"So..." Alice said that night, when we lay naked together post-coitus, "you know those two guys that showed up a few days ago? With the van?"

She was laying on her stomach, propped up on her elbows, affording me a wonderful view of her diminutive naked breast hanging down.

"Yeah," I answered, staring. "What're their names? 'Captain America' and--"

"He was in Vietnam, I think," she said. "The other guy is 'Superman.' I think he just did too many drugs."

"Seems about right."

"Anyway," she continued, "Starfire says they're leaving for California tomorrow."

"Really?" My heart sunk, at the prospect that Alice might be gone in just a few hours.

"Yeah. She says that they said we can hitch a ride." She paused, looking at me.

"Are you gonna?" was all I could muster. I wanted to shout, "Don't go!," but it seemed a little selfish to make her stay, just for me.

"Do you think I should?" she asked, looking right in my eyes. Before I was able to come up with some sort of answer, she continued talking. "College starts in two weeks, but Starfire says 'Fuck college!'"

"Hmm..." was my lame reply.

"But my mom would be really disappointed in me if I don't go to college, you know?"

"Yeah..."

"What do you think?" she asked me.

"I want to spend ever second of the next two weeks with you, Alice," I answered.

"Oh, Daddy!" she said, sliding up and laying her head on my chest.

"But I know this is what you guys wanted to do when you got here, and I don't want to hold you back..."

"All I want is to have fun. And it's really fun here."

"Good."

"So you want me to stay?"

"I do! But only if you want to."

"I do! Starfire says I'm a total square for wanting to stay and go to college. She's going to go with them, even without me."

"She is? She might want to be careful. We don't really know those guys."

"They seem cool. And she's a big girl."

"True. Hey, I have an idea."

"What?"

"When it's time for you to go back to school, Rachel and I should drive you there."

"Really?!? That would be so awesome!" And she kissed me on the cheek.

The next morning, I joined Emily Richter for our usual breakfast--a cup of coffee in the kitchen. She didn't seem to be quite as chipper this morning, which I interpreted to mean she was tried from a night of her newfound fun with her husband.

"How did it go with John last night?" I asked her, teasingly. "Alice and I figured we'd leave you two lovebirds alone, so you could enjoy each other."

"Oh. Well..." she said, pausing before continuing, "I don't think he likes that very much."

"Really? I said. "It seemed like he liked it a lot."

"Let's just say, I think he likes it when Alice does it, you know? What was it she said? 'You really like fucking teenage pussy,'" Emily sarcastically mimicked Alice's words from a couple days ago, "'don't you, mister Richter?'"

"I'm really sorry to hear that, Em," I said. "But don't be mad at Alice, it's not her fault."

"Don't get me wrong, I really like Alice. I know she was just trying to help us out. It's just, young girls have no idea what they do to men, you know?"

I nodded, knowing even better than Emily could imagine.

"I mean, she's already stolen your heart. It'd be nice if she didn't steal John's, too."

I felt a little guilty about that. "Alice will be leaving for school in a couple weeks," I said, lamely, "and then--"

"Oh, I'm just being selfish," she interrupted me. "You deserve to be happy. You deserve to fall in love with someone--someone who's not already married. You should get married yourself, you know. Have some kids. You'll make a great father."

"I'm not sure marriage and family is my bag..." I said.

She gave me an understanding smile. "Marriage is a lot of work. Like, the 'going back to school' thing--that's actually why I'm in such a bad mood right now. John told me last night that he wants to go back to Berkeley and finish his PhD."

"Really?" I said, genuinely surprised. "That's... I think that's a good idea. His talents are clearly being wasted making drugs for a bunch of smelly hippies."

"Yeah, sure. But I'm just starting to feel settled here, for the first time in years." Emily looked very unhappy. "Shit, I just applied for a job at the library in town."

"You did? I didn't know--"

"They had a sign up, so I figured, what the hell, why not? They interviewed me on the spot. I think they're going to hire me."

"Emily, that's awesome!"

