5000 words. Tags: baywatch, victoria's secret, Carmen Electra, Alessandra Ambrosio, Stacy Kamano, Gigi Hadid, Brande Roderick, double blowjob, trailer sex, Hollywood
This chapter has benefited greatly from editing by my "picador", Nick. Apologies for the long absence as life got in the way.
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This is the ninth 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 first in a mini trilogy covering the filming of the series' pilot episode. Outfits and references are based on real life look-books and clips.
A month has passed since the epic showdown; Victoria's Secret was forced to close their Swim business, and with all the key players lined up the Baywatch Secrets pilot episode has begun shooting. Things are looking up for our hero...
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Carmen Electra slowly and sensuously trailed a serious of tender kisses along Alessandra Ambrosio's delicate neck, stopping only when she reached the Brazilian supermodel's rich, painted lips. Ale's eyes were fixed firmly shut, but she still somehow knew exactly when to dip her head and reciprocate Carmen's affections. As the two women's tongues danced together in a wickedly luxurious French kiss, Carmen traced her hands down Ale, from her long straight hair pulled back in a tight ponytail, to the iconic red swimsuit straps on her shoulders. Alessandra shuddered, but didn't resist as Carmen gently slid both straps down, and even began to clumsily respond by fumbling around with the buttons on Carmen's unfamiliar uniform. As Ale's swimsuit dropped down to her waist, exposing her bronze, tanned breasts, Carmen sunk to her knees and attacked Ale's engorged nipples with her expert tongue.
Just as Ale gasped at the warm, wet, welcome, I cleared my throat.
The sapphic pairing glanced over at me, and laughed. I was slumped in a black, leather, executive swivel chair, both sitting down and standing fully to attention at the same time. Carmen unzipped her ridiculously short skirt and crawled over to me, eyefucking the hell out of me as she did so. Through my red shorts, she gently nuzzled my erection with her sculpted - plastically? - nose, then tilted her head at Alessandra, as if to compel her to do the same. With a trancelike expression, Ale rose to her feet, and skillfully eased her swimsuit from her body to the floor, the accented 'a' logo faintly visible on the inside of the fabric.
I barely had time to appreciate the full splendor of Ale's full frontal before she was on her knees next to Carmen, clawing down the lining of my shorts. I had tucked my cock up in my waistband so, when released it sprung out like the arm of a catapult and hit Carmen in that perfect nose. Carmen wrapped a slender hand around the base of my shaft, pulling back the foreskin just a fraction. I moaned as the dirty blonde sex bomb took the head of my cock into her inviting mouth, and then popped me out and motioned for Ale to follow suit. Ale followed the script to the letter and more, wrapping her lips around my cock and swirling her dainty tongue around the sensitive head, causing me to shudder. Carmen, meanwhile, went to town on my lucky shaft, coating every inch of it in a warm jacket of celebrity saliva, staring up at me with her electric blue eyes as she diligently worked me over. And when Carmen eventually concentrated her lewd endeavors on the left hand side of my shaft, Ale slurped off me loudly and joined her on the other side. I groaned as the talented pair synced up their rhythms, their lips and tongues sliding up and down the entire length of my shaft, effectively jerking me off. On my left, one of the most iconic Baywatch stars. On my right, the longest serving Victoria's Secret Angel. A perfect representation of the project that had now taken over my work life (and sex life).
Thankfully, on a scale of 1 to 10, I was probably at an 11 in terms of horniness this time. I was eventually tipped over the edge when Carmen started jerking me off and Ale took my heavy balls into her mouth and began teasingly rolling them around on her tongue. I bucked my hips and gasped as thick ropes of semen shot all over Carmen's face, breasts and uniform for what seemed like hours. My balls must have shriveled up with all the fucking I had been doing for this, but I pumped out everything I could.
"Fuck me, before today, I never imagined I would be cumming on my new boss' face," I panted.
Carmen grinned, and drew Ale into a deep, luxurious kiss. Fresh semen, streamed from Carmen's mouth into Ale's as they sloppily made out, creamy stalactites of sperm clinging to each girls' chins and slowly drip-dripping onto their firm breasts.
"Well, Captain Darius, if you're initiating all your lieutenants this way, I might have to make the trip down from HQ way more often." said Carmen as Ale idly twisted lone traces of sperm around her delicate fingers and scooped them into her mouth like a bear tucking into honey.
