Posted: July 2004
Title: Coincidence
Author: Helena Snow-Renn
Type: RPHet
Characters: Karl Urban/OFC's (Catherine and Nicola)
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Very LONG story. (long, hard, and wet) Het, a little girl-on-girl, language, PWP, really graphic smut. This author does not think it wise to have unprotected sex this day in age, but these people have done so.
Beta: Miranda Bell, and further assistance by Dominique
Disclaimer: As always, this is fiction. It never happened.
Summary: A beach, two girls, Karl, and sex!
Notes: According to what I've been told, "sex" as New Zealanders pronounce it sounds like "six" to Aussie ears, and "six" in N.Z. pronunciation sounds like "sux." Wordplay ahead, be aware. Also, I've toned it down for easier reading, but one girl has a heavy French-Canadian accent. They have a tendency to drop their "h" at the beginning of words.
Bunnies: 1) Miranda wanted this. She begged so nicely, she got it. Her suggestions were very definite. Thank her. I just wrote the connecting words. 2) A series of pictures of Karl and Miranda Otto on the Daily Show where he looked rather *aroused.* 3) An amalgam of this:
http://wetmen.provocateuse.com/show.php/karl_urban

*****

Armed with degrees and a year's worth of work experience under their belts, Catherine and Nicola were ready to take their first ‘real' vacation. All year they'd been saving up, pooling money. Absolutely, they had a plan. The women, one fine Aussie chick and one naturalized, were partial to a certain actor from a certain neighboring pair of islands. Along with various other activities, including the inevitability of them biting the bullet and going to see Hobbiton, Rivendell, and all the other now-dismantled sites for their own eyes, they would be indirectly, haphazardly, unintentionally looking for him. Or so they told themselves.

If ever there were two girls who were closer friends, the world might never have seen fit to tell of them. Catherine and Nicola met five years before during their first week of university in Sydney. They hit it off so quickly they soon were finishing each other's thoughts and sentences like identical twins or an old, long-married couple. They were both lovely creatures, long past any adolescent gawkiness. Neither could be termed the ‘quiet' one or the ‘smart' one or the ‘funny' one. These were attributes they both possessed.

The girls looked nothing alike. Three generations ago, Catherine's family had been Anglo-Saxon Brit on one side, Scottish on the other, though her features were more of the Celtic cast. She inherited height from both sides. Her soft, wavy hair was not quite red, more auburn, but she considered herself a redhead. Pure green emerald eyes sparkled with easy-going humor.

By contrast, Nicola was barely over five feet tall. She'd grown up in Quebec and had not lost the accent. Her hip-length brown hair contained red, gold and silvery highlights. She had the large, piercing hazel eyes of many mixed French/Native Americans. Like them, she exuded a certain wildness. No one would ever put her in a cage.

Nicola always said she'd seen him first. Maybe that was true, but neither girl had given him any deep thought years ago as bleach-blond Cupid. Cute, but a passing thing. However, when the familiar face appeared in their favorite fantasy film series, volume two, that was it.

They saw him first on the plains of Rohan, hauling his mortally wounded cousin home on horseback. "Karl." They'd breathed simultaneously. The women had had to hold hands throughout the whole Rohan sequence. Cathy recalled wondering if her fingers would be broken as an arrogant, wary Éomer demanded, "What business do an elf, a man, and a dwarf have in the Riddermark?" Well they remembered the manly armor, the easy way he sat a horse, the long Nordic locks, and especially the intense dark eyes that undressed the world with every glance. Sure, they knew those eyes were hazel, but on screen they appeared a deep brown-black like pools of warm, liquid tar. Oh, to just fall in!

Their jet circled and veered east. Catherine, who had never flown before, let out her breath and asked, "You think we'll run into him?"

Not having to ask who ‘him' was, Nicola answered, "Would be a major coincidence if we did. The islands aren't that small. Well, we can ‘ope, eh?"

"And pray…" Catherine added.

"Famous last words, atheist," said the Canadian native.

"I don't think they'd be my last words at all," Catherine said with a wink. "If you could call, ‘Oh god, oh Christ, oh fucking hell' words." Luckily, she had used a good enough sotto voce she was not overheard in their cramped quarters, "And I don't think that counts as prayer, either."

On their third day of sight-seeing and shopping, Nicola got wind of a local beach that was said to be worth going out of the way for. Hearsay was correct. The best friends surfed from early afternoon till the sun set blood-red over the ocean. Nicola's honey brown skin had slowly glazed to deeper shades. The little shack where they'd rented their boards was just about to close when they returned them.

When the beach cleared and they were at last alone, Nicola shucked her aqua bikini top and freed large, dark-tipped breasts. Tall, milky-skinned Catherine had seen her friend naked a hundred times but the woman's perfection never failed to amaze her. Nicola, for all that she was totally oblivious to it, had a body made for sex, with her generous breasts and the sleek little hips that at the moment she was rolling her bottoms down over. Catherine felt she was rather upside down by comparison; in other words small, neatly-formed breasts, and a generously proportioned bum. She shook her head, calling herself silly, and hooted over to her butt-naked best friend, "Nice rack! Don't scare off the wildlife!" Nicola squeezed her own boobs in Catherine's general direction and traipsed down to the waterline.

"Ah, the wildlife," Cathy mused. She and Nic had had their days. Darkness fell as Cathy sat, quietly reminiscing over her raunchier exploits, wrapped in a light blanket, on a large flat-topped boulder. She watched Nic piling sand into a messy fortress. The girl was so child-like sometimes. After nearly half an hour, she climbed back down and selected three burn CD's as soundtrack for the evening. She felt an odd tension, almost like she'd committed some minor infraction and was about to be confronted about it. The dark trance techno she'd chosen, if it worked like it usually did, would help her relax.

The last light breathed its farewell to Nicola as she returned to their impromptu campsite. They'd hiked in with a sleeping bag each, a medium-sized cooler, the CD player, and whatever odds and ends fit into compact day-camp packs. Catherine unrolled a light tarp and was securing the edges with more rocks. "Hey," she greeted her friend. "This should help with the ‘sand-in-embarrassing-places' problem."

