Izumi's Melons

This story graphically depicts erotic lactation, adult breastfeeding, and lesbian sex . It is also a work of fiction. Any resemblance of the characters to actual persons, living or dead, is coincidental. All characters in this story are above the age of eighteen.

Izumi's Melons

The droning and perpetual ZZZzzzZZZzzzZZZzzzzzz of the summertime cicadas can lull one into deep hypnosis. As can the oppressive humidity of the Japanese countryside. Especially after a jetlag-inducing twelve-hour flight from LA followed immediately by a three-and-a-half-hour train ride from Tokyo.

Such was Missy's state at her final destination, the small city of Fukui, Japan, or rather, in the countryside far on the outskirts of Fukui.

The heat and the wall of humidity had hit her hard when she stepped off the train onto the empty and sunbaked platform. She looked to her left and right and saw that she was the only one getting off. And the only one, it seemed, at the station at all.

Spending two weeks in the rural Japanese countryside wasn't Missy's plan for her summer after graduating high school. But not having taken any initiative of her own to plan anything, her mom did it for her, getting the idea after a surprise phone call from a long-time friend from her hometown.

Although Missy was born in Tokyo, Japan had long not been a home for her. Her parents brought her to Los Angeles when she was ten, and she hadn't been back to Japan since. She's been so far removed from Japan that she didn't even go by her real name, 'Mitsuki', anymore, not since the 4th grade, when her teacher mispronounced her name as 'Missy'. She learned then that it was not an unusual nickname for an American girl. That's what all her friends called her since, and eventually, upon her insistence, even her parents.

Her mom always talked enthusiastically about her hometown. She showed Missy photographs of a quaint little sea-side town on a rugged coast, photos of the farm she grew up on, just on the outskirts, where they grew melons and grape, and raised silkworms for silk, and of her and her friends climbing tall bamboo in the bamboo forests. An idyllic childhood, for sure, but Missy, who long considered herself a city girl (an LA girl, to be specific), wasn't too thrilled about the rural life. But her parents agreed to bankroll this trip, and she kept in mind that this was an opportunity to finally get a glimpse into her mother's life in the old country. How often do those opportunities present themselves?

She flapped the front of her already dampened t-shirt to cool off and wiped the sweat that beaded her forehead as she looked around for the woman that would pick her up. Her name was Izumi. Missy didn't know much about her and only vaguely what she looked like, she also realized she had lacked the foresight to get her phone number, so there was no way of contacting her now. Missy wasn't worried though, seeing that she was the only one on the platform and certainly looking like a fish out of water, she should be easy to find.

"Mitsuki!"

Missy swung around and spotted the source of the voice, a woman that had just gotten out of her car in the station parking lot. She waved excitedly and jumped up and down. Missy waved back and walked to her, just catching her jaw from dropping when she got close enough to see that Izumi not only did not look anything like what she expected, but that she was an absolute babe. She looked young, too. Or at least, much younger than Missy imagined. And she wore daisy dukes that held on tightly to small but curvy hips and a cotton blouse tied into a crop and strained to contain breasts so generously endowed that Missy could say she felt was unwarranted (speaking as a fellow Japanese woman).

Izumi wiped her hand on her jeans. Black soil came off, streaking her already soil-streaked jeans. She stuck her hand out to shake. Missy shook it. There was still a lot of fresh soil still on it. Missy looked down on her now blackened hand and grimaced.

"I am so sorry for coming like this! I was working in the garden all morning!" Izumi said.

She took Missy's backpack off her back and threw it in the back of her small Honda. Then she turned to face Missy and grinned widely as her eyes darted all over her, drinking her in. "You've really grown up to be a gorgeous young lady, Mitsuki."

Missy blushed.

"You've seen me before?"

"Only from photos Aoki sent me."

She opened the passenger side door and motioned for Missy to sit with cheerful pats on the seat.

"Air conditioner is already blasting. Come on, let's get out of here!"

Missy got in, and she hopped in the driver's seat, and not a moment later, they were on their way.

"Aoki told me a little bit about you," Izumi said.

"Oh..."

"Don't worry, Mitsuki, only the good things. She left it to you to show me all the bad." She snickered.

"Well, I'm sure two weeks is enough time to give you the full picture."

"Indeed, it is! I'm so happy you came. I will make sure you have a very memorable experience. I owe it to your mother."

Izumi confused Missy. She doubted, for instance, that this woman could be a friend of her mom's at all. She looked so young and sexy, and her vivacious energy was the opposite of Missy's mom's more conservative disposition.

