't get to pick out where you shoot! Besides, if you went to do a proper shoot you'd need way more than my crappy scooter for your equipment!"

"From what I hear, I'm packing less equipment than you!"

The general hubbub of the hundred-or-so crew and guests at the pool quietened a little as the VIPs started arriving. First up was Demi Lovato. Seeking to top the previous year's success, VS Swim '16 had scheduled two musical guest stars, and this night belonged to the powerful female singer. Demi and her backup performers received the polite applause well, and immediately set about doing final sound checks. Unlike a normal live show, the main purpose of tonight's performance was to simply to film Demi and the Angels, hence the complete lack of ceremony.

There was silence, and then excited chatter and snapping of personal cellphones, as the longest black limo I had ever seen pulled up to the villa. The valets opened the door, and one, by one, each of the thirteen Victoria's Secret supermodels stepped out and took to the red carpet. Inline with the dress code of tonight, they were all dressed in black, but each stylist had mixed it up with fabrics and cuts, going for an edgier look. Jasmine's tits defied gravity in a lacy bodice, Josephine wore a see through tank top over a black strapless bra, Lily flaunted her long neck in a v-neck bandeau top. On anyone else the outfits might have been considered trashy, but here they served the purpose of accentuating the models' sexiness without oversexualizing them. Sara was the main exception in the group, conservatively dressed in a long sleeved turtleneck in sharp contrast to all the skin her peers were showing. I hadn't seen her since the disastrous beach volleyball rematch earlier in the afternoon - now she seemed defeated, avoiding eye contact, her normally vivacious personality all but beaten out of her.

Last out was Candice. Impossibly long legs, topped off in stylish suede zip-up heels, announced her presence first. Then an elegant hand reached out for support from a familiar looking tuxedoed man, followed by her golden curls and radiant smile. The Flamingo, flaunting her greatest assets, had picked the skimpiest outfit tonight, just a black string bikini covered by a tiny but equally black leather skirt and a sheer see-through top.

David nudged me, and I remembered to breathe.

A microphone's electronic squeal shattered through the jovial atmosphere, and across the water, Niki Baratta clumsily clambered on to one of the pool tables.

"Ok girls, you all took so long to get dressed we're ten minutes behind schedule so listen up. Demi is going to do her song, I want you to spread out and just dance along the pool. Nothing too fancy, just some booty shakes in place. YOU ALL GOT THAT?" The unsuspecting table groaned as Niki shifted her weight.

"Just by ourselves, Miss Barata? Wouldn't it be better if we just mixed around with everyone here and had a good time?" Lily dared to speak up for her girls.

"Don't be ABSURD, Aldridge! How am I going to get you in the shot then? LINE UP AND SELL SOME FUCKING LINGERIE!"

For the next three minutes, Demi belted out her hit pop rock song, "Cool for the Summer", while her backup dancers punched out precisely choreographed moves and the Victoria's Secret supermodels danced awkwardly in a line at the poolside. They just seemed like extremely overqualified backup dancers for the real backup dancers. The song ended, and, after yelling "CUUUUT!!!", Niki made everyone stay put while she huddled with the film crew. No attempt was made to liven up the crowd, or release the starving Angels from their posts to have a bite of the excessive buffet laid out for everyone.

After minutes that seemed like hours, Niki broke with her crew, huffed and puffed her way atop a creaky table and proclaimed, "Skriver! What the fuck do you call that? Are you even fucking trying? Arms out tits up abs in! AGAIN!"

Demi struck up a pose. The backup dancers primed themselves. The Angels put their best smiles on.

Demi's performance ended. Niki consulted her crew, moved cameras around. "Ribeiro! This is the fucking U.S. of A! Don't give me your dumbass Brazilian titty shake unless I ask for it, or you can go back home! AGAIN!"

And again they danced.

Seven.

More.

Times.

lt was torture. I could see the look of fear in Demi's eyes. The show had two guest stars; they really only needed one, and Nick Jonas had already done his bit. Demi had always been a strong singer, but her career had suffered due to the lower sex appeal of her fuller body type. It was an open secret of the performance biz that how you looked was more important than how you sounded. Voices could be lip-synched and autocorrected, but you couldn't photoshop someone in a live performance. Demi needed to be seen with VS more than VS needed her.

