Out of the Bottle

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.

*************

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.

************

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.

************

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.

Anyway, off on the road we went.

The first two nights we stayed in Minneapolis and saw the city and went to the Mall of America. After that we stopped off in Sioux Falls, South Dakota and went on a hot-air balloon ride and to an aquatic show, and took a bike ride through beautiful parks. Jen and I went only about half the distance of the others, me because of the size of my belly, her because of the size of her tits, but had just as much fun.

After two nights in Sioux Falls we went to Mount Rushmore and Custer State Park and spent one night in Rapid City. The next day we went to Devil's Tower -- about the weirdest place that I had ever seen in my life. We did a little hiking there -- Jen and I less than others -- and went to the visitor's center and had a great presentation by a Park Ranger. We stayed in a "quaint" motel just off the highway the next night and then drove to Garrison Stoker Resort in St. Xavier, Montana, our first long-stay destination.

The surrounding area was beautiful. Activities included going to the Little Bighorn Battlefield National Monument, hiking, boating, and maybe even swimming with a wet suit on. Hunting and fishing were also available, but not my thing. I was also interested in reading and just lounging around; after all if was a vacation.

Phil and I stayed in one small cabin, Jim and Kathy in another, and Don (much wealthier than the rest of us) and Jen in a larger cabin; all the cabins were plush.

The second day at the resort things got a little weird. Kathy and Jen wanted to go hiking, Don and I wanted to go to the Little Bighorn Monument, and Jim and Phil wanted to go fishing. We all ended up doing what we wanted to, but unfortunately Don was way too nice and solicitous during our outing and I returned with wet panties. Since Phil didn't have the desire to fuck me I almost went nuts, although since he did eat me once I stayed sane even if not fulfilled.

The next day Jim and Don decided that they wanted to go on an overnight guided hunting trip. The rest of us had no interest in that so we stayed around most of the day although Phil and Kathy did go out hiking for a while and Jen and I swam with wetsuits on. That night after dinner I got tired -- swimming really took it out of my pregnant ass -- so I left the other three in the lodge's bar and ambled toward bed. When Phil kissed me he mumbled "No more than one beer for me, Hon."

I tried to read in bed but was dropping the book so I turned off the light and was soon in dreamland.

Except that I didn't dream; instead I had a premonition.

When I woke up to pee about 1 a. m. Phil was still not back in the room. I got dressed and went looking for him. He, Jen, and Kathy were not in the lodge. I walked past Don and Jen's cabin; the bedroom window was open and even though no interior lights were on in the moon light I could clearly see Jen in bed.

I next walked to Jim and Kathy's cabin where the bedroom window was also open and a low bedside lamp was on. To my great distress Kathy was riding Phil cowgirl style while he was massaging her mammaries. They were mumbling to each other but much of their speech was slurred, indicating at least some level of inebriation. I took several photos with my iPhone, making sure to get good views of both of their faces, and a short video.

My pregnancy hormones started to swell so I got out of there before completely breaking down crying. I packed most of my stuff and went to the lodge, trying to rein in my tears. On my smartphone I had found a Skywest/Delta flight from Billings to Chicago that left at 5:45 a. m. with one stop that would get into Chicago O'Hare airport by about 11:00 a. m. I wasn't going to inconvenience Don, Jen and Jim by taking the small RV so I begged one of the fisherman telling tall tales to his friends in the lodge to give me a ride the roughly 75 miles to the Billings, Montana airport. He was kind enough to agree as long as I drove there so that he could sober up in time for his ride back. At the airport I gave him $100 and a kiss -- he seemed to go away happy.

I was able to keep my sobbing under control at the airport. I had about two hours to think before they called my flight. I only came to a few conclusions during that time but the timeliest one was to send an email to both Phil and Kathy's phones as soon as my flight was called. To the email I attached the most graphic photo I had taken of their little tryst. The text of the email had just one word: "Assholes!" Then I turned off my phone.

