Baywatch Secrets Ch 10 Albas Angle

8000 words. Tags: baywatch, victoria's secret, Rachel Cook, Stacy Kamano, Jessica Alba, Alessandra Ambrosio, Jasmine Tookes, Mile-high club, Melissa Benoist

This chapter has benefited greatly from extensive revisions by my editor Nick. In particular, anything funny in the dialogue, we have him to thank for it! Also new, I will be posting links in the comments to share some of the outfits and situations I have come across in my research.

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This is the tenth 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 second in a mini trilogy covering the filming of the series' pilot episode. Outfits and references are based on real life look-books and clips.

Principal photography has wrapped in LA and it is time to head to the Hawaii location to shoot the training sequences. Emotions are running high after a high profile Internet hacking, and both Baywatch and Victoria's Secret are circling around ready to pounce on any weakness... All in all, a pretty bad time to have personal life distractions, wouldn't you say?

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Man, the days when I mentally kick myself in the butt for pissing away my youth and fading into TV has-been obscurity. The days when I watch Jason Momoa ham it up on Game of Thrones with that dumb-ass, fucked-up beard, and wonder, what if? Too many to count.

This, however, was not one of those days.

"Who else?"

That's Michael Lombardo, by the way. Head of Programming at HBO, you'll recall and not the kind of guy to thump tables and break phones when he gets mad. No, this guy gets quieter. Which is way fucking scarier. In fact, as my co-producer Jason and I stood before him in his minimalist office, he seemed to project a force field of chilly silence. You could -hear- your own heart beating.

After about five hours (possibly minutes), Jason shot me a lightening glance and ventured to Lombardo: "I've checked around, it seems nobody's recognized Mike from the videos yet."

Remembering our game plan, I shook myself and pointedly returned Lombardo's basilisk glare. "And the news cycle's moved on to the other hacks now, anyway. Who's going to care about ID-ing me with nudes of Jennifer Lawrence and Kate Upton dropping in every corner of the net?" The unauthorized release of the private videos of the Victoria's Secret Angels had thankfully been overshadowed by the hacking of bigger celebrities. It was still newsworthy in itself and something I needed to get to the bottom of, but now I had time.

"That wasn't the question I asked, Mr. Bergin. DId you not hear the question I asked?"

I shrugged. "Look, I can't tell you what I don't know. Someone had access to-"

"Oh, you think? You've worked it all out? Someone had access to things they shouldn't have? Maybe I should fire my head of cyber-security, put you in charge. Now try again. Who. Else?"

What he was asking finally dawned on me. I gave a sidelong look at Jason and cleared my throat. "Ah. That. I... uh... I got to know a lot of the Angels in St. Barts. If you're asking who else on the cast might be at risk... it's Romee, Martha, and Ale. But never on film!"

"God fucking dammit!" Lombardo snapped.

Jason raised an eyebrow approvingly, and his reaction to my list of conquests was as wordless as it was approving, as if to say, "Bro." I shrugged my shoulders ever so slightly in response. The facts were the facts.

"Why can't you straight men keep it in your pants? We're already having enough trouble with the VS legal team trying to claw back their girls and then you drop this steaming pile of shit on my desk."

Jason stepped in to help out. "To be fair, Mr Lombardo, the tapes have very little to do with the actual show itself. I mean, you only see Jasmine and Elsa performing oral sex on Mike and we pretty much did just that in the series pilot with Ale and Carmen. Miranda? Well, she wasn't even an Angel at the time. And the campfire orgy - that was a year before Mike even got on the scene."

Lombardo visibly relaxed. "You guys are real pieces of work, you know that? We let Mike off the hook because he wasn't banging the supermodels in the back of the limo, he was only getting his cock sucked?"

"Oh, I think he probably did bang them as well, just that bit doesn't seem to be on camera" said Jason.

"Thanks, man" I said "remind me not to hire you as defence counsel."

Lombardo had had enough, though. "Believe me when I say, I really don't care one way or the other anymore. I'll get a professional to deal with it. You, gentlemen, need to tone down the fraternization with the talent, though. This we survive. Maybe. But No Fucking More."

Jason looked back and forth between me and Lombardo before realizing he was now the center of attention. He put his hands up in mock protest. "Don't look at me, I'm not the one dating my co-star!."

That comment stung a little, though it was meant to be light-hearted. We weren't dating. It was... complicated. Had always been, but now more than ever. "So, about that - things with Stacy are a little rocky right now. She wants to be an EP."