The French-Canadian grinned. "I'll get ze fire going."

Soon a campfire lit the night and the girls snuggled down on their sleeping bags to watch it. This was one of their rituals, fire-watching. There wasn't a breath of wind; they weren't cold. It was just them and the flames, the sand, and the ocean.

"So, do you think zhere is a god?" Nicola opened their years-long debate after some time.

Catherine watched the crackling flames. She had not changed her position on the subject. Now that she had new ammo, she was going to use it. "If there were a god, he'd give me Karl." She cackled evilly.

"No, I'm supposed to get 'im," Nicola stated, getting up suddenly. She crossed to the cooler and squatted down, still stark naked, to grab fresh beers for them. Catherine couldn't help but admire the view. "We could share though," the first girl went on after a minute.

"Share Karl?" Catherine wondered aloud. "How do you share a man? He's only got one prick."

"Yes, but he's also got two ‘ands, a mouth, and a bum. Surely we could find a way." The fire picked up golden glints in her eyes, which studied the red-headed girl for some dissent.

Catherine's peaches-and-cream complexion glowed like an infrared light bulb, even in relative darkness. In Catherine's opinion, even though she hadn't done anything too non-standard, her friend had an untapped kinky side. Once in a while, like this, it would slip out in some offhand remark. Deep down, she enjoyed it, but it still made the Aussie blush. "Well, dibs on his mouth," she said.

"Good!" Nicola retorted. "I get ze best for myself!"

"You're such a pig! There's more to a man than his ‘parts.'"

"Yeah, well, like it's gonna ‘appen anyway, n'est-ce pas?" Nicola had a point.

"What if it did? We're here… if he walked up to you in the street, would you turn in him down?"

"Oh, no. ‘Ell no! I definitely would not turn ‘im down."

"Turn who down?"

At the very edge of the light, just barely limned in the orange-red flickers, stood the owner of the low voice. The large, masculine form could've been there for a second or an hour, so quiet had he been. Nicola gasped in surprise and at her nude state but to her credit did nothing more than rise slowly to her feet and ask the stranger, "Wanna beer?" For her part, Catherine simply stared in disbelief. The details became clearer with every unhurried step he took in the girls' direction. His identity was unmistakable. How or why, she would have to find out; otherwise, Catherine's tidy mind answered itself, "This man, here, now, is Karl."

He presented himself with dark brown hair to his shoulders, a neatly trimmed beard, a deep tan set off by all-white clothes. He wore form-fitting button fly jeans and a short-sleeved shirt open all down the front. Catherine's seat put her at eye level with his navel, which did look mysterious in the middle of a patch of belly hair above those low-slung jeans. Fire threw unsteady patterns off his smooth chest. Half the shirt was open enough for Catherine to see one dark, flat nipple set on a subtly sculpted pec. She slowly raised her eyes to his face, almost as if to double-check herself. No, it was unquestionably Karl. He took the bottle from a slightly shaky Nicola and raised it to full, bee-stung looking dusky pink lips. Almond-shaped hazel eyes fringed by thick lashes flashed with amber highlights around their small campsite. Karl jumped slightly as he realized for the first time there was a second woman, one whose eyes were glued unwaveringly to him. "Oh!" he exclaimed. "Two of you!"

This put Catherine at an advantage she refused to let slip through her fingers. Remaining perfectly still, she locked her bright green stare into Karl's. "Well, of course there's two of us. Who did you think she was talking to—herself?"

"I couldn't hear you speaking over DJ Micro, here. I thought she was on a cell."

"Nope," Nicola put in. "She's live." Both girls were impressed he'd heard of their favorite rave artist.

"That's right, and I'm not nearly as naked as my impulsive friend over there. Who are you and what do you want?" It took every measure of self-control she possessed not to goggle at him or drool or something equally undignified. Nicola, on the other hand, had backed up two steps and literally dropped her jaw. Her huge jade-and-gravel eyes, so like Karl's in that regard they could be siblings, widened and darted back and forth between the seated girl and beautiful young man. The hand not occupied with beer gesticulated near-frantically. Catherine took her meaning loud and clear.

"Well, my name's Karl… Karl Urban. I was just out for a walk. I was surfing earlier up the beach a couple miles…" he threw out one corded arm in the general direction of behind himself, to Catherine's right,"…and it got dark before I knew it. I was about to turn back, even though I have no idea where I'm parked, when I saw a light, which happened to be your fire."

"It is dark tonight," Nicola managed, in a hopeful tone.

"No moon," Karl seconded.

"Yeah," Catherine said dryly," except Nicola's, which happens to be a full moon, eh?" She'd picked up the sarcastic use of "eh" from her friend over the years.

Karl tipped the bottle up and took a long swig. Nicola looked at Catherine. She tilted her head slightly, eyebrows raised and a terribly ‘significant' look over her features. Catherine gave her a quick nod and raised her own bottle before Karl saw this exchange, or so she hoped.

"So…." Karl's' voice rumbled softly. "She's Nicola and you are…?"

Dazed, dazzled, horned-up stupid… "Catherine."

"Cathy? Or Catherine?"

"Either is fine." Call me whatever you want, baby.

"You don't have any more friends lurking out there in the dark, do you?" he asked.

"No, there's just us. Why? Should we be scared now?" Cathy asked in what she hoped was a bold voice.

"Should I be?" Karl countered. "I wouldn't want to be set upon and ripped to shreds by six angry women or something." He sat down near the firepit, opposite the girls.

"Sux angry women?" Nicola giggled. Catherine elbowed her. "He sucks angry women…? Or they suck him?"

"Nic!" The Aussie smacked the smaller girl on her upper arm. "Shut up! It's his accent. He said ‘six.'"

"I don't have an accent," Karl smirked. "You have an accent. And so no, I've never had sex, or ‘sux,' with six angry women."