Once I turned my phone back on when I got home around 1 p. m. I saw missed calls from both Kathy and Phil. My discussion with Phil could wait until he got back; I needed more information from Kathy right now and I had great leverage over her. I called her and she answered on the first ring.

"Amy, I'm so sorry, I don't know what happened I just got so blitzed..." she started ranting before I said the first word.

"Shut the fuck up, slut!" I yelled into the phone. "I don't want to hear your bullshit so don't say another word unless it's an honest response to a question. Got it?"

In response I got a meek "Yes."

"I know more than you think that I do by going through Phil's phone which he so conveniently left in our room," I started out. That was a lie, but I was willing to bet that she wouldn't take the chance that it was. "If you answer my questions honestly I will not send the photos and video that I have to Jim; but one lie and they go out this afternoon; clear?"

Another meek "Yes."

"How long have you been fucking Phil?"

"Ah...since you were about four months pregnant -- two months or so," she replied so softly that I almost couldn't hear her.

"How many times?"

"Once or twice a week, maybe," another barely audible response.

"Where?"

"Mostly at my condo during the middle of the day."

"Why?"

"I...I...I always liked Phil and I couldn't resist him when he said you were no longer interested in sex once you were three months pregnant; I'm really sorry," she responded and then started sobbing. "I...I can't stop being a slut."

I knew that everything she said had to be true (except, of course, for the lie Phil told her about me not wanting sex); it was not to her benefit to tell me everything knowing that I'd probably never speak to her again. She was just trying to prevent Jim from finding out.

"I believe you; therefore I will not now be sending what I have to Jim. However, if he ever asks me a question where the information I have is relevant I WILL honestly answer him. Also, do not ever, ever, speak to me again. Don't text me, email me, or call me; nothing. If you do then Jim's email gets tickled immediately -- got it?" I screamed.

I think that I heard "Yes" before I terminated the call.

I was surprisingly calm after hearing one of my bridesmaids confess to fucking my husband a dozen times or so, but I decided that at least for now I would keep my promise not to send what I had to Jim. I wondered whether it would come out anyway -- I'm sure that Don and Jim would want an explanation as to why I took off, and I'm betting that the rest of the vacation was not going to be as pleasant as it had been.

Now -- what to do about Phil?

The first thing that I did was to email all of my photos and the short video to Anita Hall, a family law attorney that I was very friendly with through the health club that we went to. I asked her to make and retain suitable copies in a number of different forms of media. Then I did a little research on family law in Illinois and found out that "irreconcilable differences" was the only reason for divorce, although adultery could play a part in the irreconcilability of the differences. I also checked out typical custody arrangements, what to do with assets before division, etc., and once I had prepped myself called Anita to get any information that I could about nuances.

I was a little surprised when Phil showed up the next day -- obviously he felt that damage control required quick action so he didn't want to stay for the rest of the vacation. He also had flown home from Billings, probably on the same flight that I had but a day later. I had had time to move his shit into the guest bedroom, but not to do everything else that I had intended to do.

************

At least Phil didn't insult me by using drinking as an excuse -- he knew that that would set me off -- and he did appear chagrined. He had only a small hope of preventing me from divorcing his ass, however.

After ten minutes of apologies where I just sat staring at him, with small tears in each of our eyes, he asked "What can I do to save our marriage, Babe?"

After a pregnant pause -- including a kick in my belly from the little rascal inside me -- I replied "It's your fuck up, not mine. Just like the situation before we were married where your drunken ass was feeling up that bitch in PRYSM Nightclub you need to come up with a solution. I'll give you three chances to submit an acceptable proposal, and if none are to my liking then I'll file for divorce. In the meantime if you plan to stay here you're on your own for all meals. Also, you should know that my attorney Anita Hall has frozen all of our accounts except checking and you need to sign an agreement that she'll be emailing you not to take more than $500 a week out of it. The mortgage and utilities will still automatically be paid, but nothing else." With that I got up, got in my car, and went to the health club to do preggo-approved exercises for a couple of hours before I made myself dinner.