"So, how did you know my mom?"

"Aiko was like an older sister."

"Oh, I see," Missy said.

"You look confused."

"I am, sort of."

"Why?"

"You look super young."

"Thank you, Mitsuki."

"May I ask how old -?"

"Thirty."

"Oh ok. So, she was like a much, much older sister."

"Hah, I suppose so. Maybe even more like a mother, which, hey! Guess that makes us sorta like sisters! I guess Aiko didn't tell you much about me."

"Mom doesn't say a whole a lot about anyone."

Izumi laughed loudly.

"Yep, sounds like good ol' Aoki. She can be a real stone angel. But she basically raised me. I love her."

After about a twenty minutes' drive through a beautiful countryside of soft golden hills, dark forests, and lime green and yellow rice fields, they arrived at a farm, passing through an arched wooden sign with cute and colorful characters that boldly read: "Izumi's Melons".

They stepped back out into the heavy heat and the droning soundscape of the cicadas.

"This is home," Izumi said. Her arms were crossed, and a proud look was on her face, clearly showing her adoration for it.

"Wow. It's so beautiful. This is totally like Stardew Valley!"

"Is that in California?" Izumi asked.

"What? No. It's a video ga -- you know what, never mind."

The house was a traditional Japanese style, but Izumi had added her own flair to it to make it more cheerful. Sunflowers grew tall all around it, waving in the wind, brightening the yard with their cheerful yellow. The frames of the house were painted bright blue and the window frames red. The front door was green, and a heart was carved into the center of it. A wraparound porch had been built around it, in the style one might find on an American ranch style home, porch swing, screen door and all. It was an obvious after thought but fitted surprisingly well with the Japanese architecture.

"It was the house I grew up in," she said, as she hoisted Missy's backpack out of the trunk of her Honda onto her shoulders.

"Did you always live here then?" Missy asked.

"Not always. Came back two years ago actually, after living in Tokyo for most of my life."

She gasped and added, "Gosh, it's already been two years. Time sure flies, doesn't it? Anyways, come on in, let me show you around."

The house was larger than Missy imagined, and the interior was very modern and sleek, clean and minimalist like might be found in a Tokyo penthouse.

"I spent a lot of time renovating it," she explained. She gave a tour of the house, showed Missy her room for the next two weeks. Then, seeing how dogged Missy was, left her to her shower and a nap.

***

When Missy woke again, she woke to a room drenched in honey sunlight. It was late afternoon, and though the cicadas were still droning away, they were quieter, and were joined by a chorus of crickets.

She went downstairs. Heard a strange electric pumping noise coming from the living room, so she followed the strange sound and gasped and jumped when she came upon Izumi on the couch, topless, one of her tits attached to a coiling plastic tube and a machine.

She looked up and laughed seeing how bright red Missy's face got.

"Relax, Mitsuki. It's called a breast pump," she snickered. "You've never seen a breast pump?"

"Sorry, I didn't expect it."

She shrugged. "Well, I hope you get used to it. I have to express my milk quite frequently. It's a bit annoying, but it must be done."

"Ok, no problem. I didn't know you had a baby."

"I do indeed. She's in Tokyo right now with her granny. Its harvest time for my melons. It's easier for my baby to be there. Easier for me, too."

"Oh, I didn't know I was coming during harvest time. I hope I'm not inconveniencing you."

"Inconvenience? Hah! Au contraire mon ami , you are here just in time for it. You are here to partake in the great Japanese tradition of back-breaking work!"

She let out a cackle and rubbed her hands together.

"Ah, the plot thickens," Missy responded.

"You didn't think you were just going to freeload off me, did you?"

"Hmmm, somehow, I figured I would. But you know what? I don't mind. I'm happy to help."

Izumi nodded. "Yes, that is what I like to hear. Don't worry, we'll still have some fun, too."

She finished pumping. Detached her tit from the tube. A bit of milk eked out from the tip of her nipple and streamed down the curve of her breast. A thought flashed through Missy's head. A shocking, abrupt thought that she quickly shook from her head. It was a thought of how that milk might taste. She smiled uncomfortably at Izumi while Izumi snapped her bra back on as a slight and horribly unwelcome arousal caused her to shift her legs uncomfortably.

***

It was still dark the following morning when Izumi roused Missy from sleep. They had coffee on the porch, where a cool breeze came pleasantly through, and they watched the morning slowly gray the black sky until the sun eventually broke through the distant low clouds. Then, when they finished the coffee, and the sun had finished baking off the morning mist, they went to the melon field.

