First what you ask. Could he mean the first time he had a crush on a girl, or maybe even the first time he ever fell in love. Possibly he means his first kiss. Well, no. The answer is slightly more up the sexual ladder than that. Now if I had been born a girl then I would probably still remember my first kiss in every detail, but I don't, mainly because i'm a guy. And growing up with those male raging hormones I, like most, was more interested in reaching the next rung of that ladder. Sex is more often compared to a baseball game. The players, men, in a hurry quite happy to skip first base and steal second, or third, or dare I say it Home Plate. The umpires, women, make sure that the proper rules are followed and that each base is touched in its proper order. Anyways the last thing that you want to do is make a play for third get caught and be booted out of the game altogether.

This story is very difficult to write, you would think it would be easy since it really happened and all the details just have to be written down, but no, it isn't. First there's the little problem that the wrong person might actually read it, like my Mother, or my Sister (who I have already shown anyways), or the Pope in Rome. I've been spending quite some time in my room writing lately and my family is probably becoming suspicious. I don't know if the Pope is aware of my scribbling and frankly I don't care.

Of course another person i don't really want to read this would be the girl the story is about. And why would that be you say. She was there wasn't she. Yes she most certainly was, and no it's not like I was spying on her through an open window or using binoculars to watch someone 300 feet away while I had my hand down my pants. Was it a horrible experience for her, one she wouldn't want to be reminded of, I don't know, I never asked her anything about her memories of that moment. No the reason I don't want her to read this will be revealed as the story comes (no pun here) to its conclusion. I can't give it away at the beginning now can I. Without foreplay, where's the fun.

I also don't want my family to know the girls identity, but since I already told my Sister and she said it was okay i'm now going to include it here. She was my cousin.

When I first saw her that morning, now you see, I almost jumped the gun already and believe me that's not a problem I generally have. No, i've seen her on many occasions before but then again I really hadn't. Pretty, young, well younger than me anyways, full of life (not that I ever noticed) she would come over and mainly talk with my Sister. I usually ignored her. What a putz I was back then, too self involved to notice those around me. Most teenagers have this affliction though, so I won't beat myself up too much.

But back to that morning. I was doing some work to our trailer, attempting to weld it in the garage. I was kneeling on the floor when I saw a car pull in the driveway. Soon two women were getting out. I had already been told of their impending arrival and the fact I was in the garage in my work clothes showed just how much I cared about that. The woman on the driver's side waived at me.

"Hi Robbie."

She smiled before going in to see my Mother. I'm sure I smiled back while wishing I could just finish my work. The woman on the passenger side had gotten a bag out of the back and I couldn't yet fully make her out. Long blonde hair, taller than I remember (course I was still kneeling and this may have affected my judgement), I couldn't help thinking that can't be who I thought it was, it must be someone else. The wind which had been a little breasy all morning picked up slightly and had fun tossling her hair. I remember wishing I could do that but was pretty sure if I asked, whoever she was, would say no.

As she made her way towards me I could now make her out more clearly. It was her afterall. I couldn't believe how much she changed. I also couldn't believe she was smiling in my direction. I wondered if someone had set up a circus behind me and almost had to look. If only I could take my eyes off of her.

"Hi cousin."

She said hi to me, she achnowledged my existance. Things were really looking up (no pun here either after all i'm still kneeling). I went to stand up and quickly stopped. Oh, I see, so the circus was here afterall and they were busy setting up tent in my pants. I couldn't move, I was stuck and she was still moving towards me. What do I do? Ignore her, show no interest in her as she stands right in front of you with those long legs of hers which you can almost see all of with the loose skirt she was wearing. I had to get up, I mean, what could she be thinking with me still kneeling in front of her, that I was going to propose to her? I don't think so. Putz comes to mind.

I then realized I had two problems. If I stood up yes she might see the bulge in my jeans but that took second place to a more painful predicament. Somehow, for unknown reasons, while I was working things down there had, and how should I put this, taken a wrong turn at Albuquerque and had actually become trapped while trying to escape from the confines of my shorts. Standing was ill advised unless an adjustment could be made and I don't think she would care to watch me do that now would she.

"What do you mostly work on out here?"

She said this while moving around to the far side of the trailer. Now was my chance. I quickly adjusted myself by getting a handle on the situation (okay, obvious pun here) and was able to stand up.

"Cars mostly, a few bikes."

God she was beautiful, why hadn't I noticed that before. Because i'm an idiot, that's why. She had now circled the trailer and was again standing in front of me. She was still smiling at me, probably at the dirt on my nose which I wouldn't find till later.

"Where's your Sister?"The leggy beautiful blonde asked me.

"Probably in the house."

My heart was now sinking, I knew she was about to leave.

"Talk to you later."

As she left I think I came to my first big conclusion in life. Girls were more fun than trailers. Unless of course you could combine the two, now that would be more fun. To hell with it, I went in the house.