



The leftover twine we kept to play with. We would play jump rope by ourselves or use it communally. It was a lot of fun. One night, a different cousin, a boy cousin, a couple of years younger than me, was eating dinner at my grandmother's. I was living there with my dad at the time in one of the extra bedrooms in the giant house. The adults were in the living room talking and drinking and smoking, and I was playing with my cousin in my room. We were playing a Donkey Kong game on my awesome Super Nintendo. I had my legs slightly spread on the side of the bed where we were sitting in order to be closer to the TV. Out of nowhere, the little fucker puts his controller down and rests his hand on my crotch. I don't remember if I was wearing pants or a skirt, but I remember the shock that went through my body. At first I didn't know what to do, so I kept on playing the game as if there wasn't a younger family member's hand on my pussy. I think this made him think it was okay to keep it there, and he gained boldness and began to almost imperceptibly rub up and down. My shock very quickly disappeared and I began to give in to my feelings. It felt good. It was the first time a boy had touched me and the memory still turns me on to this day. He didn't go any further, just some light rubbing over the covered pussy while looking dead ahead at the TV. I'm quite sure he was barely breathing because he was so shocked I wasn't telling him to fuck off.





I, however, did go further.





I saved my game and told him we should play a different game. Of course, as soon as I said a word he quickly removed his hand from my pussy, as if I hadn't noticed. We got up and I gathered some of the extra twine my grandma had discarded and stored in the dog's room. (Yes, the dog got a whole room, that's how big this house is.) We go back to my room and, for some reason, I begin to tie him up. I tell him to sit down on the ground with his back leaning toward the bedpost. He graciously does as he is told. I come up with some rudimentary knot and basically use the twine knot on him like I'm patching up the end of a frayed rope, except he is the rope. It was the worst knot of all time, but the idea was there--I didn't want him to go anywhere. After I pretty much covered my poor cousin in dried twine, I step back to look at my handiwork. He looked like a meaty taquito glued to the bedpost. Of course, I'm still horny from him having cupped my pussy for about 15 minutes. I suppose what happened next was as confusing for me then as it still is to this day. I straddled his stretched out legs and begin to rub myself on him. I'm rubbing my covered pussy all over his thighs, hugging him and squeezing him against me with my arms, breathing hard. I wouldn't necessarily call it dry humping, but I was basically mimicking a cat in heat. I don't think he knew what was happening to him. I didn't know what was happening to me. All I knew is that I needed to rub myself on something, and I chose my cousin. I rubbed my pussy on him and squeezed him with abandon for about 30 minutes then I heard the sound of dishes being washed which meant the adults were up and about, so I quickly untied him and turned on the Super Nintendo again.





As a follow up to this story, the little asshole told his mom. My aunt approached me a week later and boldly asked me "did you make love to your cousin the other day?" Those exact words. "Make love." Really? She was my least favorite aunt to begin with. Anyway, I lied and said no, denying it every time she asked.





And that is my first sexual experience involving rope. Also, my first sexual experience with a boy.









Growing up in Spain in the early 90's, not many people had electric dryers for laundry, especially not my grandparents. My grandfather owned a still in business bakery in the south of Spain. The bakery was very large, and situated in the ground floor of a 3 story house in the middle of town. When my grandmother did laundry, she would hang out the clothes to dry in the very large azotea upstairs in the living quarters. It was pretty much an elevated courtyard covered in brick with a few covered spaces for storage. My cousin and I would go to the azotea after lunch and play on the twine, hanging off it like a couple of retarded monkeys. One time, our weight was too much for one of the lines to hold us and it broke. Ever since then, my grandmother switched from twine to wire.