Missy's heart sank when she saw how big and full of melons the field was. Hopefully, she asked Izumi,

"How many people do you have working the field?"

"Well, usually I get the neighbor kids to help me out. Unfortunately, this week I can only rely on the labor that comes to me all the way from America."

"You don't happen to have any other labor coming from America beside me, do you?"

"I'm afraid not."

"Rats."

Izumi threw Missy a woven basket and as soon as Missy put the basket down, Izumi threw her a bandana, then, wrapping one around her own hair said,

"You'll be sweating a lot. You better put it on."

Before starting to pick any of the melons, they first walked the length of the field. Every now and again, Izumi would lean over and thump a tan and green melon.

"You hear this?"

She slapped a melon, and it made a 'thwock' sound.

"That means it's ripe."

She took out a pocket knife, carved into the melon and pulled out a juicy plug of orange fruit. She handed it to Missy. Missy took a bite of it and was shocked at the explosion of juicy sweetness in her mouth. It was unlike any melon she had ever tasted.

"Oh my gosh that's so tasty!"

"Mmm-hmm," Izumi replied. "The best melons you can find in Japan as far as I'm concerned."

She went to another melon to show Missy an example of an overripe one. She slapped it just as she had previous, and it made a dull 'thud'.

"That one is just past ripe. Unacceptable. Stays on the ground."

She then pointed at another, and said, "You see how it's already off the vine? Don't even bother."

"But they all look the same to me."

"My clientele has very discerning tastes. They will not accept melons that are past their prime. If you think it's wasteful, don't worry, nature will take its due course. You ready to start picking?"

"Can't wait."

***

Time slowed to a painful pace while doing the (literally) back-breaking work of plucking melons one by one off the ground and lugging them around in a basket. Just as Izumi showed her, Missy would slap the melon on the ground, she'd cut it from its vine with a knife and toss it into the basket. When the basket was filled, she'd lug it to the far end of the field, to a pick-up truck, where she'd neatly place her melons atop all the other melons that Izumi would later bring to the market.

Noon eventually broke. Izumi waved Missy over to a raised wooden platform beneath a tin-roof shade for lunch.

She had set out a small picnic there. Onigiri rice balls stuffed with salmon, sweet bean mochi, and slices of melon, straight from the field.

"Good work, today, Mitsuki!" She said and gave a high five. She removed her bandana and shook her hair loose and used the bandana to wipe her sweaty cheeks.

"It's too hot in the afternoon to work in the field, so don't worry about having to pick any more today. We'll start where we left off tomorrow morning. So, let's have lunch and relax here for a bit. Later, I want to take you somewhere very special."

After eating, she took out the breast pump from her picnic bag, and, as if it were nothing at all, she popped a breast out of her tight tank top and attached the suction head of the pump to it, centering the flange over her enlarged areola, and her rather puffy nipple.

Missy's eyes went wide, and she blushed, but couldn't stop from staring. It was too fascinating to not watch, and Izumi didn't seem to care. She wasn't shy about it at all.

The pump motor whirred on, and the suction head began sucking on her nipple and shortly, milk pattered into the attached empty bottle.

"It'll just be a few," she said. "But I need the relief. My tits are killing me."

"Does it hurt?" Missy asked, watching the machine tug and tug on her nipple. "It looks kinda painful."

"Not really. It feels nice. It's like a massage. You wanna give it a try?"

Missy shook her head vehemently. "Nope, not at all."

"Come on! Try it!" she laughed. "It'll be good practice."

"Please, no."

She shrugged. "Suit yourself."

Missy continued being mesmerized by the pump - how it pulled on Izumi's nipple, the milk squirting out to slowly fill the bottle. In truth, she did kind of want to try it. She wanted to know how it felt, the pump sucking on her boob, pulling her nipple into the flange. It turned her on. Her nipples tightened painfully thinking about it and she felt compelled to rub them to relieve the discomfort of the arousal. It became so unbearable, that she turned her back to Izumi to rub them in secret.

When Izumi was done pumping both breasts, they put the final batch of freshly picked melons into crates and lugged them to the pick-up truck.

"Now, how about that special place I wanted to show you? You still wanna go?"

"Yeah, sure."

***

Izumi took Missy on a narrow path through a bamboo forest and up the side of the mountain just behind the house. An hour later, they came upon a mountain spring that had a beautiful high view of the countryside.

