In my youth, my family became apiarist or honey farmers. Within that time we found out about a local bee association. And that's when my siblings and I realized our summers were not our summers anymore.

For Many summers after, the first year my family started helping out at the State Fair with the Beekeepers Association. My dad had gotten involved with the other beekeepers, and I went with my parents often, so the other members gave me the nickname “Honey Gal.” I was also known around the fairgrounds as the "Caring Angel" when we went during the fall.

When we arrived at the fair the first time, some of the members had already gotten there and had set things up, so we didn't have a lot left to do. My parents knew me too well since I would walk neighborhood blocks and greet people or help out others.

Because I wasn't needed at the time, and with my parents' approval I wandered around the inside of the building meeting some of the other vendors. They were all nice and considerate, making sure I wasn't lost.

I even found out that the gentleman who managed the building was a beekeeper and a very good friend of my dad, which meant he and I got to see each other often, even as I got older.

After a few years of going to the fair, I decided to enter the baking competition using honey. I knew I was going against a lot of others as well as one of my brothers. After we got there, my brother and I placed our trays next to each other. I wasn't worried at the time because there were others and I was only doing it for fun—and the prize money, of course, if I placed!

The next morning, my brothers and parents took off to wherever they were going. My mom had asked me again why I didn't want to come along, and I told her I would wait around a bit longer at the camper I knew they were going to be judging that morning.

Around lunch time I was getting hungry, so I decided to leave our camper and go check out the vendors. Charlie, who was one of the Beekeepers, had told me that a new solo musician was playing this year at the fair. I remember hearing “Ah, Ah, Ah” previously, which must have been the singer practicing.

I was walking to the agriculture building when a person crying caught my attention.

“Why would someone be crying?” I wondered.

I found out that it was the young music lady. I noticed that she had a pad of paper, a pen, and a guitar. I asked her why she was so upset. I was puzzled because she looked like she was about to take the guitar off and throw it.

I quickly went to her, saying, "Please, I heard you just over there. What's wrong, hon?”

She looked up at me and said, “You're the caring angel. I've heard about and seen you."

I let a chuckle out, saying, “Is that my name this fall? Caring Angel?”

She told me, “My name is Fran, and I'm the niece of the new CEO of the fair. He is my uncle, Shawn.

I said, "I know your uncle, my dad, and he met briefly and I was with them. She said he said I could try my songs here, but I don't have many to share. I'm so nervous and my mind has gone blank.”

Now, Fran, who was a few years older than me, started crying again.

Placing my arms around her, I hugged her, saying, “It will pass. Your mind is just blocked, right?”

Then I started rubbing her back, and whispered to her, “You are such a talented music artist! I have always dreamed of being a singer and musician like you.”

As I continued rubbing her with my hands, I said, “Calm down and focus on your breathing. There, there now."

I then asked, “Why the tears, Princess?”

My hands were rubbing up and down her back and shoulders, trying to soothe her.

At last, I moved in front of her and said, “Come with me, Fran, I have an idea.”

We walked together onto the stage that she was about to perform on. There was no one yet on the stage.

I told her to take a deep breath again and close her eyes. Then I told her to see the audience in her mind.

“Now, use your senses,” I told the beautiful girl.

As Fran closed her eyes, I took her to various parts of the stage, saying, "Open them and see the audience feel their presence. Now close them." As we continued with Fran in position, I told her, “Now open them.”

Standing in front of her, I took a bold step toward her and said, "What do you see?"

As I did, I moved my hands up to her cheeks and held her face. Looking in her beautiful eyes I told her, “Because I see a beautiful musician and singer who needs more loving.”

Fran was so pretty, I thought. My body told me I needed her, needed her next to my body, needed her to love and kiss. I wanted to touch her beautiful breasts and taste her pussy and have her do the same to me! My arousal was so strong that despite my fears, I made my move.

Stepping close enough to touch her body, I moved in to kiss her, putting my arms around her. She tried to pull away.

“Fran, I see the fear in your eyes. You want this as well. You need someone to hold you. To caress you. To mold your breast in their hands,” I told her as I looked deep into her eyes.

We kissed again, this time for real as she gave in to her passion. We kissed for a while, her lips soft, then hard against mine as her passion rose. Her boobs were pressed hard against mine, teasing me with their promise. I had to make my move again.

I started to raise her shirt, but she stopped me. I needed her so much, so I whispered, “Fran, it is okay. It is just us. May I touch you, Princess?"

Fran relented, and I ran my hands over her firm globes. I squeezed and caressed them, then played with her nipples, rolling them in my fingers, just how I liked it myself.

“Oh, Fran, these are magnificent!” I told her. Fran moaned as I played with her breasts and pulled on her nipples.

Finally, Fran says, “I have never known anyone so caring before."

I had to tell her the truth. "To be honest, I have never touched a female before." Taking her hands, I said, “Now it's your turn.”

She placed her hands on me, under my top, sliding my bra up for access. She was hesitant at first but was soon enjoying our touching. As she felt me up and down, I felt electric with pleasure. I was getting wet down below as she caressed and pulled my nipples like I was doing to her. I saw the desire in her eyes for my body.

Taking it further, I whispered, “Open your mouth. I want you to let me taste the inside of yours.”

Fran willingly opened her mouth and we French kissed. She pulled my body tight against her, our breasts touching and being touched.

After an eternity, our mouths parted and I whispered to her, “I need you, Princess. I want to make love to you. After your performance, I want to meet you so we can do to each other what we can’t do now. Think of me as you sing. Think of me and forget your worries, hon.”

Fran put her head on my shoulder and replied, “I will, Angel. I will. I want you, too. I want to make love with you. I have never wanted to make love to a girl before until I met you, but now I want to. Kiss me before you go, Angel.”

And so I did.