The Palmist Ch. 01

AUTHOR'S NOTE: All characters in this chapter who are mentioned by name are 19 years old at first mention, as is the unnamed "guy from Trentstown".

*****

After my first year of college, I came back to Bellewood with a broken heart and my tail between my legs. I'd been so excited about going to Western, but by May I started to rethink everything. And it was all because of Katrina. She dumped me during the last week of classes, saying that since summer was coming, and we'd be separated by our hometowns 5 hours apart, maybe we should take a break until fall, and then see how we felt. I tried and tried to dissuade her, telling her I was more than willing to visit her regularly over the summer, and we could skype every day, and call. Why was the distance such a problem? We were sitting in the lobby in her dorm, and she said, "No, David, I'm sorry, but it has to be this way. We can talk in the fall, but until then, we can't see each other. We just can't. Have a good summer." With that, she got up and walked away. I said, "Katrina, please. Can we just talk about this some more?" She ignored me, didn't turn around, and disappeared down a hallway.

I called her each day after that, leaving voicemail messages begging her to reconsider. She did not return my calls. I couldn't concentrate on studying for my finals, and I could barely sleep. I was on track for As and Bs in all my classes, but I bombed every exam, and for one class didn't turn in the final project at all. I ended up with straight Cs. I was in tears as I packed up my stuff to head home.

Katrina was the most beautiful girl in the world to me. She took my breath away the first time I saw her, and I was over the moon with excitement when she agreed to our first date. We were both 19, both in our second semester at Western. She said she wanted to take it slow, and really get to know each other before getting too physical. I took her to dinner, movies, shows, and a concert in the two months we were together. My whole day, every day, revolved around her. Wherever she wanted me to be, and whenever she wanted me there, I was there. She had me call her every morning to wake her up, and sometimes she was grouchy to me, or she'd say, "Nnnng, call me back in 20 minutes" and hang up. And I would do it.

I helped her study for exams, and helped her write her papers. She'd say, "Here, quiz me on this" or "Help me figure this out" or "I have to write a paper on this, can you look up some stuff for me?" I did anything she asked.

She said she didn't like public displays of affection, so we didn't hold hands, or really touch each other at all, when others were around. The first time I tried to kiss her, she turned her head to accept a kiss on the cheek. Then she said, "Um, David... why don't you let me make the first move, OK?" I agreed. I was so crazy about her. Whatever she needed, to feel comfortable, I was willing to do it.

We fooled around ONE time, and it was just three days before she broke up with me. I drove a group of us to Blackfoot Lake to see Slow Drift in concert at the amphitheatre there, and then we all camped in the campground that night. We went really early and got our campsite and set it all up before we headed to the show.

Katrina got separated from our group about halfway through the concert, and I couldn't find her, and she wasn't replying to my texts. When I called her phone, it went right to voicemail, so I thought maybe there was a problem with her service, which isn't that reliable around Blackfoot Lake anyway. We didn't wait for her after the show, because her friend Brittany said we should go ahead, get to the car, and start making our way out of the lot, as that might take an hour anyway. During that hour, one of us could surely reach her by phone and guide her to where the car was.

That made sense to me, so we did that. But as we inched closer to the gate, which would take us out onto the road, I got more and more anxious, because we still weren't making contact with Katrina. But then I got a text. She said she'd gotten a ride with someone and was already at the campground. We were all greatly relieved, and once at the campsite, I hugged her and told her I'd been so worried and was so glad to see her, and to know she was OK. "Aww. That's so sweet," she said.

"Who did you get a ride with?"

"Just some people I met, who are also staying here."

"Are you sure it was safe to do that? I mean-"

"Yeah, like I said, they're staying here, so ... I mean, this is where I needed to go."

"Well, yeah, but I mean... you didn't *know* they were staying here until they actually brought you here. What if they'd been lying, and-"

"I knew I could trust him- or, them, I mean. The driver was a guy, that's why I said 'him', but... it was a group... of us... there was a group of us. Anyway, you worry too much, sweetie. I knew I was OK."

That night, in our tent, we slept on an air mattress that could accommodate two. We got under the covers together in the dark, and I said, "I know you said not to expect... um... you know... that we'd get physical... but... can we at least ... kinda... snuggle?"

"Yes, we can snuggle," she said. "But... actually... I think I might wanna do more."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah."