From that vantage point, Missy was able to spot Izumi's house down below, and in the distance, the city of Fukui, and the rugged coastline. The sun sparkled brilliantly on the ocean, and bright cotton white clouds hung lazily like they were there to enjoy a summer day at the beach.

"Aoki used to always bring me here for a swim in the summertime when I was little."

"Oh, I didn't think to bring a swimsuit!" Missy responded with dismay.

Izumi shrugged. "That's perfect. You know why?"

"Why?"

Izumi flung off her tank top, her shorts, her bra, and her panty, and when all of it was off, she proudly put her hand on her naked hips and said, "because as queen of this mountain, I have decreed that swimsuits are banned!"

Then she tiptoed lightly into the spring.

"Ooh, it's so cold!" She cried.

She spent a moment shivering and rubbing her arms before mustering the strength to dive in. When she emerged from the water, she whipped her hair. In the sun, water splashed like sparkling diamonds.

Missy flinched when a few frigid droplets hit her.

"Come on in! It's so nice when you get used to it." Izumi shouted.

"Oh, that's ok, I think I'll just stay out here."

"How do I explain to Aiko that I brought you all the way up to our swimming pool only for you to chicken out?"

"Tell her I felt terribly uncomfortable about being forced to swim around buck naked!"

"She won't accept that answer, I'm afraid. Now come join me, or else!"

"Or else what? You'll make me pick more melons?"

She tapped her chin. "Hey, that's not a bad plan. Oh, come on, Mitsuki! I don't bite."

Missy was very shy about being naked around other people. So much so, that even in the locker room all the way up through her senior year in high school, she struggled changing in front of the other girls. And now, to be goaded by a woman she barely knew to strip naked right in front of her, was a bridge too far. But she didn't want to burn any bridges either, so she begrudgingly took her clothes off.

Izumi clapped as Missy stood there with her arms covering her breasts and crotch.

"Bravo, Mitsuki!"

Missy quickly ran into the water and was electrified by the chill of the water, but soon her body acclimated. And it became pleasant. A nice relief in the sweltering heat.

"See, not bad huh?"

"It's nice," Missy agreed.

Missy swam over to the edge of the pool, where she could sit on a large, submerged stone and gaze out onto the beautiful countryside.

Izumi left the water, found a spot in the sun to lay there.

"Time for a nap," she said and shut her eyes.

Missy continued to sit on her side of the pool, and shut her eyes too, to listen to the sound of the water that trickled into a stream, the chirping songbirds, and the ZZZzzzZZZzzzZZZzzzzzz of the cicadas. Distantly she could also make out the whispering sound the wind made in the bamboo forest, and the creaking of the bamboo as they swayed. Also, the cuckoo bird calls echoing in the deep parts of the forests. And Izumi's soft snoring.

Missy opened her eyes again and watched Izumi. Now that Izumi was fast asleep, it was safe to watch her, and admire her perfect body. Her long, wet hair was splayed out on the rock on which she lay. The water that beaded on her skin had mostly gone. She was mostly dry now. Missy's eyes wandered to her curvy breasts and watched them rise and fall as she breathed in her sleep. They were heavy with milk. Missy wondered when Izumi would have to express them again. She felt a strong urge to watch her express her milk again, to see the pump suck the milk from her tits.

The abrupt and crazy thought spun Missy up immediately like a bottle rocket. Her nipples tightened again. Her abs tightened. Her clit began to swell. She clenched her thighs together, as if that would stop the taboo thoughts from making her hot.

Yet, the discomfort in her tight nipples could not be denied. So, she began to rub them, and tweeze them, but she couldn't stop staring at Izumi's breasts going up and back down and back up, then down, and because of that, she only grew hotter, and her nipples grew harder.

Frantic despair swam in her head. Oh God, what am I even thinking?

A question to which she knew the awkward answer. Izumi was making her hot, so, so hot. And she needed relief. She needed to touch herself to relieve herself from that arousal, just as Izumi needed the breast pump to relieve herself of the weight and pressure of the milk her tits produced.

Missy's hand wandered down to between her thighs, to her erect and painfully sensitive clit. She opened her legs and began to slowly, clandestinely rub her clit. All the while, progressively kinkier and undeniably desirous images flooded her mind. Images she could not stop. First the image of milk eking out Izumi's nipples. Then milk running down the contour of her breast. Then streaming into Missy's mouth. Not from the bottle, but straight from Izumi's nipple, in thin squirts each time Izumi squeezed her breast with her own hands. Finally, Missy pictured herself putting her lips to her nipple and sucking and swallowing that sweet, warm fluid.