"She does? Have you seen her IMDB? You'd have thought she'd be grateful just to get back in front of the camera again. Why don't we just go ahead and make every fucking cast member an EP?"

"Well it was her idea..."

Lombardo snorted dismissively. "Ideas are worth shit in this industry. The original Baywatch was a piece of rotting driftwood before Hasselhoff took over."

"But she's getting pretty insistent on it, even to me." Jason pointed out. "Could be more trouble than it's worth."

"She still going to Oahu with you?" said Lombardo.

We nodded.

"Then we'll talk about it once you guys get back. And do me a favor - try not to fuck your guest star?"

I blinked. "Guest star?"

Jason perked up in excitement. "No way. Duncan came through?"

"IN Talent finally found someone to tie you in to this DC Universe thing. You can thank them for saving your sorry asses." Lombardo buzzed the intercom. "You can come in now."

The door swung open. I looked her up and down from her sheer red boots to her stockinged legs, her short skirt as red as her flowing cape, cinched effortlessly at her petite waist by a stylized gold belt, leading into a glossy ultramarine spandex top crested with an unmistakable red 'S'.

"I hear there's a job for Supergirl?" Melissa Benoist grinned.

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< Messages________ MK_______Details

____________Sunday 12:02 AM

____M. I just heard. How did this happen?

____________Tuesday 10:15 AM

_____M. Who had access to your GoPro?

____________Yesterday 3:48 PM

_____Miranda, call me when you see this

________________I'm heading to Hawaii

______________________We need to talk

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One of the perks of bringing a whole cast on location for your own show is you get your own flight. Although we were on a shoestring, it just made economic sense. My Uber practically pulled right up to the tarmac at Van Nuys, and a grinning Jason Knight opened the door. He was accompanied by a gorgeous brunette who dazzled in the Californian sunshine, barely dressed in a simple black crop top that at both showed off her toned midriff and hung off her full breasts. There was a mysterious, distant look in her eyes as she looked at me, as though she saw right through me.

"I'm late, man, I know" I apologized, giving Jason a fraternal half-hug, "Next time I want a driver that's actually like been to LA at least one before."

"Just in time. We were about to cut our losses and promote Stacy in your absence." Jason joked as he helped me with my luggage.

I kept stealing glances at the brunette, noticing her beautiful blue eyes. "And who is this lovely beauty? Are you really with Jason? Blink twice if you are here against your will."

She laughed adorably, and Jason punched my arm in jest. "Careful Mike, I've seen how you are with women..."

"Ignore him" said the brunette "I'm Rachel. Rachel Cook."

"Well, hello, Rachel-Rachel Cook," I joked, "You're joining us for this little jaunt?"

"I couldn't say no to a week in Oahu, could I Mike? And with a whole island riddled with hot swimsuit clad women, I better keep an eye on him!"

"And now half the male crew, the straight half, can't keep their eyes off you." Jason put a possessive arm around her waist, and pulled her in for a kiss. "Alright, everyone's already on the plane. Time to get wheels up."

Jason led the way, and I followed Rachel's denim-clad ass up the foldaway ladder. Her top slid up as she stood on tiptoe and put my bag in the overhead compartment, showing off her toned midriff and teasing her impossibly perky breasts.

Noticing me practically drooling at his girlfriend, Jason whacked the back of my head. "Isn't it time for wheels up?"

Rachel paused. "Hang on... Shouldn't we wait for the pilot?"

I winked at her. "Reporting for duty."

"You're the pilot???" Rachel's jaw dropped.

Jason chuckled as he helped her shove the bin - and her jaw - shut. "Our showrunner is a man of many talents."

"Is it too late to get another flight?" said Rachel, grinning.

"Hey man, what's the hold-up? Let's get this show on the road!" Michael B. Jordan (who, fortunately for the rest of us on set, did not also go by "Mike") sat at the rear end of the plane, waving a glass of champagne. Romee Strijd, Richard Madden, and Stella Maxwell, in the seats beside and across from him, cheered with their own drinks.

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome aboard Baywatch Secrets Airlines," I announced.

The younger actors were clearly going to keep the flight lively. The various other cast members filled the rest of the plane, packed tightly. Alessandra winked at me from an aisle seat, then turned to resume her conversation with Jasmine Tookes. I spotted Stacy chatting with Taylor Lautner, avoiding eye contact with me. Rachel took her aisle seat near the front, next to a slightly pale looking Melissa Benoist, this time in regular clothes.

