Casa Carmen

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Author's note: This chapter has benefited greatly from editing by Nick, as well as the gracious loan of Duncan from Road to EGOT (which I greatly enjoy) by ManUnited1086. Apologies for the long delay between posts as personal commitments have crept up, but on the plus side, the next 4 chapters are fairly well plotted!

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This is the seventh in an open ended "celeb harem" story putting together two of the greatest franchises known to Man, Baywatch and the Victoria's Secret Angels. Outfits and references are based on real life look-books and clips.

A month in St. Barts has been fruitful on the Victoria's Secret side, but now our hero finds out just how much more he has to learn to produce an HBO epic. Time for old, and new, allies....

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< Messages___________ Seth ___________Details

I will let you know next steps

_____________Yesterday 2:43 PM

__________________________On its way to tricia

Thanks

_____________Yesterday 8:52 PM

_______________________Had the call. Went well

What did they ask?

Just play it straight

__________They're moving faster than we thot

How do you mean

__________________________Dont worry bout it

Don't WORRY?

______________Today 6:38 AM

???

_________________We WANT them to move fast

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After a month away in tropical paradise, the plush offices of HBO's Los Angeles location didn't quite hold the same appeal as when I had first walked in through the door, armed with nothing more than an idea. Thanks to pulling some favors from my day job in real estate, I was sitting in a trendy Starck-inspired chair before Michael Lombardo, President of Programming.

Believe me, this was an intimidating meeting. Michael personally greenlit every original series coming through HBO. After the runaway success of Game of Thrones, I knew he was hungry for the next hit for when the series came to its inevitable end. I had pitched Baywatch Secrets to him as a gritty successor to one of the highest rated TV shows of all time, but it was his idea to connect it to the broader DC extended universe in direct response to Netflix's tie-up with Marvel. And so the money was found, a pilot ordered, and I found myself Executive Producer of a show that would live or die based on whether he liked it or not. Basically, Michael was my sugar daddy.

And Daddy wasn't happy.

"You didn't get a single contract?" The silver haired executive never raised his voice if he could achieve the same effect with an eyebrow. "What the hell were you doing down there if you didn't get a contract?"

I blinked. "I have verbal-"

"You have verbal nothing, Mike. You know what verbal is in this business? No? Want to guess? You're selling a house, do you take down the fucking sign when someone -tells- you they're buying?"

"No, but-"

"If we don't have Victoria's Secret Angels on the show, does it make any sense to call it Baywatch Secrets?"

"Look. I know these girls. They want this. It just wasn't the right time or place to-"

"Mike, while you were fucking around down in Guadeloupe, we attached Jeremy to this project, did we not?" I nodded, still flattered that they had signed him up to direct our pilot. Jeremy Podeswa came with an impressive track record, having directed some of HBO"s best Game of Thrones episodes. "You know why?"

"Look, I appreciate you're committed to this. So am I, and-"

"Emmy, Mike."

"M-E?" I asked, repeating the syllables but not quite comprehending their import.

"Emmy? THE Emmies? Little angel statue holding a ball?" I couldn't help but glance at Michael's impressive collection lining up the top shelf. "Guy's been snubbed for his Emmy more times than we care to count. This show is his chance. IF... he has a decent script. And where are you on that?"

We had agreed that I would find the writer who came closest to our vision for the series. I didn't need reminding how critical the plot elements in the pilot would be. "I have a guy in mind. I'm meeting him this afternoon."

"Get me a writer. In writing. I want the creatives working early and often on this, Mike." He indicated the end of the meeting with a curt nod at his door, and went back to his computer. Thoroughly abashed at how much work I had left to do, I made to get up.

Just as I reached to close the door, Michael spoke again, the reflection of his scrolling screen forming a faint hologram in his stern glasses. "And what about the men?"

I paused. "What men?"

"Give me fucking strength. Men, Mike. You're going to have an all-female Baywatch?" Michael sighed melodramatically, and cast a critical look at me over his glasses. "Look, I'm putting a real casting director in charge. 7pm tonight at the Grove. He'll talk you through it."

"Understood. Just...it wasn't Guadeloupe, by the way."

"What?"

"The island. It was St Bart's. Not Guadeloupe."

"Are you deliberately trying to piss me off now? Get the fuck out of here before I decide I should get a new show-runner too."

And that was that. I was dismissed.