Missy's pussy ached so badly. She had to pleasure herself faster. She breathed harder and uttered soft moans while the fantasy of feeding on Izumi's breast ran rampant and free in her mind despite her best attempts to stamp them out.

Nearing her orgasm, her toes curled up. Spasms jolted her. Her abs pulsed with short contractions, as did her thighs and her pussy. 'Fuck!' She mouthed, as a final hard contraction led to a hot release of pleasure.

She sank into the water and sighed and blushed in tremendous shame at what she had just done as if she had just committed a serious sin. Shame, and confusion. Confusion as to how such thoughts could be so lucid, and rile her up so much, and how easily it was for her to fixate on them. She had never fixated on another girl's breasts before. Not sexually anyways.

In a horrifying turn of events, Izumi, who Missy thought was sound asleep, spoke up.

"Enjoying a nice moment, are we?" She said. Her voice echoed coldly off the boulders around them. A smile on Izumi's lips, though she kept her eyes shut.

A terrible chill spidered through Missy's body. She let out a curt yelp like a puppy who just had her paw stepped on.

"W-w-what?" She stammered.

Izumi turned to her side, rose up to her elbow. Her grin grew wider.

"Did you think you were being a sneaky ninja masturbator? You were making quite a lot of noise there, Mitsuki."

Missy wanted to sob. She did think she was being sneaky. Now she wanted to jump out of the water and run away, but that wouldn't be such a good idea, since she was still buck-ass naked. So, she simply buried her face in her hands in shame.

"I'm so, so, so sorry, Izumi! I thought you were asleep!"

She sat up. Dipped her feet into the water and kicked playfully.

"I was asleep. You woke me with your moaning."

"I wasn't moaning!" Missy squeaked.

Izumi started to make loud, high pitched moaning sounds. " Oh yes! Oh yes! Oh yes! "

Missy buried her face deeper into her hands. Izumi cackled.

"Oh, don't be ashamed, Mitsuki. I totally get it. Sometimes you get an itch you just need to scratch. Happens to me all the time."

She raised an eyebrow, her smile grew wider, and she leaned in to whisper,

"You know, this one time on the bus to Kanazawa, the road got particularly bumpy, and --"

"Stop!"

Izumi splashed the water with her feet exuberantly as she snickered.

"You know, Mitsuki, if you need any toys, I got plenty at home."

Mitsuki covered her ears and cringed up into a ball. "Can we just drop it? Maybe wipe this moment from our memories?"

"Alright, alright. I'll drop it. But for the record, I don't think you should be embarrassed. Anyways, it's getting late. How about we head home and grab some dinner? You feel like pizza? There's a good place in town that delivers."

***

Staying true to her word, Izumi not once mentioned Missy pleasuring herself from that point on. On the walk back home, they talked instead a bit about Izumi's life, how she ended up back on the farm she grew up on. About her career she left behind. It surprised Missy to learn that Izumi was a corporate lawyer, a talented one on her way to becoming a partner at a prestigious firm in Tokyo but how over the years, the horrendous work-life balance took its toll on her. She was all but burned out by the brutal hours, the high and constant pace of the job, and frequent weekends and all-nighters at the office, and the sociopathically unsympathetic bosses. Then she became pregnant, and though a baby was never a part of her plans, it gave her the epiphany that she didn't want a law career to be a part of her plans either. She had enough money saved up to be financially independent, so she quit her job and returned to Fukui to live on her terms.

Her parents once farmed melons, but that was decades ago. Since then, they, just like many other rural Japanese enticed by the city-life, uprooted to move to Tokyo. When she returned to the Fukui countryside two years ago, the farm was in a ramshackle state. The melon farm had long been overgrown with wild weeds and blackberry brush, and the house itself was as unlivable as a pile of Jenga sticks.

In those two years, and investing much of her savings and her sweat, tears and blood into it, she managed to turn the house into something cozy and beautiful. Her melons quickly garnered a reputation. Prized so much all over Japan that they often quickly sell out at auction - if she manages to get any of them to auction before the overeager shop owners parachute in to make her exorbitant offers to cut out the competition (not that she complains). Of course, she doesn't earn enough off her fruit to get wealthy, but it was enough to sustain herself quite comfortably. Doubtless, she was happy. Mitsuki could tell by how much she glowed.

