As Phil and I drove with four friends down the open highway I reflected back on how he and I, Amy Thomas nee Williams, got together. At many points in time I thought that it would never happen, but here we were married five years and me six months pregnant.
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I met Phil Thomas shortly after I graduated college. I met him on a bicycle club trip that I attended with my apartment mate Kathy. Actually Phil wasn't the first guy on the trip to make a big impression on me -- that was Phil's friend Don Reston. Don may have been the best looking guy that I had ever seen, especially given the bulge in the crotch of his tight bicycle shorts. When Kathy saw me looking she said "Obviously falsies," resulting in big guffaws from both of us.
While Don was a ten in the looks department (yeah, women can rate guys too, it doesn't just go one way) Phil Thomas was definitely no mud fence; I rated him between a 9 and 9.5. Dan seemed preoccupied with a woman who shouldn't have been riding a bicycle because her big tits made her unbalanced, but Phil quickly developed an interest in me, and a third guy -- not associated with Don and Phil -- named Jeremy was bird-dogging Kathy.
Everyone on the trip was pleasant and seemed to have a good time. Don was particularly nice when he was introduced to me as my knees suddenly got a little weak; I must have pedaled too hard.
Phil got my phone number and the promise of a date.
Jeremy got that slut Kathy's pussy and their activities in the next bedroom kept me up most of the night. Since that wasn't unusual for Kathy, even though I liked her I moved into my own apartment within two months after that, namely as soon as I could afford it.
I really liked Phil. I had only two problems with him.
The first problem with Phil was that he drank alcohol. As the daughter of an alcoholic father (fortunately not usually a mean one, and I was blessed with a very protective pro-active mother) I don't drink and I don't allow it as an excuse for bad behavior. Someone involved in an alcohol-related accident would not want me on the jury -- I'd give him or her life in prison if I could.
The second problem with Phil was that he seemed to have a wandering eye. I believe strongly in monogamy and if I was unsure about that in a mate, he wouldn't be my mate.
The first time that Phil used alcohol as an excuse for his behavior -- which corresponded with him being touchy-feely with another woman at a club -- he found out about my lack of tolerance. He and I had been intimate about a month at that time and unless he was the biggest fake in history he absolutely loved my pussy and the way that I squeezed his cock with it. After confronting him on the dance floor -- and the woman he was feeling up pushing me and ending up flat on her back with a broken nose -- I stormed out, went a couple of blocks over to make sure that he couldn't find me, and then called a cab.
When Phil came to my apartment the next day to apologize he got a profanity-laced tongue lashing that would have made General Patton proud. Suitably chastised he asked what he could do to make it right. "Your problem, not mine; think about it for two weeks and give me three possible solutions and then I'll tell you if one is acceptable."
"But you are coming to my cousin's wedding with me next Saturday, aren't you?" he inquired.
"Hell no; I'm not seeing you until two weeks from today; get another date," I snarled.
He was stuttering "But...but...but..." as I pushed him out of the door.
I had no idea whether he went to his cousin's wedding with or without a date the next week until he came to see me exactly two weeks after my ultimatum.
Phil was very humble -- not his usual confident self -- when he shuffled into my apartment. I wasn't hostile -- but I only allowed a quick peck on my cheek when he entered. After a little small talk he got right to the point.
"Amy, I've got only one solution to propose to you, which includes two parts. The first is that I got a three month prescription for naltrexone to eradicate my desire for alcohol. The second is that I have an affidavit from your former roommate Kathy who I went to my cousin's wedding with attesting to the fact that I was a perfect gentleman the entire time." After making these bold statements he handed me a bottle of pills with "Vivitrol" (a brand name for naltrexone) on the label that indicated thirty pills and two refills, and a piece of paper.
I looked in the bottle which already had about ten pills gone, and the pills did say "Vivitrol" on them so they were real, not fakes. The document was also interesting. It was an affidavit from Kathy signed in front of a notary indicating that she had gone to Phil's cousin's wedding with him and despite suggestive comments and actions on her part he kept his hands to himself the entire time and did not drink at the reception. In fact he did not "take advantage" of her (it would more likely be the other way around given her slut tendencies) even when she got drunk.
While Kathy is a slut, she never lied to me about anything significant in the three years that I knew her and we didn't really have any hard feelings when I stopped rooming with her -- she understood my reasons. Therefore I thought that the document was likely truthful, but to be sure I called her up and talked to her right in front of Phil. I knew that I would be able to tell by the tone of her voice if she was lying. I came away from the conversation convinced that she was telling the truth.