By the time the second song was done a whole two hours later, nobody was in any mood to eat. There was no applause as Demi's troupe packed up their belongings and shipped off. Niki had yelled a perfunctory "THAT'S A WRAP!", and dismissed the girls for the evening before cussing out her film crew and storming off back to whatever pit of hell she was staying in. The bevy of supermodels fell on the now-cold food like ravenous vultures, while their entourages of stylists and assistants fussed over them. Even when the cameras were off, they had an image to uphold.

The moment I got her alone, I filled Lily in on the day's misadventure on the beach.

"Smart move cutting the damage to just one girl instead of four. Poor Sara, no wonder she's been looking so down!"

"I never got to thank her for her sacrifice."

"Uh... where is she??"

We heard her before we found her. Gentle sobs haunted the outdoor women's bathroom, and the quick-thinking Lily grabbed my hand and pulled me in as soon as she recognized the voice. Sara was curled up in a ball at the far corner, dabbing her eyes with hastily snatched toilet paper.

"Oh honey... what happened??"

"Go away! I don't want you to see me like this!"

"Sara... what did Niki do to you? Where's Nick?"

Sara took Lily's hand and slowly, shakily, got up. She looked at me with trembling eyes, betrayed by the eyeshadow trails of shed tears. "Gone. And Dolores says I'm flying out first thing tomorrow."

"What? But the shoot's not done til Friday!"

"I'm no use to them like this."

Before Lily could shut me up, I carelessly took the bait. "Like what?"

Sara burst into tears, and Lily hugged her close. She stared daggers into my eyes, but then softened as she realized I had no idea what VS did to rulebreakers. As the senior Angel comforted the freshman rookie, she lifted up her colleague's black turtleneck shirt by way of explanation.

Sara's back was covered in welts. Sharp red streaks lacerated her skin - not enough to leave a permanent scar, but enough that she would clearly not be able to continue in the Swimsuit photoshoot. Still sobbing, Sara turned to face me.

"They didn't stop there." She hooked her hands under her hem, and drew her shirt up and over her head. As Sara stood topless before me, Lily gasped.

"Oh my god, Sara!! They whipped your arms too?"

Sara shrugged, defeated. "I tried to fight them off, and they just didn't care that they hit my arms... I think they wouldn't even have cared if they hit my face."

I took her into my arms and stroked her hair as she teared up again at the thought of having her best modeling assets ruined. Ordinarily I would have been turned on by hugging a topless Victoria's Secret Angel so intimately, but now Sara was just a scared little girl, and her wings had been clipped. She turned her face up to me and looked deep into my eyes before giving me a tender, almost pleading, kiss.

"Can I sleep with you tonight?"

Just then, the door burst open, and Candice stumbled in laughing, balancing two gaudy margarita cups in her hands. She barely managed to set the cups down at the sink without breaking them, steadied herself - and then realized she had company.

"Hey Lil, didn't know you were fooling around with our sexy tour guide to-Oh my god, Sara? Is that you?? What happened??"

Lily crossed her arms. "You happened."

"Me?"

I tore my eyes away from the drunk supermodel and glanced at Lily. "I think it's time to burst the bubble."

"Take Sara. She doesn't need to hear this."

"Hear what?"

"Are you going to be alright on your own?"

"I've known her for years, it'll be easier if she hears it from me."

"Guys? Hear what??"

As I covered Sara up and escorted her out of the bathroom, Lily began to explain how Victoria's Secret treated every Angel not named Candice. I signaled my driver Louis, and took Sara home. For the rest of the evening, Miranda and I made the sweetest, gentlest love to my brave, mutilated Angel, and by the morning, she was gone.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

By the time I reached the site of Behati and Candice's doubles shoot the next day, David was already down in the beach working on solo shots with Behati. I was with the rest of the crew, stealing some respite from the sun in the cabanas set several yards back. Most were shading their eyes to get a good look at the radiant Namibian model in a cute pink two piece. She splashed around in the crystal clear water, clearly back to being in the moment. Behati clearly loved sharing her joy with the camera, and from what I had seen, the cameras loved her back. My mind started to wander as I mentally stripped the sexually adventurous Mrs. Adam Levine in my mind's eye...