They shared a pizza on the front porch swing, and they swung as they ate, and watched the evening storm clouds gather above them to burst and spew a loud Monsoon rain. The rain was nice. It cooled the air immensely and didn't last too long. When it died down, the frogs sang, and the fireflies came out in full force, blinking their lime-yellow lights as they danced among the wild grass.

The pizza came with a liter bottle of Calpis soda, a carbonated, lightly fermented milk drink. Usually one of Missy's guilty pleasures, she didn't have the stomach for it now, as the pearly color of it reminded her too much of Izumi's breastmilk. She stared at the Calpis bottle as if to stare into an abyss. She stared so long, that it began to stare back. Fortunately, Izumi was able to drag her out of her Calpis trance.

"So, you must be getting pretty excited about university," she said.

"Huh? Oh, yeah. I am."

"Going to a good school?"

Missy nodded. "UCLA."

"Oh congratulations! That's a great school."

"Thanks."

"So, what are you thinking about studying?"

"I was thinking about majoring in Japanese literature. What do you think?"

"They teach Japanese literature?"

"Uh-huh."

"I see."

"You seem very skeptical about that. You don't think I should?"

"I'm not skeptical at all. I think it's great. I think you should study whatever you find enchanting."

"Is that your advice?"

"Sure is."

"They have a good law program, too," Izumi added.

"You think I should consider studying law?"

"Only if you find it enchanting. Or... what does that Marie Kondo lady say?"

"Uh, spark joy?"

"Yes! If it sparks joy, then you should do it. If it doesn't then don't. Just be careful because there will be times when you really, really want something to spark joy that you will convince yourself that it does."

"Is that what studying law was for you?"

"No, no. I loved it at first. It really did spark joy. Until it didn't. Only, it took me a while to realize it no longer did. Because I spent a lot of time and energy convincing myself otherwise."

"What if that happens to me?"

Izumi shrugged. She chomped into the pizza, and with a mouth full, said,

"It will happen to you. You'd be super lucky if it doesn't. So don't sweat it."

"And being a mother, does that spark joy for you?"

Izumi stopped chewing, looked up at the ceiling in concentration. "Hmmm...."

"I don't think it does. Not yet at least. A baby is a real buzz kill, you know?"

Missy snorted a laugh.

"But didn't you want to have the baby?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I did. I didn't but then I did. You know, being a mother sucks, but to be fair, it's also magical. I know it sounds strange. It still sounds so strange coming from my mouth. A much younger me would have laughed at anyone who said that. She would have rolled her eyes. But here I am a mother now. And... well it's hard to explain, but don't knock it until you try it, I guess. The worst part about it, I mean, besides the lack of sleep, is that when you're a single lesbian girl looking for a little romance, or, you know, other stuff, it can get pretty frustrating. Lonely even. I'm still young, you know."

Missy gasped.

Izumi gave her a confused look.

"What?"

"Sorry, I didn't know you were a lesbian."

She wagged her pizza slice at Missy. "Aiko really doesn't tell you much. Oh yes, I am very lesbian."

"But then how did the baby happen?"

"A crazy night out with a very good friend happened. A colleague at the firm."

She laughed then added, "I wanted to keep it. The father was supportive. That's that. Japan needs more babies, you know?"

"Wow," was all Missy could say in response to that.

Missy went to bed early that night. Or, at least, tried to. Izumi warned her that they would wake up early tomorrow, and besides, she was still punch drunk from jetlag.

But also, because of the jetlag, she couldn't sleep. That, and the incessant chirping of the crickets outside, and the constant creaking of her bed springs as she tossed and turned. After maybe a half-hour, or an hour or three, she gave up trying to force herself to sleep. She remembered she always used to drink a glass of warm milk before bed. That might help.

She hopped out of bed and quietly went to the kitchen downstairs. She passed Izumi's bedroom and saw the light in the crack of her door. Soft music was playing in there, so she was still up. Not wanting to disturb her, Missy tiptoed carefully down the creaky wooden stairs to the kitchen.

But when she opened the fridge, she didn't find any milk.

Bummer

Absent-mindedly, she opened the freezer and because she wasn't really expecting any milk to be in there, she gasped in shock when she discovered many plastic bottles of frozen milk.

Oh, of course. Izumi's breastmilk.

She quickly shut the freezer as if having just discovered something creepy. But, after turning to retreat upstairs to her bedroom, it occurred to her that there was nothing creepy about breastmilk in the freezer. It was a sensible thing for a lactating mother to do, and the taboo was only in her own head. The taboo was hers and hers alone. Her solitary secret.