When I terminated the call Phil had an expectant look on his face. "I accept; as long as it doesn't happen again and you take the full three months of naltrexone," I told him.
He smiled widely, gave me a big kiss, and invited me to dinner that night.
After dinner and an hour of dancing I figured that Phil needed a reward. Therefore I took him back to my apartment and tried my best to please him. He was of a like mind, and with both of us trying her/his best to please the other we both succeeded. I do believe that I had at least half a dozen orgasms from his oral administrations -- to the point that my clit was hypersensitive -- and I sucked all of the seminal fluid out of his balls by riding him cowgirl, and later reverse cowgirl, each time pulsating my pc muscles as vigorously as I could. The next morning we were sore but very happy.
That night, and Phil's attitude change, was the start of our love affair. While Phil still seemed to have a wandering eye -- what guy doesn't to some extent -- he was the perfect mate. Therefore almost one year to the day after that night we were married. Don was one of the groomsman, Kathy one of the bridesmaids; for some reason that I couldn't adequately explain to myself I was glad that they didn't hook up, although it was not for lack of trying by Kathy.
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Married life was between good and very good for four years. Then I wouldn't say that it got bad -- because it didn't -- but Phil seemed to have a little more wandering eye than before. I never had any really concrete reason to believe that he was cheating, or even desirous or capable of cheating, but my apprehension took the edge off my happiness for a while. However, about three months into my apprehensive stage after a really nice doggy fuck one night Phil put our noses together and asked "When is it time for the first kid? I'm ready."
The next week I had my IUD removed, and within six weeks I was pregnant.
I felt good during my pregnancy, and Phil was attentive. What disturbed me, however, was that he wasn't as interested in sex once I started showing. My libido had not decreased in the least since my pregnancy, and in fact probably had slightly increased. His excuse was that he didn't want to hurt the baby -- which was a poor one as far as I was concerned since doggy was my favorite position and I didn't see how the baby could be hurt doing doggy.
The reaction of our friends to my pregnancy varied widely.
Kathy -- who had gotten married to a nice guy named Jim and who swore to me that she had reformed her slutty ways -- was very curious. She really wanted to have kids, but didn't like the idea of her body changing too much. I reassured her -- using statistics provided by my OB/GYN -- that for most women recovery after delivering takes about 6-8 weeks for your body to heal and if you regularly exercise about four-six months to feel and look the same as you did before you got pregnant.
Jim always smiled and complimented me on my appearance.
Most of our other friends always had some comment about it but never really wanted to focus on my pregnancy.
The most unusual response was from Don.
Without fail whenever Don saw me he'd get a big smile on his face, say "Please can I touch your belly" (some people didn't ask, which irritated me) and when I agreed he would tenderly rub it for thirty or forty seconds and then say "You look and feel nice -- really nice" which caused me to blush since he hadn't changed from my initial impression of him as the best looking guy that I'd ever met; and, as I had come to know him, the nicest.
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Every year that we were married Phil and I took a summer vacation of at least ten days, usually two weeks. Often we would fly, but sometimes drive. Sometimes it was just us two sometimes with one or two other couples. This year we decided to drive rather than fly for many reasons, including my pregnancy, and to take a trip from our home in the Chicago suburbs to a number of locations out West, including National Parks and monuments.
Kathy, Jim, Don, and Don's latest big-titted girlfriend (I don't think that he every dated a woman that didn't have at least a D cup) were anxious to go with us. Somehow all of them, using a holiday weekend, were able to clear 15 days. I worked for an LLC with the best pregnancy accommodations that I'd ever heard of so I started pregnancy leave the day we left. We rented a small RV -- just big enough to hold the six of us and all of our luggage. It wasn't large enough to camp in but that made no difference since the three women "didn't do camping."
Actually, I hadn't been consulted about the members of our group, just asked to approve it once we were all together and the other five had apparently already started making plans. It wasn't that I didn't like the other people. Jim was very nice and Don's girlfriend Jen -- who probably got grades to match her cup size, i. e. not too bright -- was easy to get along with as long as the conversation didn't get too intellectual. Kathy, of course, had been my friend for a long time, however I still wondered about her slutty ways and I didn't want something to come up that caused a heated argument between her and Jim. Lastly, Don was just too goddam good looking and tried much, much harder to be kind to everyone than any other good-looking guy that I had ever seen, so he made me nervous and caused unwelcome twitches in various parts of my body.