"Hey... Mike, is it? Can I get some help?"

An older brunette lady, clearly one of the dozens of stylists on the VS roster, was beckoning. Beside her, almost a head taller, stood Candice Swanepoel, the Flamingo, her blonde locks complemented by the brilliant yellow bikini she had on. Our eyes met and hers widened in recognition, but the stylist was firmly beckoning and I felt myself walk over on autopilot.

"Hold this," the lady said, and indicated that I should take over holding up Candice's hair. We stood in awkward silence as the stylist proceeded to spray every inch of Candice's body with a bottle of suntan. My eyes followed the blue bottle as it caressed Candice's elegant neck and mesmerizing cleavage, kissed her impossibly trim abs and waist, then lavished attention on her endless, toned legs and butt.

"Wishing they hadn't invented spray-on suntan?" Candice joked, and we all chuckled as the ice broke a little. But it wasn't truly gone until the stylist packed up and went back to her bags and I had let down Candice's hair. We were finally alone, at least in our little personal space.

I had to say something. "Hi."

"Hello..."

A pregnant pause. I knew I didn't have to wait long.

"I'm so, so sorry! Lil told me everything yesterday and B told me the rest! I thought you were just another random, but you're really trying to help the others break into TV! Is Sara ok? Where is she? Lil said you were staying with Randa?"

So many questions. Candice had a way of talking in long bursts, and I wondered if it was because she was so used to being at the center of attention. I gently brushed her hair back and let my hand linger just a little too long on her cheek. "She flew out at the crack of dawn. She's fine. Are you?"

Her piercing blue eyes blinked in a rare moment of introspection, but before she could say anything, we were interrupted by a familiar voice.

"Flamingo, you're up!" Behati strolled up to us, sporting her trademark wide grin. "You can fool around later, it's my turn!" With a swift swing of her arm, she playfully whacked my butt.

My already jackhammering heart rate doubled in the presence of the two supermodel best friends. I looked around nervously to see if anyone was watching - silly me, of course there were stolen glances - but thankfully the film crew had gotten what they needed and scuttled off to get ready for Candice's solo beach shoot. I greeted Behati with the traditional double peck on the cheeks, whispering, "I'm gonna pay you back for that!"

We sent Candice off for her shoot, and after she had dealt with her retinue, Behati winked at me, and ducked into the nearest tent. I gave it a few minutes (ok, one minute), checked around to see nobody was watching -me-, and monied around the tent to enter from the other side.

Behati was on me almost immediately, kissing my lips and neck and pressing her wonderfully firm body to mine. My hard-on rose to the occasion and I instinctively grabbed her tight butt and ground myself on her crotch. The horny supermodel shuddered and started to moan, so I stopped and smothered her quickly with my mouth. "Shhhhh!! They'll hear us!"

Behati just giggled in response and nibbled my upper lip. Of course she got off on that.

I cast a look around. The tent was relatively sparsely furnished, just three clothes racks of bikinis and a long bench.

My seductress paused, arms wrapped around my neck. "You like?"

"This is the changing room." A statement of fact, more than a question.

"Nobody's allowed in here so they stay well away. You, my hunky lover, are breaking the rules! Oooooooh!"

"Do you ever take anything seriously?" I asked with a half smile at my irrepressible Angel.

"Some things!"

"Like what?"

"Well... fucking? I loooove fucking." She slid a hand under my shorts and slyly pumped my cock.

I slapped her hand away half heartedly. "B! That wasn't even serious!"

Behati's usual happy-go-lucky grin faded. I could get used to her fun-girl persona, but every time she looked at me with her raw soul bared, I marveled at how hauntingly beautiful she really was under all that personality. She thought for a bit. "Modeling."