My head was a mess as I made my way back to my car. Halfway through the lot, my cellphone buzzed. Crap, two missed calls. "Stace?"

"Finally! How'd it go?"

"Oh babe... you ever seen a lion mauling a gazelle? It was worse. Hang on let me switch you to Bluetooth..."

I filled Stacy in on my disastrous meeting with Lombardo as I headed back to Beverly Hills. She had helped me run point on things in LA while I was gone, but had been called to an assignment in Europe at the last minute before I got back. I hadn't seen her since I left for St Bart's, and found myself missing her touch and her smile. We had become very close in the last two months of collaborating on this new project, and emotions were stirring that I hadn't felt in decades.

"So wait... are you supposed to hand over casting to this guy or what?" Stacy sounded increasingly anxious. She had her own career reboot riding on this too. "Are they trying to just take over our show? What are you gonna tell Carmen?"

I shrugged, to no one in particular. "We'll know more when I meet this guy. Lombardo's right though, I know jack shit about running a tv show. Right now, I think I'm just about still in charge, though. We have to trust that HBO know what they're doing, Stace."

Our call ended as I pulled up in the cul-de-sac of an elegant two-story house with a contemporary/Mediterranean design. It wasn't quite a McMansion, but then it wasn't far off, and I knew the interior was every bit as fine as the exterior, if not more so. Sprinklers sputtered to life, peppering the well-trimmed hedges as I strode up the steps to the arched doorway.

A familiar-looking blonde woman in a dark blue top and designer jeans answered the doorbell. Seeing my look of confusion, she turned back and called down the hallway. "Either you got me a stripper and I love you, or your agent is here!"

I heard a patter of excited steps. The door pulled open and Carmen Electra appeared. She turned to her blonde friend and playfully slapped her ass. "Amy, behave! This is Mike!" Carmen squealed and wrapped both arms around me, tiptoeing to kiss my cheek. "You're early!"

I returned her hug, feeling her ample breasts press up against my chest. "I'm feeling a bit overdressed though!"

Carmen stepped back and admired my navy blue suit and tie, while I copped an eyeful of her deep cleavage and bare waist. She was dressed, if that was indeed the right word, in a cropped tank top and short shorts. Never change, Carmen. "I think you look totally delicious," she said, "but we can help you out of that!"

As Carmen took my suit jacket, the blonde woman (Amy?) stretched her arms behind her back, subtly perking up her smaller chest. "Aren't you going to introduce us?"

"Someone's keen. Amy, this is Mike - we worked together on Baywatch years ago, and now he's helping me with the sale! Mike, this is Amy, we were just having some drinks and saying goodbye to this beautiful house."

I realized where I had seen the blonde's catty blue eyes and button nose. "Amy Smart! Fuck, I mean, god, I love your movies!" I gushed.

Amy shook my hand, but held on to it. "Which one?" She asked, with a grin.

"Uh.. Crush? Crank! Crank! With Jason Statham!" I lied. Carmen knew me too well, and busted me immediately. "Sure it's not Road Trip?"

Of course it was Road Trip. Every hot blooded young male had obsessed over Amy Smart's sensual striptease seduction of Breckin Meyer when the movie first came out. With the advent of DVDs and eventually streaming Internet, I'd had the chance to (academically) study those sweet, perky breasts over and over again. It helped that she'd gone on to a moderate level of success in film and television.

Amy caught my involuntary glance at her chest, and laughed. "It's okay, it's how I got famous, I'm used to it." She moved a step closer and kissed my reddening cheek. "Besides," she whispered, "I kinda like the idea of you jerking off to me."

Carmen cleared her throat. "Since we have some time... wanna help us with the wine?"

Amy led us back to the living room and went to the kitchen to look for another glass. The room had a modern finish and was now even more minimally furnished than normal now that Carmen had mostly moved out. A lone couch and coffee table were the only things left. On the table was a half full bottle of Bordeaux. I sat down on the couch with Carmen, whose glass had magically appeared in her hand. "So you know Amy Smart, huh?"

Carmen took a sip of win. "We worked on Starsky and Hutch, remember? With Brande? How is Brande by the way?" She propped her head up with one hand, and I involuntarily stared into her light blue eyes. They were... Electrifying? Corny, but fitting.

"She's good! We're working on something together now actually. That's the other thing I wanted to talk to you about."