Oh my god, I almost couldn't believe my ears. Ohhh, I wanted her so bad. I said, "Well... OK... I'll let you take the lead, though, because ... well, I ... um... I love you, Katrina. And I'll never push you to do anything you don't want to do."

"Good. Just lay back and relax, then." I did, and she snuggled up beside me and started to kiss my ear. She lay her arm across my chest, and stroked it. She kissed my neck, and breathed into my ear, giving me goose bumps... and a massive erection!

Eventually, her hand wandered down to my crotch, and she caressed my dick through the sweatpants I had on. She teased it, brushing it lightly, or ocassionally pressing, then taking her hand away to run it along my abdomen or chest some more. She made my dick twitch and throb when she whispered, "My pussy... is really wet... I want you taste how wet it is," and she reached down and touched herself, then brought her fingers to my lips. It was so dark, I couldn't see any of this, but I could hear and feel everything.

"Ohhhh my god," she said, "I really want you to taste my pussy... Do you want to taste my pussy, David? I mean, would you... would you go down on me and lick my pussy?"

"Hhhh yes."

"Lick my pussy, David," she said, softly. "Hhhhh... lick my pussy... do it." With that, she used both her hands to guide my head, which descended beneath our blanket. In total darkness, I could feel her bare thighs against my cheeks, I could smell the musky aroma, and then my tongue touched her pussy lips, and I could taste what was indeed soooo wet. I ran my tongue along its length, and she moaned and sighed heavily. I licked up.. and down... and up... and down, then pressed a bit to get my tongue between her lips, and began to sense her creamy juices. As she began to gyrate her hips more, and grasp my head more firmly, I plunged deeper with my tongue, and my nose rubbed against her clit, my nostrils filled with its aroma.

I was amazed at how prolific her vaginal secretions were, and how strong they tasted. I thought it would have taken much more foreplay to get her so wet, and the fact was, I hadn't even touched her myself. Did she get that turned on just from kissing me and caressing my crotch a little? If we were going to have intercourse, it was going to be incredible, but how long would I be able to hold off climax, once my dick was invited into such a warm, wet sanctuary?

"Ohhhh my god, David. Yes. Deeper. Mmmmm. Lick. Mmmmmm, suck my pussy, David. Suck it. Ohhhh god, that feels so good."

When she came, she didn't vocalize too much, because we were in a campground surrounded by people we knew. But she pulled my face in tightly, and pressed herself hard against my mouth and nose, and quivered and bucked. My dick was sooo hard, and it was rubbing against the end of the mattress since my lower half hung over the edge. I couldn't get my crotch away from the mattress, and I was afraid the pressure would make me cum in my pants. I barely avoided an accident, and then Katrina slowed down, but held my head in place.

"Ohhhhhh. God, that was so amazing. Lick me softly, David. Just lick me softly."

I stayed put and softly licked, as she sighed, and lightly massaged my hair with the fingers of both hands.

"Kiss me, too. Kiss and lick. I might not be finished."

I did as she asked, and after about 10 minutes, she gradually started to build up the pace again, eventually culminating in a second orgasm. Her juices now seemed much thinner than before, more watery, and she didn't taste as strong. I wondered if vaginal lubrication gradually decreased over time, for all women. I hadn't remembered learning that in sex ed, and, unfortunately, my first-hand experience was not that extensive.

Her second climax was also followed by a cool-down period, and I continued kissing her pussy and softly licking it. Finally she let out a long exhale, and patted my head and said, "OK... David... I think that's enough for tonight. We should probably get some sleep. We'll all be up early in the morning, I'm sure. So... let's try to get to sleep."

"Ummm. Well... OK." I was a bit bewildered that after all that time licking her pussy, which I really thought was leading to intercourse, that she thought we should just stop. Besides... well... *I* hadn't had an orgasm. I got a little touching on my penis... not even my naked penis... but... well, obviously I wanted more.

So I couldn't help but press a little. I said, "Are you sure? I mean..."

"Yes. I'm sure. I'm worn out. You licked me soooo good, oh my god. But we'd better stop."

"Um... OK."

"Come up here, lie down. There's cold air coming from down there, we need to get settled."

"OK."