"Oooh!" Nicola hooted, before Catherine could stop her. "You never ‘ad six either? You poooor man! You're deprived. Mon dieu! Well, Catherine is the expert at sux, or so I've ‘eard…"

The Aussie woman threw in the towel with being semi-proper. Karl's eyes turned to her, interestedly. Warmth ignited in her mid-section and stole outwards from there. "So I've been told," she allowed. What the fuck? She'd just told a complete stranger, regardless of who he was, ‘Guess what? I give good head.' Gott in Himmel, as her grandma used to say.

Karl stood up and jammed his fists in his front pockets. "Maybe I'll take you up on that later. Right now I gotta take a piss. And I stink. Nicola, you want to take a short swim? I want to ask you something." His eyes promised much more than that.

"What, now?"

"Why not?" He turned and walked toward the ocean. "Coming?" he threw back in their direction.

"Oh, mon dieu, yeah," breathed Nicola. She was just about to follow when…

"Nicola!" Catherine laid an urgent hand on the small brown shoulder.

"What?"

"You go, but bring him back here."

"What do you mean?" Nicola was shivering, not from cold, though, and Catherine could tell she was desperate to go after Karl.

"You guys get cleaned up or whatever you gotta do, and then you get back here. I wanna see you… you know. Even if I don't get to touch him at all, I gotta see… Please, Nicola!"

"You want to watch?"

"I'll take what I can get."

Nicola laughed at her. "You're a voyeur. Wants to watch her friend get laid."

Catherine squirmed in embarrassment and Nicola in sheer arousal. "I'm going now," the Canadian girl said pointedly.

"Nic…"

"Ok, I'll see what I can do."

If she hadn't been so lethargic from the beer and her from participation in the small melodrama, Catherine would have been pacing. ‘Do you want to go for a swim, NICOLA?' What the hell was that? She was most annoyed. Not only had she been left behind, now she probably stood no chance of seeing what she wasn't getting. So much for sharing. Peeved, yes, and she almost wanted to cry, self-pity and a ridiculous sense of loss pouring from her soul. Before any real offer had been made, she's already been slapped down, or so it seemed.

Catherine sat staring into the fire, trying not to hear any betraying noises from the water. Ten minutes of this, and she had just decided to lie down and try to sleep. Who knew how long the other two would be gone? Then, to her astonishment, they reappeared. Both drenched to the skin with slicked back hair, they'd been in the water all right. Their skin gleamed with droplets as they drew nearer.

When they'd marched up to the edge of the firepit, the most amazing thing happened. Nicola circled behind Karl. She was so short, nothing of her could be seen except her lithe arms coming around Karl's sides. In time to the techno beat, one hand caressed up and down his lean stomach, down the furry line; the other went straight for the button on his tight, and now soaking wet jeans. An obvious erection swelled under his fly, slowly revealed as his other buttons came undone under Nicola's fingers. Not saying a word, she steadily worked open the wet denim, then began the task of getting the jeans off him. Near-black pubic curls rimmed the base of his cock, which stood straight out, in fact pointed a bit upwards, heavy and veiny. It was big, at least eight inches, Catherine thought from where she was sitting. Nicola's little hand gave the impression of being miniature, wrapped around the thick cylinder, stroking languidly, while Karl looked amazed at being put on display like that.

"Kneel," commanded Nicola's voice from behind Karl. He dropped to his knees in the sand, jeans still down no further than mid-thigh.

Now Nicola was revealed. She looked tiny above Karl's incredibly wide shoulders. Looking Catherine in the eye with a hint of merriment she said, "'E's on to you. Go ahead, have him. ‘E's yours." Her slim fingers curled into loose, thick hair. Nicola swayed, her lithe hips gyrating slowly, smoothly, like a sylph. Karl turned his head and rubbed his cheek against her bare skin.

"But, what about you?" Catherine asked, bewildered. Surely her insides would melt at the sight of him nuzzling into Nicola's cleavage, his slick cherry tongue dancing circles around each puffy areola.

"I'm sure there is more for me, later. I give him to you."

"Come on, you girls," Karl said in a mock-whining voice. "I'm starting to feel like a piece of meat."

"Aren't you?" Nicola asked. Karl couldn't see her face, but Catherine could. A huge shit– eating grin was plastered on it.

"No, you first, Nicola. I insist." What was she saying? This was insane. She heard herself continue, "You know I'm a firm believer in saving the best for last."

Nicola was too turned on to be insulted, or she understood there was none intended. Hardly. "Thank you so much, sweetie!"

Catherine steeled herself. She was going to have her request fulfilled, it seemed. Suddenly Karl whipped his upper body around and grabbed Nicola. In the next blink, the brown-haired girl was on her knees on the tarp with Karl looming over her, behind her, his knee forcing her thighs apart. In the firelight, Catherine could make out glistening moisture on the insides of Nicola's thighs and at the tip of Karl's cock, which appeared between them seconds later. He looked huge compared to the wild-eyed girl he was about to impale. One hand around Nicola's waist, he threw off his shirt with the other giving Catherine full view of his primal, muscular body, from solid shoulders down to bunched abs over Nicola's bent back.

A curtain of fine, water-spangled brown hair flew out to the side. Nicola twisted sideways in the same direction and looped an arm up and around Karl's neck. Her wide lips fastened to the tender spot where his shoulder and throat met. Karl captured her pointed chin in one large hand and tilted her head back, way back. Catherine's guts lurched. In the dancing orange light, suspended in a stuck moment, the two on the other side of the fire kissed zealously. Their heads moved side to side, tongues delved deep; the man's generous lips opened Nicola's mouth wider still in further exploration. The girl's slender neck arched as she strained upwards. Karl's eyes shut, rendering a perfect crescent of sable lashes on his cheeks.

"Baise-moi!" came Nic's demanding cry. She had pulled her mouth away. Catherine was well aware of how the small woman's bottom was squirming back against Karl's groin. Every wriggle and curl was one she felt in the small of her back, in the same place one feels their first rush of arousal. When Karl's eyelids snapped open, he pinned her where she sat with a deceptively innocent expression.