"Sounds intriguing. Tell all, Mr. Realtor."

"I'm bringing Baywatch back."

"Seriously?" Carmen laughed. "You mean the movie? I'm still pissed they only asked Pam and David back!"

"That's why I'm doing a separate TV show. I've got a pilot deal with HBO, I'm rounding up the old crew and some new... talent. But we've got to do it right and Baywatch isn't Baywatch without you. You in?"

Carmen laughed again, but stopped as I looked at her with a straight face. "Holy shit. You're serious. You're doing a remake of Baywatch without the Hoff? Does he know?"

Fuck. She had a point. We'd had two months of relatively secretive preparations of course, but I had never really considered getting a blessing from David Hasselhoff. The man who through sheer vision and force of will took a mundane lifeguard drama and turned it into Baywatch. Although Carmen, like Brande, had already been a prominent Playboy model before joining Baywatch, the Hoff had definitely made my career and that of countless other actors, including Stacy. The guys at HBO must have reached out to him, right?

"Sure, he's fine with it. We're not doing a remake, though. Its the same timeline, just 15 years into the future. That's why I'm back, that's why Stacy and Brande are back, that's why we want you to guest."

Carmen didn't seem to give it a second thought. "You know, I put the swimsuit back on a couple years ago for a Halloween thing and it was just like old times! I love playing Lani! Fuck yes, I'm in!"

We were interrupted by Amy, coming back from the kitchen. "It looks like you really cleaned out, Carm, I can't find any other glass for our guest here. What're we gonna do?" She winked at her friend, picked her glass off the table and settled on the other side of me on the couch.

Carmen swished the wine in her glass, and a playful smile dawned across her face. "Well, we'll just have to improvise..."

In a few swift moves, she drained the glass, took my face in her hands, and planted her lips on mine. I pulled back a little in surprise, but quickly sipped and then drank the sweet nectar that flowed from Carmen's mouth. As the flow of liquid slowed to a trickle, her tongue followed, and I sucked the last drops from it.

"Well, that's one way of solving it!" I joked, turning to Amy, only to be met by her lips and hair smothering my face. Perhaps because it was only our first kiss, Amy seemed a much gentler kisser, and I hungrily drank from and made out with the beautiful actress. I slid my left and right hands up the thighs of Carmen and Amy respectively, and when Amy broke her kiss, I looked between the two women. "Fuck me, is this the Starsky and Hutch scene?"

Carmen looked at her costar, and grinned slyly. "Better. You're gonna get what Owen never got, boy-toy." She leaned over, while Amy reached across me and pulled her face closer. I watched as their noses tilted and lips met. The tipsy girls were giving me my own lesbian makeout performance right in front of my eyes. I pulled the chins of the two women toward me, and then joined in the action. They welcomed me into their kiss greedily, and we tried a triangular makeout session for a while before eventually giving up and alternating: Amy peppering me with little kisses; me exploring Carmen's mouth with my tongue; Carmen biting Amy's lips; both girls turning to me and taking turns making out with me while the other kissed down my neck and licked me up to my ears.

I finally undid my belt and shucked my pants and boxers down, letting my tormented erection spring free. "This is the part where my character would have gone down on Owen's character for like, a really serious hardcore head session" said Carmen as she sank to her knees in front of me and wrapped her rich lips around the head of my throbbing dick. As her warm, familiar mouth started weaving its wonderful oral magic, I pulled Amy closer by her waist and buried my face in her chest. She moaned as I bit and sucked on her neck and the tops of her breasts. Carmen loved it when I pleasured other women while she pleasured me, and hummed her approval on my cock.

When she couldn't take it anymore, Amy gave me a big, sloppy kiss and kissed her way down my bared chest. "And this is the part", she said, "where my character would have joined in and given Owen's character the best, most mind-blowing double blowjob of his life". She licked the base of my cock while Carmen switched from sucking on me to bobbing her head up and down, taking in a little bit more of me each time. I leaned back and slowly undid my tie in disbelief as I watched two of the hottest sex icons in the world hungrily lick and suck my dick. The girls clearly knew how to share. When Amy was done with my shaft she kissed her way up to Carmen and they messily made out with each other with my cock in the way, before Carmen conceded the tip and Amy took her turn blowing me. I undid my shirt as I watched them sensually work my member, and when I was fully naked I reached over and started playing with Carmen's ass and pussy through her sexy skimpy shorts.