Once we were lying side-by-side, she turned away from me. She said, "If you wanna snuggle, that's fine, but don't get your face too close to mine. It's covered in pussy juice." Then she giggled. I snuggled up behind her to spoon with her, and of course my dick was still rock hard. It twitched as I pressed my crotch up against her butt, and she pulled away a little and said, "Hey. Stop poking me with that thing, haha."

So I kept my hips back enough so that my continual twitching wouldn't bother her. Before long I could sense she was asleep, but meanwhile I lay there for probably an hour, still breathing her aroma and feeling my persisent erection throbbing.

That was as close to sex with Katrina as I ever got. The next morning, as our group made eggs and bacon and coffee, and relived the previous evening's concert, I felt a sense of cold dread. I was preoccupied as I ate, but meanwhile Katrina was in high spirits, laughing and joking with everyone but me, and even striking up conversations with neighboring campers. As we all loaded up to go, Katrina said to Brittany, "Hey let me jump in back with you, so you can show me that video you were talking about. Ryan, you ride up front." I drove us back in silence, as I was lost in my anxious thoughts. No one seemed to notice, and no one tried to engage me in conversation.

Back on campus, Katrina seemed distant, and I could sense something was wrong. But I tried to carry on as usual, and indeed, our routine seemed unchanged. But there was just something different about how she was acting, and I felt her slipping away. Three days later, she dropped the "I think we should take a break for the summer" bomb on me.

I moped around at home for a week after returning to Bellewood. I couldn't stop thinking about Katrina. What had I done wrong? I picked up my phone three or four times every day, and brought her up from my contacts, holding my thumb over the button and looking at her name. But then I'd drop the phone in defeat, knowing one more attempted call would be fruitless.

In mid-May, my summer job at Feedler started. I'd be working second shift there, in the warehouse. At first, I was really thankful for the distraction. Being trained there gave me at least 8 hours a day where I was forced to forget about Katrina. Then, over the next few weeks, as I reconnected with hometown friends, I started socializing more during my off hours, and that helped, too. But I still lay awake some nights, replaying every moment I'd spent with Katrina, mentally examining every event, and every conversation we'd had, searching for clues as to where everything fell apart.

Other nights I lay awake thinking about that night in the tent, and how thrilling it was, feeling her thighs against my face for that hour or so that I serviced her pussy. In my head, I would play out alternate endings for that night, ones that didn't involve me going to sleep with an unsatisfied erection. Ones in which I actually slid my dick into the generous wetness between her thighs. But strangely, I couldn't seem to bring myself to climax by imagining fucking her. Some bubble of insecurity would well up and invade my mind, and I'd think of her saying "stop poking me with that thing", or "don't get your face too close to mine". I could only make myself cum by thinking of how she tasted, how my face felt being mashed into her pussy as she held my head in place, or how she made me stay in place so she could build to a second orgasm. Even the thought of her sleeping, right in front of me, as my unsatisfied dick twitched, and I considerately kept my hips back away from her, so as not to disturb her with my frustrated desire, would make me cum. Yet the image of fucking her just... seemed wrong somehow... like I was violating her wishes even by fucking her in my mind.

In late June, I got a call from Derek, one of my friends from Western. He lived right there in Anniston, where Western is, but he said he'd be passing by Bellewood on his way north to visit relatives. He suggested getting together. I said, "Sure. What are you thinking, just lunch or something, as you pass through? Or do you wanna spend the night? Or a few days, what? I'm up for anything, but I do work second shift Monday through Friday nights." In that case, he said, he'd leave early Saturday morning and stay until mid-day Monday, and then continue on to his relatives.

That was a fun weekend, or at least... it started out that way. He arrived around noon Saturday, and I took him to all the exciting attractions in Bellewood... like... our Dairy Queen, ha! Remo's Pizza. That's about it. So that didn't take long, but then back at the house we played Call of Duty, and cards with my parents, watched movies, and so on. We cracked each other up quoting lines from our favorite comedy movies, and played frisbee in the yard.

But then on Sunday night, we sat in Remo's having pizza and breadsticks, and some luscious babes were in the place. So Derek kept pointing out this one, or that one, and remarking on how hot they were. One I knew from high school, Megan, and Derek was like, "Ooooh. You know her? How 'bout an introduction, then? Yeah? Hook a brother up?"