"Really, even with how they treat you guys?"

She shrugged. "This is what it takes to be the best in the world. I've done this all my life! I met my best friend here! I met Adam here!" She waved a hand at the bikini racks. "Traveling the world! Inspiring women, fucking men, and vice versa! This is who I am."

I sighed internally. She knew what I was getting at, and she wasn't going anywhere.

Still, there was the here and now. "Hmm. Inspire me."

Behati hesitated. "What do you mean?"

I nodded at the racks. "Who do you want to be?"

A slow grin dawned on her face and she lighted up again. With a few swift motions she stripped off her pink bikini from the day's shoot and stood naked before me. "Close your eyes."

I definitely did not have my eyes closed. "Why??"

She stamped her foot petulantly, boobs jiggling deliciously. "Close! Your! Eyes! I wanna surprise you!"

Reluctantly, I complied. Dainty hands grabbed mine, and led me over to where I last saw the bench. "Sit."

I waited, listening to the clacking and sliding of hangers. Then they stopped, and after a few breaths of suspense I felt the weight of someone straddling my thighs. "Open."

On my lap was a blonde beauty, hair parted down the middle to perfectly frame her face. She was dressed in a bright blue frilly bikini with a skirt like bottom that was way too short to cover her crotch, which just barely brushed up against my straining erection. She tossed her hair back and spoke in an exaggerated Valley Girl lilt: "Like, so Tay says Nick Jonas is a totally lousy bang, but like, he's my friend and I totally just rode him, and he gave me the biggest toe-curling orgasm, like, EVER! So like, what's up with that? Also, yeah, Tay and I are totally BFFs now and I totally can't sing but I just like hanging out with all these pop stars, I mean, YOLO, right? A-N-dubs, you know where this outfit's from?"

I chuckled and rewarded the amateur actress with a kiss. "Martha, I would recognize this bikini from your pool shoot any day! And as I recall, we had some unfinished business..."

Behati giggled as she immediately broke character in her first cosplay. "No fair! You didn't even hesitate on that one!"

"Well you made it harder with that terrible accent! She's not even from California!"

"That's the only American accent I know!"

We play-wrestled each other, and I won when I buried my face in her cleavage, licking up the exposed top of her breasts. VS washed their inventory of course, but I could've sworn I caught a whiff of Martha's intoxicating scent in the fabric. Behati giggled and writhed at the tickling of my tongue at first, and then surrendered to my stronger arms and warm mouth.

Moving quickly, I pulled her bikini top down with my teeth, exposing her left breast, then right, and hungrily lapped away at her nipples. Behati wasn't idle either, and grabbed my shoulders to grind her pussy on my hard-on in long, hard, strokes.

The pressure was too much, and with a free right hand I reached down and pushed aside both layers of clothing remaining between me and my nymphomaniac lover. Behati closed her eyes and her eyelids fluttered as I slowly sheathed my rock hard cock in her inviting pussy.

"Martha" rode me for countless minutes, the only sound in the tent being the sexy little gasps she made every time I rocked my hips and she wiggled her butt just right. Our breaths grew more ragged and my thrusts more desperate, until I felt a familiar rush. "Stop stop I have to pull out."

Behati kept right on fucking me. "Don't stop! Fill me with your cum! I want to feel your hot- Nonono whyyyy..."

I couldn't hold it much longer and had pulled myself out despite Behati's protestations. "Why do you always want me to come inside you?"

Behati looked away, shyly. "I don't know! It's just kind of my kink... anyway, I'm in that window of my period! Super horny, no consequences fucking!"

I laughed and kissed her on the lips. "You're always full of surprises. Go fetch me another Angel to fuck."

"Close your eyes."

More clacking, more sliding of racks. Some excited giggling.

"What are you trying to pull, you little minx?" I murmured, eyes firmly squeezed shut.

"Oh, I think you're going to like this one, Mikey." The voice had become a touch more nasal and had a subtle Australian twang to the vowels.

"Miranda??" I ventured, wondering how Behati was doing the tricky antipodean accent so much better than her first attempt.