Then, reaching down between himself and the French-Canadian girl, he tucked his ass under and pushed. Nicola cried out hoarsely, wordlessly, her head thudding unto his chest. Karl answered with a grunt and began a steady, forceful bounce. Her small body tucked underneath his much larger powerful one, Nicola started to yip with every hard thrust. Catherine might've laughed at the noises they made if it didn't make her so fucking horny. Her own juices flowed freely from her quivering, clenching pussy; she gritted her teeth against the pain its emptiness was causing her. Two pairs of predatory, lust-glazed eyes were fixed on her. She didn't know how to meet them both, how to deal with the sight of their bodies slapping together rhythmically, of the threshing, grinding, gyrating of Karl's hips and he ripped up her friend from behind, or of the girl's distended pussy lips, stuffed full of cock, and her bouncing breasts. Catherine was on overload. If she moved, she'd cum just from watching. Karl sunk his teeth into Nicola's shoulder, still watching Catherine. The other girl shrieked. Her little barks turned to harsh, breathy squeals.

"Plus fort!" yelped the Canadian.

"Huh? What did she say?" the man wondered.

"Harder!" translated Catherine.

Karl's expression turned from quizzical to disbelieving but he slammed into Nicola with a force something like that of a full-grown buffalo. Dark strands of his hair stuck to his sweating face; the rest swayed with every back and forth movement.

"Plus vite!"

"Faster!" the Aussie supplied. The pace quickened.

"Ah…Ah! Oh, Jesu… Je jouis!" This screech needed no translation.

Nicola was screaming at the top of her lungs. Catherine had never observed her friend in the act of coming before, or any other live woman for that matter. It was as raw and earthy as anything she'd ever seen. Karl slowed and lengthened his slides, drawing it out. Nicola shook like a leaf for all that every muscle in her body was taut. She slumped forward, forehead to the ground, as her orgasm ended.

"Put it in ze oz-aire ‘ole," said her muffled voice. "I want you to come in my ass, Karl."

"Oh, shit!" the man blurted. "Oh my god…" he struggled to control his approaching climax. Lurching backwards, he pulled his whole length out of Nicola. Juices oozed down over his tight balls and hairy thighs. Clamping his right thumb and forefinger around the rampant cock, Karl took deep breaths. "You," he panted in Catherine's direction. "Get over here and help."

She was there in an instant, smoothing tangled hair back from Nicola's face, stroking her back and shoulders gently. "You alright?" she asked.

"Mmph!" Meaning ‘yes.'

Karl was asking, "You got any lube?"

"Only what you two can come up with on your own…"

"Has she done this before?" Karl asked Catherine urgently, who shrugged. "Have you?" he directed at Nicola; a light slap to her ass let her know he was asking her.

"…Oui… Non… Not for a long time…"

With a fierce look deep into Catherine eyes, Karl gave her two directives. "Keep her occupied. I need you to slick my fingers." He held out his hand.

Somewhere in the back of Catherine's mind was a sarcastic remark about all her drool coming in useful. She sucked the first two digits into her mouth, sucked hard, enjoyed the already–wide eyes opening still further when she twisted her tongue around each one in turn. "Ah, Christ!" the man moaned. "I want your mouth wrapped around my cock like that!"

Nicola snapped her head up. Karl looked down, indecision and intense want etching hollows under his cheekbones. "Later," Catherine breathed around his fingers, and she pushed all the saliva she could muster onto those phalanges. Karl smeared it onto himself and pulled Nicola's small hips roughly toward him. "Now," he said, and her eyes got very big. "I'm not moving. You're controlling this show, Nikki. Back yourself down on me and tell me when to move."

"You know just what to do," Catherine whispered, wonderingly. He half-smiled, but only for a moment. The tip of him, then more, disappeared into Nicola's back hole. They both hissed. Catherine, remembering his first instruction, bent her head down to the ground and sucked one of the other woman's bulging nipples into her lips.

"Cathy!" They had never touched each other sexually, even though the Aussie had wanted to on several occasions. Her friend's hot little sex-slavering body invited it.

"Oh, god, that's tight!" Karl's two–handed grip on Nicolas's waist tightened and he began to pull. To keep her from tensing up, Catherine switched to the other brown breast-tip, biting gently. The taste was smoky, salty, almost musky but with a lighter aftertaste than a man's. The point in Catherine's mouth puckered still harder. The girl was mewling and Karl, tense and sweating in effort to hold still. Finally, Nicola blew out her breath. "That's it, honey," Karl crooned in a bass rumble. "You're there."

"Oh!" Nicola exhaled. "You're so big…!."

A ‘who me' smile graced Karl's lush mouth for a moment, then he too went motionless, waiting for Nicola's signal. Her chest heaved. "Cathy…" she said hesitantly, like they were strangers, "will you…will you lay down under me? I want you, too." Karl groaned, shifting restlessly.

Wordlessly, Catherine did as she was asked. A thrill like a fast slide down a big hill fluttered in her belly. The prospect of new territory. She lay down and wiggled under the other girl, spreading her legs wide around Karl's widely spaced knees. Nicola's sweet mouth landed on hers like passionate rain. The girls' tongues slid together in slick, perfect kisses. Karl moaned loudly, bared his teeth and shoved into Nicola. She tore her mouth away from Catherine's and screamed.

"Oh, god… Karl…prend-moi… make it ‘urt!" The caterwauls issuing from her reverberated into Catherine. Even with her bathing suit still on, and soaked in the crotch, the heat and pressure of Nicola's pussy spread and pressed against her did surprising things to Catherine's libido. She took one of Nicola's soft, plump tits in each hand and kneaded gently. Above them both, Karl had totally lost his grip. His smoldering eyes were darting everywhere and seeing nothing, so lost in sensation was he. The man rutted into Nicola's asshole while she squealed like a bitch from the pleasure-pain. Cathy thought it almost felt like he was fucking her too, with the force of friction her hard little clit was taking from his thrusts. Only her poor aching, dripping hole bested that; her moisture continually caught in the fabric of her suit till she felt like a little girl who had wet her panties. Nicola's secretions added to her own, and Karl's hanging sac smacked wetly against them both.