Missy paused, glanced back at the fridge, and stood frozen as a terrifyingly exciting and preposterous proposition entered her head: What if I drank her breastmilk?

Her nipples went immediately hard. Her pussy tingled, and wetness there began to set in.

Oh God, what if I drank her breastmilk?

She tried shaking the thought from her head but couldn't. She was fixated on it. She stared at the freezer door, just as she had the bottle of Calpis -- as if it were the abyss staring right back at her.

What if I just took a little bit?

She wasn't sure how long she stood there frozen, letting the taboo thoughts run rampant in her mind, but finally, she mustered the courage, and she whispered to herself, "I'll just try it to see what it tastes like."

She breathed out. Glanced nervously over her shoulders. She craned her neck to carefully listen up the stairwell to determine if Izumi was still preoccupied with whatever she was doing in her room. When she was certain the coast was clear, she tiptoed towards the fridge and opened the freezer, her heart beating rapidly.

She took a bottle out and put it in the microwave and gingerly turned the dial on the microwave to defrost.

But just as she thought she'd get away with murder, a voice behind her speared her with absolute terror.

"Um, Mitsuki! That milk's not for you."

Missy shrieked and jumped. An explosion of electricity burst out of her heart and arced throughout her body. She swung around and found Izumi standing in her nightgown at the top of the stairs.

Izumi snickered and said,

"That's my breastmilk!"

"Oh God! I'm so sorry!" Missy squeaked.

"It's ok. I should be sorry. It's my fault for not warning you or labeling the bottles. I really should."

Missy cringed and put the bottle back into the freezer. She couldn't tell if Izumi knew it was her breast milk or if she actually honestly believed that Missy was naïve enough to not know. Either way, Missy's heart was now sinking into the pit of her stomach, and she badly wanted to sink into the pit of the Earth.

"It's just, it's just," Missy stammered. "I-I-I wanted some warm milk to try to help me sleep."

"Oh, I see. Well, I'm sorry, but I ran out of regular milk. I usually get it delivered. We can go hit up the supermarket in the morning, but I don't have anything for you now."

"Ok. Sure. No worries," Missy breathed.

"Unless... You know, human breast milk is perfectly fine to drink."

Missy made an audible gulp. She blushed red as a ripe vine tomato.

"I don't know what you're trying to say," Missy replied, trying her best to hide the nervousness in her voice. Of course, she could have just said, 'no thanks' and let it be that, and let this embarrassing trespass fade into history as an innocent mistake. But because she chose reticence, and because Izumi sensed this reticence like a shark senses blood in the water, she came down the stairs to attack it. Missy backed up against the kitchen counter as if cornered by a daunting predator.

"You know, Mitsuki, human breast milk is not such a terrible alternative to cow's milk. In fact, it's quite a healthier alternative."

"Huh?" Missy's voice came out weakly.

"Think about it - Cow milk was meant for cows to drink. Human milk is meant for a human to drink. It's much more nutritious and, in my opinion, much tastier."

She stopped near where Missy stood trembling, gripping the kitchen countertop. She was close enough for Missy to feel her warmth and to smell her. She had showered recently, so she gave off a fresh shampoo scent.

Izumi reached into the cupboards just above Missy, putting her breasts at Missy's eyes, to pull out an empty glass, then set the glass on the kitchen island.

"If it will help you sleep, you can drink my breastmilk. I make more than I know what to do with."

Missy laughed nervously and shook her head.

"I can't," Missy said.

"You sure?"

Missy gulped. The truthful answer to that question flashed through her head. Of course not. Of course, I want to drink it. That's why I put the damn thing in the microwave.

"It's strange," Missy offered.

"I don't think it's strange," Izumi said, then, after sitting down on a stool at the kitchen bar, added, "it's only us here, and I really don't mind."

She leaned against the bar counter so that one of her boobs rested on the countertop, nearly spilling out of her nightgown. The round edge of her brown areola peeked out from within.

She ran a finger playfully along the glass rim of the empty glass that sat in front of her, as she patiently waited for an answer. Missy stifled a whimper. Her knees went weak.

Normally shy Missy would have flatly rejected the offer and apologize profusely for trying to drink the breastmilk in the first place. But this Missy -- This Missy yearned for the taste of heaven. Hopelessly overwhelmed by desire, she straightened up, clasped her hands politely in front of her.