"CUT! PRINT!" Jeremy Podeswa's voice broke our scene, and the studio lights went on. The background rumble of the skeleton crew, muted for the shooting, resumed in earnest as assistants rolled back the cameras and the script supervisor scribbled hurriedly in her notes. I tucked my cock back in and helped Ale and Carmen up as the grinning director came over with fresh towels for the girls.
"How was it? Do we need another take?" Ale asked anxiously, as she wrapped herself up.
"Ladies and gentlemen, take a bow, I think we just made TV history," said Jeremy. His hand swung as though to high-five mine, but rapidly thought better of it and settled for gingerly patting me on the back instead. "People are going to forget that Daddario girl was even in True Detective."
"Were the people at Vinyl -really- planning that for Season 2?" Carmen asked him, toweling globlets of fast drying semen out of her hair.
Jeremy shrugged. "Let's just say HBO is much happier that you agreed to do the first blowjob in TV history for the pilot of Baywatch Secrets. And personally I'd much rather be working with you in this than coaxing some kind of performance out of Olivia to push up a bunch of lame ratings. -This- is the Emmy show, darlin'."
Carmen nodded, her Hollywood legacy very much on her mind. Ale shook her out of it. "Let's hit the showers... Commander!"
As the ladies headed off, Jeremy and I were joined by Neil Strauss. The writer had had to sit out the whole thing. "Just for the record," he said, "I'm still pissed IN Talent insisted on a skeleton crew for this. It's not like Alessandra's never done nudity before!"
I chuckled. "Seriously, man? Nudity's one thing, but she's just had my cock stuffed down her throat and can probably still taste my cum in her mouth. That's pretty fucking extreme. 'Sides, I feel like that protection was for me more than anything else."
"Like you have anything to be shy about?" Neil waved an arm at the ebbing hard-on in my shorts. "Anyway, I should be a part of the skeleton crew, right? I wrote the damn thing!"
Jeremy, ever the professional, stepped in to calm him down. "You've seen plenty in your day, Neil. Anyway it was a helluva cold open, best I've ever done for sure."
"Guys?" Jason Knight was waving at us from the entrance of the set. I'd found him so helpful in the past few months that I'd gotten HBO to promote him to executive producer alongside me. "You gonna argue all fucking afternoon? Get to the sweatbox, first dailies are done. Wanna see the opening credits?"
We crowded into the tiny edit suite affectionately referred to as the "sweatbox", due to the banks of screens and computers that worked up waves of heat, which the meagre air conditioning was woefully underprepared for. Our editor and sound guy gave us weak, sweaty smiles as Neil closed the door behind him and darkened the room.
"Roll it." Jason said. Technically, cutting together the dailies was the director's job, but Jason had begged to make a first draft of the opening credits for the team he and I had meticulously cast.
"SOME PEOPLE STA-AND IN THE DARKNESS..." The iconic Baywatch theme song cranked up, and macro shots of the beach and babes flashed on the screen before settling on the male cast. I cringed as I spotted myself striding beside the -much- younger, and ripped lifeguards played by Michael B. Jordan, Taylor Lautner, and Richard Madden. I felt like a firm mat of chest hair was required to play male Baywatch Captains, and I was no David Hasselhoff.
"We're really going with the old theme?" Jeremy asked Jason. "I thought there were issues with that?"
The question went unanswered and we stopped caring as the credits began to introduce the female cast, starting with Brande and Stacy as Leigh Dyer and Kekoa Tanaka from the old show, then moving to Ale and Lily as my Lieutenants, and then to Stella, Romee, Martha, and Jasmine as the remainder of Orange County Lifeguard Service. We would have plenty of guest stars like Carmen Electra and Bar Rafaeli on the show but I was glad that our series regulars were a collection of some of the finest looking women on Earth.
Neil whistled. "I gotta say... with talent like that, it makes it so much easier to get the juices flowing. Writing-wise, I mean." Our editor, characteristically mute, nodded in agreement. I was sure he'd had worse jobs than looking at swimsuit-clad supermodels all day.
We had just finished reviewing the slow-mo run footage when the door to the sweatbox slammed open, revealing the familiar silhouette of a short, busty Asian woman in a crop top and jeans. "So someone said you were running the dailies and didn't invite the talent?"