She couldn't have said when, or who started it, but whatever did it turned it into a three way chain-reaction orgasm. Karl's dark, unseeing eyes turned skyward as spurting jets of cum flooded from his cock, up Nicola's ass. She wailed at the heat and the renewed slickness, fucking herself on his twitching organ whilst rubbing up against the steaming swamp of Catherine's crotch. Karl pumped her so full of cream it began to leak out of her. The stickiness of Karl's essences smeared on her buttocks sent her over the edge, coming so violently she nearly pitched the man from her back. When she was not screaming, she and Cathy's mouths locked together in searing kisses that were five years in the making. Their orgasm was mutual, clitoral, though definitely helped by the human fountaining butt-plug and in the one and by the said plug's mind-numbing, extremely masculine climax.

Karl crashed onto the tarp on Catherine's right; Nicola lay where she fell, right on top of her. Fully ten minutes later, the Aussie realized with a jolt that her best friend was sound asleep where she'd fallen. How funny. She shouldered the smaller girl to her other side and slid the rest of the way out from underneath. Nicola rolled onto her side, back to Catherine, and fell into a deeper phase of sleep. A small smile curled the corners of the redhead's mouth.

"How was it?" asked Karl. Apparently he'd recovered his thought processes.

Catherine's were a bit slower. "… Amazing. Really… unique."

"First time with a girl?" he asked, perceptively.

"Uh-huh." She really didn't want to discuss it. Not yet. She would want to stew on that at least a couple days before she came to any conclusions.

"Well, I don't know about you, but I have ass and god knows what else on me now." Karl rolled his eyes like it was just horrid, but playfully.

"…And I think I'm getting sand in various unfortunate… uh… places." Catherine finished.

"Another dip in the ocean, then?" he asked.

"Yeah, when I can walk. I'm still too shaky, but go ahead."

"I'll wait for you."

And silence.

Catherine sat waiting for the tingling and pounding blood to die down, but no, it was getting worse as she sat next to the man she'd lusted over for two years. Not looking at him didn't help. Singing "Old MacDonald Had a Farm" didn't help. Shit. She'd just have to fake it--calmness, that was.

When she took a quick look over at Karl to signal her readiness, she gave a start. He was totally zoning on her. The expression on his broad Kiwi face was so intense she felt as if she should make excuses for all the things she'd thought about him. But she didn't. He wouldn't even know unless she told him, right? Better he didn't. Catherine let him talk, instead.

"You know," he ruminated. "Nicola's really hot, really a fine piece of tail… But… she likes it hard and fast… and I'll bet you like it slow. As do I, at times like this. Can I try something?"

Catherine's heart beat fast. Yeah, go for it. "What?"

"Come down to the water first."

Karl's penis led the way. Already it was growing hard again, going from a chubby, dusky ‘interested' to a veritable spear rising from his loins and swaying with his steps. They walked to where the tide was coming in and submerged their bodies.

There in the surf, Karl lifted Catherine up and kissed her. There, the waves crashing around them, they made out like a couple of kids who knew nothing of the particulars of sex. He held her tight in his arms, hard against his body. She touched him everywhere, or almost, everywhere she could reach that wasn't strictly an erogenous zone, only now they all were. Those thick, puffy lips of his, they were so soft, he made his tongue soft as it invaded her mouth, parted her lips, coaxed a response that she was more than willing to give.

Catherine couldn't get enough of his skin. It was definitely a man's skin; wet from the salt water, it felt like buttery leather on the smooth parts. His chest heaved as it accepted the anointing of her tongue. Already as hard as hers had ever been, his tiny brown, pebbled nipples rolled perfectly between her fingers. They had to be as sensitive as a girl's, too, the way he carried on when she discovered how messing with them made him whimper and growl. She thought she'd died and gone to heaven as she caressed Karl's muscular arms; the bulges of his biceps and slabs of shoulder muscle promised a rough taking, if anytime she wanted it. Then, abandoning any normal reservation, she pulled his arms up and dived face-first into a thick-haired armpit. Her other hand clenched in the little bush under his other arm and tugged gently. Karl laughed at her, at this little idiosyncrasy. For that, she snaked the hand down and tugged likewise at his pubic curls.

Whatever she did to him, he answered to her, with every new move mutely checking her reactions. She smoothed her hands flat down his back, over his flanks, over and then under his hard buttocks. Hissing, he pulled his mouth away to close it over one of her stinging nipples. He sucked and pulled and flicked; just when it got to be too much, he did the exact same to its twin. Cathy finally put both hands to the sides of his face and drew him up.

This was too much; this was la-la-land. She made him go at her pace, reveling in the joy that was Karl, to come in for a kiss, pull back for a look; in for a kiss, back for another look at the man with his dark mop of hair falling through her fingers and the soft long whiskers brushing her palms; she was so utterly aware of the throbbing staff trapped between them but all she did in acknowledgment was to let the ocean rock them to and fro as it would.

Every single second pushed her to want more, more, but at the same time it made her stop, stop; wait, wait; the longer they waited for consummation the better it would be. It was a sweet push-pull. Catherine could've stayed like that forever, but finally with a groan, Karl whispered into her ear, "Ah, baby… you turn me on so bad! I'm going mad. You know what you do to me." He captured her hand and pushed it down to his erection, unabated in the cool water. Catherine's belly spasmed in response, feminine instinct demanding to get on that right NOW. A reflex, her fingers closed around the proffered arousal.

She had a few ideas of her own, too. "So, do I get to ride the horse-lord?"

Karl's half-lidded eyes snapped open. He audibly gasped. "You know about that?"

Shit. Had that been the wrong move? Too late now. "Of course I do. We both do. So? You only bonk people who are clueless?"