"But I'm more worried about Rachel. We enrolled her in the local elementary school, you know. Met with her teacher and everything. What am I supposed to do now, tell her 'Whoops! Just kidding! You're not going to Jefferson, we're leaving town and we don't have anywhere to live and fuck if I know what school you'll be going to, or when?' That's just not fair to her. She's finally happy here, feeling settled. She deserves some continuity in her life, for fuck's sake."

"Emily," I said, leaning forward and looking at her with heavy sincerity, "you and Rachel can stay here. You know you can. I consider this your home. John can go and get his PhD and come back--"

Her eyes were shining. She looked like she might be happy for the first time in the entire conversation. "Brian, you are the sweetest guy."

"I'm totally serious. This is your home."

"I told John, I told him that he should look for a program here. Syracuse maybe, or Buffalo, or even Columbia or NYU. I told him I didn't want to make Rachel go all the way back to California. But he's hell-bent on Berkeley. He's already talked with his advisor, who totally wants him back. So... so can we really stay here? That's actually what John suggested."

"Of course you can."

"It's not a divorce," sounding more like she was trying to convince herself, than me. "We're not getting divorced."

"No, of course not."

"I still love him, and he loves me. Or so he says. It'll just be a year, maybe, or two, and he'll come back here for Christmas and whenever. And when he gets his degree, then we'll figure out what to do from there."

"That sounds good, Emily. It sounds like a plan."

"One other thing... Rachel doesn't know about this yet."

"Got it. I won't mention it."

She reached across the table and took my hand. "Thank you so much, Brian, for everything you do. This really means the world to me."

I heard two guitars in Alice's room, playing what sounded vaguely like "All Along the Watchtower," while I pitched in with kitchen-cleaning after a hippy-commune lunch that day. Feeding thirty people is a challenge. And it makes a mess.

But by the time I finally got upstairs, one guitar was lying, now silent, on Rachel's bed, and the other guitar was being held in what might be best described as a tight hug by a certain adorable ten year old girl, whose big blue eyes were looking up at me. I knew this pose of hers, and this look, well enough by now. It meant she was nervous about something.

Suspecting that her parents might have already told her about their plans and that she wanted to talk about it, and maybe even give me some bad news--like that she'd rather go to Berkeley with her dad than to stay here--I decided that I needed to give her an opening to bring it up. So I sat down next to her on the bed and, as casually as I could, I ventured, "Your mom told me that you met your teacher, at Jefferson."

"Yeah," Rachel answered. "She seems nice."

That struck me as a somewhat ambiguous reply. So I doubled down. "Are you excited about going back to school?"

Now she gave me a little smile. "Yeah, I think it'll be fun." Well, that at least alleviated my biggest concern--she apparently wasn't going to tell me that she was dumping me to go to Berkeley with her dad. I even suspected that it meant that she didn't know anything yet about their plans, and when she added, "I hope she's a good teacher," I felt even more strongly that my initial explanation for her nervousness was wrong.

"I'm sure she is," I said.

Rachel smiled again through her nervousness. "She won't be as good as you, though."

"Me?" I said, confused about what she meant.

"Yeah, you. The guitar, right? You're teaching me--"

"Oh!" I felt a little dumb that I hadn't understood what she meant. "As to that, I just have a really good student who practices a lot."

Now she gave me a genuine dimple-cheeked smile. "I keep telling Alice that she needs to practice more."

"See? You're not just a good student, you're a good teacher, too!"

Now, a genuine laugh. "I guess Alice isn't as good of a student!"

"I guess not! I'll make sure she knows that she can borrow my guitar whenever she wants."

"She knows!" A giggle now. "She says she has you wrapped around her little finger!"

"Does she really say that?" I laughed as Rachel nodded. "She's crazy. If anything, she's wrapped around my finger!"

Rachel giggled some more. "I don't think so! She says it's easy to get guys wrapped around your finger. She says I already got you around mine, too." She held up her pinkie finger, grinning.

