Her grandparents lived round the corner and She came over to spend Her summer holidays there. I can’t remember Her name, but I do remember Her face and the leather cowboy hat She wore. I adored Her, looked up to Her; She looked so cool and so different in some sort of way. I was ten years old, She was fifteen. One day the neighbourhood Girls got steamed up over something and started chasing the boys. We ran like chickens and the Cowgirl came after me. She was fast and strong and I didn’t stand a chance. She pinned me down on the grass and I started screaming for help. Heroism is only skin deep, you see. I’m pretty sure that’s the reason why She decided to sit down on my face; just to shut me up. It was terribly humiliating to gasp for air after a while, but it felt sensational. I actually begged Her to do it again, which became a never-ending joke in the neighbourhood. So my first facesit happened purely accidental, but it still leaves me breathless.