"Would you be doing this if I was just some faceless, anonymous guy?"

"Depends."

"On what?" How the hell he was playing twenty-questions with that kind of a hard-on, she didn't know.

"Does the guy walk up and start throwing suggestive remarks about six and sex and sux…" Oh, the naughty grin on his face. "Does he look like you? Move like you? Carry one of those…?" She tightened her grip. Karl snorted.

"So, that's all I am? A pretty face, a smart mouth, and a goodly piece of cock?" There was a flash of pissed-off-edness, but the tone was all smart-ass.

"No, dummy!" Catherine protested, before this got away from her. "That's not all, but this isn't the time or place… And what about you? Speaking of smart mouths, do you always sneak up to strange women on beaches and proposition them?"

"Nope, it's my first time."

"Somehow, I doubt that. You just fucked the shit out of my friend, after all. Not exactly a virgin performance." His rock-solid organ twitched under Catherine's slowly stroking hand.

"Ok, you got me."

"Good, I know I did. I like a man who can admit defeat."

"I don't call this," he butted his hips against her, "defeat."

"Well then, what do we do with it, eh? Well, Éomer? Do I get a ride?"

"Yeah," Karl said slowly. "You can ride. Shit!" He shook himself briefly and carried her, legs around his waist, out of the rolling waves. Five feet above the water line, where the sand was wet and smooth, he fell to his knees. She held on like a tick. Karl got his heels under his butt, almost squatting but with his knees close together and definitely on the ground. He was manhandling her, moving her into position to straddle his cock right then and there. That was fine. Was that ever fine. Catherine's guts and her cunt tightened in anticipation of being filled, being full of Karl. And then she was. The wide blunt head shoved against her opening as Karl maneuvered her around for the best angle and then he reared up with his hips, at the same time forcing her to open to him, to take him all in in one giddy slide. Oh, fuck! She was split in two and it was hitting something deep inside and already she almost came. Careful to avoid getting grit on them, Karl took over. While her legs had been clasped over his waist, he unwrapped them, placed her feet on the sand so she squatted over his kneeling lap.

"Go on girl, work with me--ride me!" he ground out between his teeth. Catherine held on any way she could. He bucked up into her till she cried out and squirmed and squeezed and bit her lip so hard it bled; she was gonna come, she fucked that lovely, rigid pole inside her till the night was red-tinged and her cunt was ravaged with juices and frantic sliding.

This was the ride of the gods, she decided, in that stupid-silly pre-orgasmic place; or the goddesses. Yes, them. She was a goddess, taking pleasure from her golden slave. Karl, her slave. It was too much. When Karl reached between her legs to flick her clit gently, that was it. Fireworks went off in Cathy's abdomen, sucking down hard and tight around the ravening stalk inside her. "Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh….!" She couldn't stop herself from this incoherent yelping. Her pleasure was huge; it was her world. She was the goddess of orgasms and spasms and cumming. All the blood in her body was bound up in her cunt and her inside woman's parts. An explosive climax thumped in her belly so hard it felt like fetal kicks.

"Christ, girl, I felt that… what the fuck?" Karl's already huge eyes were studying her like he'd never seen a woman cum before. Cathy went suddenly limp, slack, replete. "I don't know," she laughed weakly. "Holy shit!"

Karl was not finished with her. Obviously so. He had ideas, too. "Get up and turn ‘round," he whispered simply. "Watch the sand, alright? You liked watching your friend getting banged like a dog, didn't you?" He smiled, untamed. The slow fire within Cathy raged up again.

"Shit, yeah!" she said, semi-cautiously raising herself a little at a time till she could stand. Karl held her steady. His glistening shaft throbbed heavily, almost like it was ready to come and get her again all on its own.

"Turn…" His strong hands turned her around while she watched her feet, not wanting to toss any sand onto him.

"On your knees…" She went. Karl pressed up behind her so she could feel though not see his large presence. He generated warmth and a special scent all his own from all his exertions; both washed over her, making her feel sedated and excited at once.

The tumescence pushed against her perineum, a mute indecision.

"Which hole?" Karl's voice had never been lower. He bent over her till his chest and stomach rested heavily on her back, overshadowing her like a captive. Maybe Catherine had almost a foot of height on Nicola, but now she knew what that had felt like and she loved it.

"Pussy."

"Who you calling…" he began tartly, falsely, a distraction. Catherine felt him slide in, all the way in. She was all soft and gooshy inside, like warm butter, he so hard and rampant. Immediately, he was close. She could tell by the harsh breathing and the way he grasped her shoulders to pull her back. His thighs smacked her; his hands molested her whole front now, tweaking the stiff peaks of her breasts and stroking over and over her belly and mound of Venus. The man finally held her by the hips and fucked her slowly and adamantly, low gasps coming from between his open lips.

"Fuck… oh fuck…" Karl moaned.

Cathy barely heard. She had had a small death-like orgasm with every single thrust. Hard as stone, he was long enough to hit that spot that made her uncontrollably shake and clench and arch herself onto him, wanting more and more, to let it build like a storm, to fall apart all over again, to cum all over him like some animal in a flood of fluid and pheromones.

Catherine felt him shaking. He spilt himself into the woman, spurting hot seed deep inside, thrashing against her violently till the end. "Ow…Ow…!" he whimpered at the very last, against her neck. When the warm cream poured into her, her love came down like a wellspring and a waterfall. Catherine arched her back painfully; Karl bent his head around and clamped his teeth on her jugular. Spots of light flamed in back of the redhead's closed eyelids. There was a gush of liquid down the insides of her legs, a combination of her Karl's semen and her own love juices. The sand below them turned dark momentarily, till their own salt sunk into the salt of the rising tide.

Catherine fell forward onto her hands, panting from lost oxygen. Her lover remained for a while, till he softened enough to be expelled from her weeping orifice.