"Are you sure you can fly this thing? Do we have insurance if we go down somewhere in the Pacific Ocean?" Lily Aldridge called out, half grinning as she made a show of pulling her seatbelt extra tight. Next to her, Brande Roderick did the same. The effect it had on accentuating both women's chests was not unappreciated.

I chuckled as I completed sealing and locking the door. "You're insured for everything, Lilly. Except me hiring less sarcastic models. Now who's ready to go to Hawaii?"

The passenger cabin erupted in loud whoops and foot-stomps. Jason and I made our way to the cockpit, where I guided him through pre-flight checks. Soon enough, we were taxiing and I felt the familiar pinch in my stomach as the ground fell away from us and Baywatch Secrets took to the skies.

"Damn, that's gotta be one of the fucking coolest things I've ever done!" Jason said, marvelling at the glittering southern California coast in the starboard window. "Thanks, man."

"Thanks for what?"

"You know, for letting me fly co-pilot."

"Anytime, Jace." Frankly I'd done all the work myself, but it was good to have some company in the cockpit and Jason had been an eager learner. I set the course and flicked on the autopilot.

"That thing that Lily said about insurance... " I said, turning to Jason "We are all insured in this plane, right?"

"I have no absolutely no idea, Mike."

"Seriously? This is fucking for real man, if we're not covered we could be in some serious shit here. You're really telling me..."

Jason cut me off, laughing. "Mike, don't sweat it. I'm only kidding with you. Course we're insured, man. What do I always tell you, Jason's got it covered."

"Okay, sorry. I just... Jason's got it covered."

"You'd better believe it."

"I do, I do and I really appreciate it. You've been great, man. You've been all over this and got a crew and a cast, yada, yada, yada..."

"I've got your back, buddy. We just need to get this pilot off the ground now."

"Somehow I feel like we already have - no pun intended."

Loud crashes came from the cockpit, followed by raucous laughter. Jason mock sighed. "Looks like the party's really getting going back there. I better go check on Rachel."

"Tell them to pace it out will ya? There's still five and half hours of flight time left and I can't exactly make a pit stop in the middle of the Pacific Ocean."

Jason left, and I settled into the quiet serenity of infinite azure.

I wiggled my fingers on the controls. The plane was an extension of my body. Every gust of wind, I felt in my arms. When I scanned to my right along the coastline, the horizon tilted ever so slightly.

Showbusiness was hard: Hits and misses depended upon the roll of the dice. Real estate was really a function of who you knew and the macroeconomy, none of which I could particularly control.

But flying? Flying was physics. I had a private pilot's license. It said I knew what I was doing.

A timid knock on the cabin door jolted me out of my reverie. I got up and opened it, revealing Melissa standing in the doorway, plainly dressed in a casual button down shirt and jeans.

"Hey you, everything ok?"

Melissa smiled weakly. "I had to make room for Jason. You accepting visitors?"

"Only ones with superpowers," I joked, motioning to the co-pilot seat.

Melissa didn't even make it there. Instead, she grabbed my arm to steady herself. "Oh my god, the view's just...breathtaking!"

As she took in the sights, her eyes widening, her grip on my arm tightened dramatically.

"Ouch, Melissa!" I pried her off my arm, but she latched on to my hand instead and refused to let go. "That's a superhuman grip you have there."

"What did you expect?," she said, smiling ever so slightly, "I get a little vertigo every time I see clouds beneath my feet."

"Wait, what? Let me get this straight... -You're telling me Supergirl's afraid of flying?" I said incredulously.

Melissa joined my ironic laughter. "I know. I freaked the fuck out when they made me do wire work on the show and I had a cushion under me the whole time!"

"Maybe it would be safer if you headed back to your seat, then-" Melissa shook her head vigorously, and I shut up.

"No way. Aversion therapy, Mike, that's what I need. Can you show me how to fly? Take my mind off falling?"

I obliged, sitting back down in the pilot seat and shrugged. "Why not? Ok, so you see here? This is the yoke. Controls pitch and roll of the plane." I made the hand signs every PPL student learns to illustrate the three dimensional concept. "And it's attached to the yoke wheel, which changes the roll axis. These controls are linked to the elevators, rudders, and ailerons behind us, which we call control surfaces. You with me so far?"