When Megan looked in our general direction, I waved. We didn't know each other that well, so she was startled that I'd go to the trouble to wave. After doing a double-take, she waved back, awkwardly. But then she saw I was gesturing for her to come over. She did, bringing along her friend (whom I didn't know).

"Heyyy, David. How you doin'?"

"Hey, Megan. I'm good."

"Are you at Western?"

"Uhhh. Yeah."

"Home for the summer?"

"Yeah. Megan, this is one of my friends from Western. Derek."

"Hiii, Derek. Nice to meet you. This is Ashley. Ashley, this is David, and ... well, Derek!"

What followed was Ashley and me being subjected to several minutes of Derek chatting up Megan and doing his best to make her laugh. He was moderately successful. I was acquainted enough with Megan to know she didn't have any inclination toward rudeness, so even if she was not interested in Derek, she would probably need Ashley's help to disengage from the conversation. Ashley stood looking distracted, often casting her gaze to another part of the room. Since she obviously wasn't interesting in talking with me while she waited on her friend, I sat in silence munching breadsticks, and taking about 20 last sips of my soda.

Ashley said something to signal to Megan that they had to get going, so Megan politely brought the conversation to a close, saying, "Nice to meet you, Derek. Enjoy your stay here. Nice to see you, David. Bye bye." She smiled sweetly while Ashley practically yanked her away.

Derek's eyes followed them as they crossed the room, and he said, "Mmmm. Mm, mm, mm. Megan. Whew. Pretty nice, dude. Might have to stop here in Bellewood on the way back, too, haha." I smiled, weakly, but I felt empty and cold inside. Witnessing flirtation before my eyes just made me wistful for Katrina again, and Derek could see I was preoccupied and bummed. He said, "You all right, dude?"

I sighed, and said, "No. Not really. Man, I've been ... soooo ... *bummed* all summer ... over Katrina." I shook my head, looked out the window, and tears came to my eyes. I was able to choke them back, and continue: "I'm in love with her, Derek. *siiiigh* I'm in love with her. I just... can't understand what happened. I mean... what she said was, 'I think we should take a break for the summer, and see how we feel in the fall.' But ... I know that's ... that's just bullshit. We're... we're finished. But ... I don't know why. I don't know what happened, and she wouldn't tell me."

"You don't know what happened? What do you mean? You talkin' 'bout when you went to the Slow Drift concert?"

"Uhhh... what? We went to that, yeah... but..."

"Well, yeah, that's what I mean. At the concert, where she hooked up with that dude from Trentstown."

"Trentstown? What are you talking about? Wait... did you say 'hooked up'? She hooked up with... what??"

"Yeah, man, the guy she met at the show, some guy from Trentstown, and she hooked up with that guy and left the rest of you, and went back to the campground with him."

"What?!?"

"You didn't know about that?? Oh my god. Seriously??"

"I have no clue what you're talking about."

"OK... Why don't you tell me what happened that night, at the concert."

"Well... we were all enjoying the show, you know... jumpin' around, rockin' out... and we were all five together. But at some point I noticed Katrina wasn't there. So I asked Brittany, 'Where's Katrina?' She looked around, and said, 'I don't know. *You* don't know where she is?' We were saying, like, 'I don't see her, do you see her?' I asked Ryan and Trey if they knew where she was. No one knew.

"So then, I kept texting her, and calling her, and her phone kept going to voicemail. Brittany couldn't get her, either, and we just lost track of her until the end of the show. And we still couldn't get her on the phone. So Brittany said, 'Well, let's just go ahead and go to the car, and start making our way out while we're still trying to call her.' So we did that, and then she texted me and said she got a ride back to the campground."

At this point, Derek interjected and said, "Right. She rode back to the campground with that guy she met, from Trentstown, and fucked that guy before you got back. And THAT's the guy I'm talking about, and THAT's the guy she's seeing now."

"WHAT!??"

"Yeah. Oh my god, dude, you seriously didn't know about that guy?"

"No." At this point I thought there must be some mistake, and Derek must have heard a grossly inaccurate account of that evening. He wasn't there. Besides, Katrina couldn't have, and *wouldn't* have, fucked some guy that night. She just got separated from us and couldn't find us, and happened to find some people headed to the campground, people who happened to get out of the parking lot before we did. Once out of the gate, any car could get to the campground in five minutes. But if you were lucky enough to be near the front of the exodus, you'd beat someone in the back by 45 minutes to an hour.