Catherine didn't know whether they had walked, stumbled, or crawled back to the campsite. The last thing she did remember was Karl picking her up and carrying her into the water, and holding her cradled in his arms as she practically passed out in the afterglow. She didn't remember falling asleep. She was aware, very distinctly, of slowly regaining consciousness half under a naked, heavy, very aroused male body, evidenced by a forthright poking against her leg. She didn't recall losing her bathing suit either but obviously that had happened before the sex. Where-ever it was, probably miles away, she was more than happy right where she was to have a pair of large, square hands caressing her breasts till she was halfway to insanity. When she was writhing under the growing sensations, a voice growled into her ear, "G'Morning, babe. What can I do for you?"

It was still nearly pitch dark, so ‘good morning' made no sense. As for the other half of what Karl said, she didn't have to consider. She'd already been wishing it. "Head."

"What?!"

"Head. I want head." Karl looked at her from under his half-closed lids.

"You mean, eaten?" He brought one hand quickly down her body and cupped her mound, a mute testament to ‘where,' exactly, he was to eat.

"Mm-hm. You better get used to the term." He was already wiggling downwards, a trail of saliva left across Catherine's belly as he licked downwards. "Right," he said. "Giving a woman head…" and he snorted, a puff of air giving the redhead goose bumps. The soft hairs on his chin and cheeks tickled against her soft skin. Lower, lower…

Of their own accord, the Aussie girl's legs parted to invite, no demand, his attention to her most intimate parts. Lips, tongue, moustache, oh fuck! Catherine was suddenly as limp as a boned fish in sensual enjoyment. Little mewls escaped her open mouth that left no room for breathing or swallowing or even thinking. The wet muscle plying her clit started soft and tender, barely brushing the very sensitive, exposed tip of it. With more of a point, Karl licked into her warm and dewy labial folds, tasting and teasing around her center of pleasure. Once he got back to the crisis point and found a rhythm that suited them both, the dark-haired man shifted his body directly between Catherine's long legs, on his knees with his head down in her muff. Her whimpers turned to wordless gasps. The licks became kisses, which became short pulls by his incredible lips, which became one long tongue-twirling, crevasse-finding, clitoral hood-peeling sucking-on. Catherine grabbed Karl by the hair but didn't know whether to pull him down or push him back, so all she did was hang on.

Nicola woke to the enticing sight of her best friend on her back and her best friend's fantasy man kneeling over her, the two of them in mutual ecstasy. After a good cleansing stretch, she couldn't just sit there (and it was a bit uncomfortable to sit). Her passionate French blood insisted that she had to touch. And she knew just how she wanted to touch, too. Casting about for suntan oil, she quickly located the coconut-scented ointment. Oh, it had always smelled like sex to her, even though she'd never used it for that purpose before. A premonition told her that after this night, she'd never smell that scent again without certain connotations.

Karl was absolutely gorgeous in that position, his well-muscled ass in the air as he knelt between the taller woman's splayed legs. The man was too distracted by his thorough eating-out of Catherine's wet pussy to notice Nic's movements. Admiring a full-back view, spread cheeks, tapering waist, lush and rippling back muscles and dark longish hair blowing in the soft breeze, Nicola slowly lotioned up her hands. When she could restrain her urges no longer she moved close enough to Karl to place both slick palms on his lower back. He gave a subtle wiggle in her favor. She caressed, then massaged, her hands moving lower and lower and finally she played all ten fingertips over his taut cheeks. Catherine moaned softly, continuously, her head tossing back and forth and auburn strands flung everywhere. Nicola finally gathered her bravery and moved into Karl's cleft. Her index finger rimmed the secret entrance. Karl stiffened for just a second. He looked over his shoulder at her, eyes dark and bottomless. "What do you think you're doing, missy?"

"It's alright, isn't it? Please, Karl?" Nicola said softly, stroking minutely with just one fingertip. "Even straight boys need their bums loved."

Karl half-smiled and raised the eyebrow nearest Nicola. "That they do… but who are you calling straight?" Catherine gave a surprised squeak. Karl's countenance was that of someone who just realized they'd forgotten a very important appointment. Immediately, his head dipped down. From her position, Nicola could see his tongue slip between Catherine's lightly fuzzed folds. The wet muscle stroked her tiny pleasure spot relentlessly, till he had to push down on her plush hips with those thick-fingered browned hands to keep her still. Catherine would not bring her volume up. Karl wanted to hear her scream. He was on the verge, himself. Nicola's fingers traced a burning, tickly division in the crease of his ass. She bent down and licked flickering lines across his cheeks. Gradually, through the haze of fingering and tonguing Cathy's gushing hole, Karl grasped that a tongue was coming nearer and nearer his entrance. He loosed an animalistic groan from low in his belly.

"You want someseeng, Karl?" Nicola breathed between licks. Just then she brushed her tongue over his puckered ring. He jumped involuntarily. The surprisingly strong girl slapped a hand on each side of his rump to hold his cheeks apart.

Karl finally answered, "Yeah… I wanna bury my cock in your friend's hot little pussy… and I want your fingers or your tongue up my ass while I do it." Catherine held back spasms at hearing him talk like that. His hawk-like eyes were fixed on hers over her short, trimmed curls.

Concentrating, for it was difficult enough just to string two words together logically, Catherine spoke for them both. "Morning's coming, and we did that already… Finish me off, and then let us treat you… all for you next time… please, Karl!"

His erection, hanging hard and heavy between his legs, twitched not once but three or four times as Nicola's first finger breached him. His eyes rolled back. "Fucking god!" he snapped. His blazing, silvery irises met Catherine's again a moment later. "You know she's got her finger up my arse!"

"And do you like it?" Nicola was looking at her keenly over Karl's long, tensed back.

"…Yeah, but… Oh, shit Nikki, find the spot!"

Nicola had a medical text back home, and of course they'd all read slash, but this had not prepared the Canadian for actually performing this act. She had better learn fast. Thank god she'd clipped her nails short.