Melissa brushed her hair behind an ear. "I think I need a more hands on lesson." Without warning, she stepped forward and lithely squeezed her small frame onto my lap. She turned to look at me, and her lips hovered tantalizingly close to mine as she whispered, "Can you tell me what to do now?"

Between feeling her small, firm ass on my crotch and inhaling her intoxicating, innocent scent, I fought to contain a sudden erection. "So, I'm a little confused as to what's happening here? Aren't you married, Melissa...?"

Melissa chuckled. "Ever since I caught him having a threesome with Naya and Dianna, Blake and I have had... an understanding."

I took a second to realize she was talking about her Glee costars. Jeez, I thought to myself. How many celebs have open marriages? Was this what life offscreen was really like? "Can I just say you smell incredible, by the way." I was changing the subject, but she did.

"Aww, thanks!" The temptress on my lap leaned in to kiss me. "It's a special edition Maui Fantasy."

I fought through my confusion from the kiss. "Wait... the Britney Spears perfume?"

Melissa nodded. "Duncan introduced me to her. She's become a mentor of mine... with some benefits." She winked, and my imagination went wild. "You know, it's getting a little tight in here, maybe I'm wearing too much. Just one sec-" Melissa unbuttoned and stripped down her jeans, mooning me with her sexy ass, barely covered by a skimpy purple Victoria's Secret thong. She sat back down on me just as my erection hardened.

"Mmm, feels much better. So, you were showing me these control surfaces?"

I took her hands and placed them on the yoke. Our fingers intertwined just a split second too long. "The plane's on autopilot, so don't worry about rolling us over, but you can still pitch us up and down if you just move it slowly." I let her hands go as she took us on a slight ascent.

"Ahhh this is so fun!" Melissa squealed, her fear of flying forgotten as she learned to fly for real. I made her bring the yoke up to level off the plane, then took her right hand to the power levers. I could feel her grinding gently against my pants. Naughty girl.

"This controls thrust, which generates lift for the plane and makes us actually fly. Pushing it forward opens the cock switches which feeds more fuel directly into the turboprops." I pushed her hand as she gripped the levers tightly, and the background hum of the engines intensified.

"So what you're saying is, I push this to turn on the cock and thrust harder?" Melissa clearly didn't have flying on her mind. She shifted, and her left hand snaked down to unzip my pants.

I kissed her neck as she gently tugged on my cock through my boxer briefs. "You'd make a terrible pilot, you know that?"

The half-dressed vixen on my lap moaned and leaned back against me as she freed my raging erection. "The girls told me you had a big joystick to match your biceps, I had to see for myself."

"So you decided to seduce me while I'm operating extremely sensitive flight equipment?"

Melissa paused, her rumpled blonde hair falling over the confident half grin on her face. "Is it working?"

Yes. Fuck, yes.

All my worries about the sex tapes, my constant back and forth between Gigi and Stacy, my concern for Candice and Behati back home, the constant feeling of not knowing what I was doing producing a potential hit HBO show, all of it melted away. The only thing that mattered was this gorgeous thing in my arms with her perfect smile and superhero body.

"You have no idea," I murmured into her ear.

My tormentor took my hand off the throttle and placed it across her chest. Her heartbeat jackhammered rapidly through layers of skin and cloth. "What do you want to do to me?" she gasped breathlessly.

There were no more words to be said. I attacked her neck, kissing and licking and biting, while my hands worked rapidly to undo the buttons of her top. Melissa moaned again as I slid her shirt off her shoulders and threw it behind us, leaving her dressed only in her matching purple bra and thong set. My hands roamed wild over this new territory, stroking her taut stomach and massaging her petite breasts, while she craned her neck back to me and returned my kisses with a passionate ferocity of a horny teenager.

I found myself slipping a finger, then another, down her panty line. "I'm not the only one who can push buttons around here," I proclaimed, and plunged my fingers into Melissa's wetness. "Looks like you're the one who can... *be moist*."

She rolled her eyes even as she thrust herself on my digits. "Idiot... You know I get that joke like once a day, right?"

I rolled my palm against her G-spot and watched a wave of pleasure roll across her face. "You're going to have to change your name to "Bedrenched" once I'm done with you."

Melissa giggled and squeezed my cock. I didn't quite mind. "Are we a mile up?" She asked, innocently.

I checked the altimeter. "Try eight."