"Maybe so," I said. I reached out and hooked her pinkie in mine.

"Well, if I do," she said, our pinkies still hooked, "it's all because of her. She might not be a good guitar student, but she's a really good teacher, about some stuff at least."

"I agree." I moved my hand so that all of our fingers were interlocked. "Yesterday was... really fun."

She grinned, dimpled cheeks blushing. "I could tell you liked it!" Her face took on a more serious affect. "This morning, I asked her if she would teach me about having sex, too."

"Oh?"

"She said that she'd answer any questions I have, but that you should be my teacher."

Damn, I really like Alice. What a good answer. "I'd really like that," I said. Alice might have thought that my answer wasn't enthusiastic enough, but she'd approve. "I'll answer any questions you have, too."

She gave a coy smile, looking down but with her eyes up and on me. "They're mostly the kind of questions that only a girl could answer."

"Like what?"

"Like, I asked her if it hurts, the first time. I've heard it hurts."

"What'd she say?"

"She says it hurts a little, but it's no big deal. And she says she doesn't mind if it hurts, because it means that you're having fun."

"Wow," was all I could say, being stunned to near silence by that answer.

"Then I asked her if she thought you would fit, because... because yours is so big, and mine is so little." I nodded. The thought had definitely occurred to me. "But she said that vaginas can stretch a lot, so that even a cock that's lots bigger can fit. She said that it feels really good, to be stretched open. It's her favorite thing about sex. And she said it'll feel really good for you, too. That guys really like stretching open a little pussy like mine."

"Yeah..."

"What do you think?" she asked. "Do you think it'll fit?"

"I think we could try. And if it hurts, we could just stop."

"I don't care if it hurts. I want to be brave, like Alice was, her first time."

"If you promise to be brave, I promise I'll be gentle. I'll try not to hurt you."

She looked up at me with those big baby blue puppy-dog eyes. "Okay. I promise."

"Rachel," I said softly, unlocking our fingers that we'd held together through the entire conversation, then gently prying away thew guitar which she still clung to like it was a shield protecting her from what was about to come. I set the guitar aside, slipped an arm around her, and leaned into her and kissed her. "I... I..." I stammered. "Rachel, I think I'm in love with you." I finally blurted out what I knew had been true for weeks.

She nodded, a hint of a little smile on her bright red face. "I'm in love with you, too, Brian."

I wrapped my arms around her and gave her a kiss. "If you want to wait--"

"I don't wanna wait."

"If you want me to stop--"

"I don't want you to stop. I don't ever want you to stop."

"But just tell me, okay? If you want me to stop, or slow down, or--"

She give me the sweetest smile ever. "What if I want to tell you to hurry up?"

I laughed, and Rachel giggled. I was glad for her little joke; until then, the tension between us was so thick that you could cut it with a knife. "That's not something I hear from most girls!" I said, laughing some more. "Most girls tell me to slow down!"

Rachel grinned. "What about Alice? Does she tell you to slow down?"

"No, I don't remember her ever saying that."

"That's because Alice isn't like most girls."

"No, she definitely isn't."

"I don't want to be like most girls, either. I want to be like Alice!"

I laughed. "Well then, let's see..." I said, making a playful, thoughtful face. "I think Alice likes it when I kiss her pussy, before we have sex."

"That sounds nice!"

I kissed Rachel again, gently pushing her down onto the bed while our tongues touched each other. Then I began a determined, methodical, and rapid descent--she did say she wanted me to hurry up, right??--kissing down her body while simultaneously removing articles of clothing from both her and me. First, her shirt was pulled over her head and my lips landed on a nipple, and the little ten year old hussy arched her back in excited response. Then down, my lips on her belly while my fingers fumbled at the buttons of both of our pants. Then pants down, panties and underwear down, both of us kicking them off of our feet, then man and girl naked, engorged cock thick and stiff as a tree trunk, thin coltish legs spreading, spreading, little Rachel opening for her man, giving him access to her pussy. Giving away her pussy.