Karl displayed an amazing amount of trust. As Nicola wiggled and thrust her finger experimentally, he went back down on Catherine with a vengeance. Soon the tickling of his tongue and facial hair made her spasm once, again, her body twisting and quivering in near-release. The tenseness of the earlier orgasms was lacking; this time Catherine just got more and more relaxed till her explosion melted into an under-towing wave of hot lava. Her whole body was suffused by a slow-motion free-fall into warm taffy. "…Aaaahhh, aaaaah…." She groaned, even her sex-noises in slo-mo. "Kaaaarlll… that feels soooo gooooood…"

The man's hair brushed against Catherine's thighs as he made damn sure she was good and done. He jumped a bit as her legs snapped shut. After the her final pulsations, a powerful endorphin rush made her so incredibly sluggish the Aussie didn't know, in her state of bliss, if she'd move for the next week.

Karl had raised his torso slightly, balancing on his elbows. His forehead creased in concentration, bountiful lips slightly open, nostrils flared, and amazing, panting breaths punctuated by noisy lowing sounds escaped. Wanting to know what he was going on about, Catherine raised surprised eyes to Nicola. Scooting backwards, she could see that where there had been one, now there were three slim fingers sliding in and out of his hole. Picking up the coco-butter scent, Catherine blurted out, "Holy shit, Nicola!" The two piercing stares flicked to her a minute, then away, into their own little space.

Karl took it upon himself to further Nicola's education. "C'mon, baby, fuck me with your fingers!" he growled. Nicola took a deep breath and pushed, pulled, twisting her wrist. "Uh…uh… deeper… go on; you can't hurt me." Once she became comfortable with this, Karl arched his back and wiggled his ass, almost as if he was trying to locate something. The watching girls had an idea of what.

Nicola glanced at Catherine, a smirk on her pliable French lips. "Suck ‘im," she ordered. "Go on… help him… suck ‘is cock!"

The leaking erection jumped again. "Shit!" Karl hissed. "Spread your fingers… like scissors." Apparently Nicola had complied. Every muscle in his back and shoulders standing in taut relief, Karl rocked himself, fucked himself, onto her hand.

Catherine shifted around on the bedding till she could get her head under him. When she took it in her mouth, the smooth, throbbing cockhead released pearls of pre-cum right onto her tongue, sweet like sugar. The angle was not conducive but Catherine did the best she could, opening her jaws wide and pursing her lips to make his very skin slide under her suction. She held herself up on one shoulder and burrowed under Karl's hairy belly, down to his thick pubic thatch, swallowing, holding her breath, almost gagging on the breadth of him. The trickle of drizzle down her throat eased the way. Karl ground his hips forward, down. His furry sac pillowed against the side of her flushed cheek.

Seconds went by, a minute, two, while Karl lost himself between the women. He gritted his teeth and snorted heavy ecstatic grunts. Catherine was so suffocated beneath the powerful, thrashing hips she nearly passed out. Above, Nicola did not let up. She did notice how low to the ground his body was getting as he spread his legs apart more and more for her. "Okay, big boy, take it easy, now…" she cajoled.

Karl did not slow so easily. He was pushing toward his climax, into Cathy's hot little furiously tonguing mouth. God, that girl could give head. She took it deep, to the hilt, her satiny lips locked tight around his impressive girth. The finger treatment felt good, but it was not the same as getting fucked, not really. Just as the realization hit him, Nicole grabbed him by the hair and pulled him upright. "Don't kill ‘er!" the Canadian finally yelled.

Catherine gulped much-needed air into her lungs but bent to Karl's upright member almost immediately. Still catching up on oxygen, she explored another spot: Karl's balls. The twin glands pulsed with a life of their own. The loose skin over them tightened around the tender contents. With special care, she mouthed those aching globes, tracing spirals and circles. Just then, Nicola discovered his secret pleasure spot. Karl squeezed his eyes shut and arched his long back, a mute invitation for her to plunder deeper yet.

There was not a second to be lost. Karl's peak, held off while he had given Catherine her head trip to oblivion, and then later by Nicola's inexperience, rushed at the three of them. Gleefully, though somehow respectfully, the small woman behind Karl pumped her fingers in and out of his hole with steadily increasing force and speed. Now that she and found the small hard bulge within his tight tunnel, there was no letting up. Scooping up the bottle of oil, she squirted some more onto her employed hand. Slippery fingers applied gratifying pressure to the Kiwi's sweet spot, unabated. Veins popped out on his forehead, his whole face red and shiny and he struggled to control his release for a few more seconds.

For her part, Catherine was down on her knees in front him, taking his near-bursting organ into the back of her throat, swallowing, humming, getting in any stray lick she could. Lower, she noted the drawing up his testes against his body and prepared herself.

Neither girl had ever heard a man scream like that, but scream Karl did as he gushed in orgasm, assaulted from two sides by the two aggressive females. A salty geyser of seed exploded into Catherine's ready mouth. She practically inhaled it, clamping her lips and sucking hard to heighten his release. Behind, Nicola let go of Karl's hair but barely slowed her plunging fingers. She snaked her free hand around his chest to tug a rock-hard nipple. After the first scream, Karl dissolved into muddied growls, which lessened as his cream and energy drained from him. Before it was all swallowed, Nicola suddenly said to her friend, "Let me taste him."

It looked strange, for she was half his size, but Nicola assisted Karl in lying down or he might have fallen over, even from his knees. Then she crawled the short distance the redhead and kissed her soundly. Cathy snowballed her the white, silky remains of Karl's release. The girls turned to him as one to show him their twined-together tongues coated with his essences. His sides still heaving, he panted, wide-eyed, something semi-intelligible about, "… that is the hottest thing I've ever…" in a reverent tone.

With a mutual grin and a simultaneous, communion-like gulp, the girls approached him and lay down, too. One on each side, a red head on one shoulder, a brown glinty one on the other, all that long hair thrown in long rivers to the sides, and Karl's own nearly black strands between, three sets of eyes watched the stars as the firelight died again, and the night died, and the stars faded into the morning light.

*****

THE END

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