Carmen was having none of it. She stood up and pulled down her shorts in one swift motion. "That's enough foreplay. I want me some man meat!"

Amy looked up as Carmen pushed her gently aside and straddled me. I groaned as the pretty blonde actress helped to guide my throbbing, well lubricated cock deep into Carmen Electra's shaved pussy. I almost forgot I was penetrating her as I looked up at her surgically perfected breasts and horny expression.

"Ohhhh fuck I forgot how good you feel in me! Now fuck me like you mean it!" Like every Playboy model I'd met, Carmen fucked like a pro, and she supported herself against the couch as I triumphantly motorboated her glorious tits and drilled deep into her vagina. "Oh! oh! oh!" Carmen gasped with every thrust, knowing it turned me on. The couch creaked with every shift of our bodies.

"Carm," I panted, as my oversexed friend rode me, "What's the furniture situation upstairs. Are there still beds in the rooms?"

Carmen paused, and looked from me to Amy, who was sitting awkwardly beside us. "Good point." She dismounted me, and took Amy's hand. "This way, stud." I followed her bare ass (and Amy's clothed one) up the flight spiral stairs to Carmen's former bedroom. It had been stripped barren since the last time I'd visited, but the four poster bed was still in pride of place. Carmen jumped on the bed, and patted the empty space beside her. "Let's get comfortable."

I didn't need to be told twice. I crawled onto the crisp, white sheets, drawing Carmen into a deep kiss. We both looked at Amy, who was leaning on the post with a dreamy half smile on her face.

"You can't join us if you're wearing all that! This is strictly no clothes allowed!"

"Well then... I wouldn't want to break the undress code..." Amy unzipped her jeans and slid them down, flaunting her long, toned legs, revealing a flimsy red thong.

"Fuck, girl, you look so fucking hot right now!" Carmen squealed, just as turned on I was.

Amy laughed, and gave me a shy look. "Is this the scene you like to jack off to, MIke?"

I was startled - Porn usually doesn't talk back to you. "In Road Trip? Well, you look so tasty in all of em I could pretty much jack off to you anytime..."

Amy did the sexy thing girls do when they brush their hair back and give you the "You're getting laid" look. "Show me."

"What?"

"Jack off to me."

"I don't- I mean, doesn't that creep you out?"

"I wanna see you do it." Amy had me by the metaphorical balls.

"Yeah, whats the matter Mike? Shriveling up when you have to do it in front of real live women?" Carmen egged her on, despite my raging erection being inside her just minutes ago.

What the hell. I stroked the base of my shaft. "I need a little visual stimulation, Amy."

As I started slowly stroking the length of my cock for her, Amy hooked her hands under her top and drew it over her head in a smooth motion. Her creamy white breasts hung tantalizingly, a little lower, yet a little fuller, than they had in her youth. She still stood over a foot away from the bed, where we could see her entire body, almost naked but for the satin thong accentuating her hips. "Does this help?"

"It helps a little bit, yeah. Amy wants to know if her naked body is making me hard, Carmen." I said, encircling my cock with my hand and pointing it up for inspection.

Carmen shifted beside me as she eyed my ramrod straight erection. "I'm not sure it's possible for that thing to actually get any harder."

Amy bit her lip playfully, smiling. "Do you like having topless women around you while you play with yourself?"

"Well, I wouldn't know about having women AROUND me, you're all the way over there..."

The blonde actress laughed at my clumsy attempt to get her in bed, but walked over anyway and climbed on top of me. My straining cock rested just outside the triangular patch of underwear just covering her pussy. I stared up at her pendulous breasts as she straddled me, with that self-confident smirk of hers knowing that I was wholly in her thrall. "How about now?" she purred.

Carmen punched her fellow actress playfully on the arm. "Ames, stop torturing the poor man!"

"If this is torture, I'm headed to freakin' Guantanamo!" I said.

Amy laughed, and leaned down to kiss me. She was a slow, sensual kisser. When we locked lips she seemed to breathe in hard and suck the air out of me - but perhaps that was just me having the breath knocked out of me by my long time fantasy crush. She pressed her full body up against mine, and my hands wandered down to the small of her back and then down to her incredible ass. I nudged her to slowly start rubbing her pussy on my cock, and soon I felt her reaching down, pushing aside her thong and guiding my member slowly into her pussy with every grind.