Crouching between her legs now, I kissed, and licked, and kissed and licked, the little girl squirming and mewling as my tongue made love to her. I lapped at the tangy fresh flavor of her sex, I teased her shy clitty until she stood out erect and wanton, I licked again the tight skin of her hymen, and as I did, she lifted her hips, grinding her pussy into my face and offering her girlhood to me.

And now I knew it was time. I knew that she was ready. I rose up, gripping my cock with one hand, and moved on top of her. She looked up at me with those big beautiful blue eyes and a sweet little scared smile, her face shining bright, spreading her legs even wider to telegraph her absolute acceptance of what was to come. Holding myself above her with one arm, I directed my cock down until I felt my head against her little slit. He tingled with excitement at her warmth as I rubbed up and down, gently parting her lips.

My cock was screaming in my brain, "Let me in! Shove me in! Fuck the little slut right now!" But I was the very vision of restraint, not just for her comfort, but for my own enjoyment; I wanted this moment, the last few seconds of Rachel's virginity, and her openness and willingness to let me take it, to last forever.

Still sliding up and down along her lips, I pushed in deeper with each downward motion, then up, my head rubbing up her clit until the tip of her bulb and my hole met, and she shook and moaned, and then back down, pushing in. Finally I'd had enough of this foreplay, and gripping tightly to my shaft, I pushed into her vagina. She turned her head to the side, squinting her eyes shut tight. But her hymen didn't yield, not to my first concerted assault; I loosed my pressure, then redoubled. She let out a painful groan, but still the membrane held. For my third advance, I gripped my cock tightly and lifted myself from my knees, only my toes and hand holding me above her, all the rest of the weight of my large frame focused entirely on the tip of my cockhead pressing hard against the taut skin of her maidenhood. This is when I saw that she was crying, tears falling from her squinted-shut eyes. But she was silent now, stoically accepting of her fate, and finally, as I held myself hard against her stout little hymen, it gave up its defense. My super-stimulated head, on fire and tuned to every sensation, felt the flesh begin to rend, and I pushed in even harder as the little girl silently cried beneath me. The tip of my head pressed into the tear, and I knew I had won the battle, the membrane finally parting enough to allow my crown to pass through, and I was in.

Poor little Rachel was crying still, sobbing, and I pulled back, intending to stop. I didn't want to hurt her anymore. But as my cockhead retreated through the remains of her childhood, I couldn't leave. My cock was doing the thinking for us now, and he didn't care that the little girl was crying; he only wanted to go back in. And so I pushed in once more until my head passed through the torn flesh, holding myself there for a moment before reversing course again, pulling out until only the tip of my cock was inside her, then in again, and out, and in, not going any deeper, just fucking the entrance to her vagina, once guarded by her hymen but now stretching open in acceptance of me.

Finally I delved deeper, and deeper still, sliding the full length of my cock in and out of her tiny vagina. I lay down on her, and kissed away her tears, and told her that I loved her and that she was beautiful and wonderful and perfect (Alice would have been proud of me!), and she smiled up at me and said that she loved me, too. And we held each other in the tight embrace of lovers, kissing and petting, panting in rhythm together, in rhythm with each forward thrust of my hips, joining together as one between her legs. Her sex was flowing now and both of us were experiencing the excitement, the magic, the mutual pleasure, of our love.

My orgasm was almost an afterthought. I didn't even care; the whole experience was so thrilling, so beautiful, that cumming inside her was just a natural occurrence, my semen flowing out of me and bathing her immature womb as I slid in and out of her. And I didn't stop after I came; I just continued making slippery sloppy love to her as my cock softened until eventually I slipped out and rolled over to her side. And then we held each other and kissed and whispered our love.

An hour later, once we'd recovered our breath and our normal heart rate, we dressed and took our guitars down to the pond, and played and sang together while naked hippies danced. Eventually we set down our guitars and the hippies dispersed and we lay down together in the grass in the sunshine.