"Ok," She finally said. "I will have some milk."

"Good," Izumi replied.

"You want it warm, yeah?"

Missy nodded and shifted uncertainly where she stood, slightly confused by what she meant by that question. Of course she did. She wasn't about to drink frozen milk.

Adding more to the confusion, rather than proceeding to defrost the bottle that sat in the microwave, Izumi pulled the bottle out of the microwave and put it back into the freezer. But then a shocking act cleared the confusion: Izumi pulled the straps of her nightgown off her shoulders and rolled her nightgown down over her full, motherly breasts. They jiggled a bit as they popped out of her nightgown, and stared dauntingly at Missy with coffee brown eyes. Missy gasped, turned even redder, and averted her eyes to the floor.

"What are you doing, Izumi?" She whimpered.

"The microwave will kill all the nutrients in the milk, and you'd have to wait all night for that milk to thaw, so, I'm giving you warm milk," Izumi replied. "Now come, hold this glass steady for me."

She held out the glass for Missy to take. When she didn't take it, Izumi motioned again for her to take it. So, with trembling hands, she took it , staring in a wide-eyed trance at Izumi's milk-heavy breasts.

"Hold it steady," she said as she leaned over the glass in Missy's hand. She proceeded to massage her nipple while aiming it carefully into the glass. The nipple grew erect, and milk began to eke out.

Missy held her breath as she watched, becoming intensely aroused by what she witnessed.

Izumi squeezed again. This time, milk squirted out messily from the tip of her nipple to splatter into the glass. Some of the spray did not make it into the glass. Instead, it hit Missy's hand, causing her to flinch.

"Hold it closer," Izumi instructed.

"Sorry," Missy squeaked. She held the glass closer to Izumi's erect nipple. Close enough that the rim of the glass pressed into the plush skin of the breast.

Izumi squeezed again and again. Milk sprayed out the nipple in tiny jets. After a minute or so, she switched to her other breast. There was a technique to express the milk. She would pinch her breast, not at the nipple, but close to the nipple on the areola, and then squeeze outward towards the nipple. The milk came out slowly at first, but it seemed that once a flow started, it almost gushed out, as if wanting to escape.

Unbearable arousal swilled through Missy's body as she watched Izumi relentlessly continue to squeeze her breasts to fill the glass full of milk. Painful arousal.

Before long, the glass was full. It was warm.

Milk still eked out of Izumi's nipples and streamed down the curve of her breasts. Izumi wiped away the stream with her finger and then licked her finger clean.

"Mmm, tasty," she said and giggled as she rolled her nightgown back over her breasts. Seeing the trepidation on Missy's face, she said, "drink up while it's still warm!"

She leaned against the kitchen counter and watched Missy with intense delight.

Missy brought the rim of the glass to her lips and first sipped at it. The taste was sweet. It was rich. It was wonderful. Izumi's smile grew. Missy tipped the glass back further, and gulped it down, and when she was finished, she wiped the milk from her lips with the back of her hand, and sighed.

"It's good, huh?" Izumi asked.

Too shy to give a verbal response, Missy only nodded.

"Good," Izumi said. Her eyes twinkled. Seeing that gratification on her face made Missy even hotter. How horrified would she be if she knew how turned on I was?

"Would you like some more?" She asked.

Missy shook her head.

Izumi shrugged. "Suit yourself. But I'm always open for business," she said, chuckling. She took the glass, rinsed it in the sink, and placed it on a drying rack.

Yawning, she said, "better try to get some sleep, Mitsuki. We have another long day tomorrow."

Warm milk had traditionally helped Missy sleep. It didn't this time. This time, it kept her up all night. It put frantic, confusing thoughts in her head. Her body was hot and bothered and so tense that it needed relief. She tried to cause the thoughts to just vanish. She tried quenching the desire that burned. But it was impossible. Both mind and body were coalescing around something that was undeniable, just as the need to breathe was undeniable. They were conspiring to accept something so profoundly life-changing, yet alien to her, and against her character. A crazed desire that brought her to tears.

She of course gave in to it. She had to give in. She wouldn't have been able to sleep otherwise. Though in tears, she pleasured herself to relieve herself of her desire, and, after reaching orgasm more quickly, more intensely, leaving her feeling dirtier than she ever had, she was finally able to sleep, with the last fading thought in her head the conclusion that she had been branded with an unpardonable fetish.

***

The following morning, the day started as the day before. Izumi roused Missy awake, and they had coffee as they watched the sunrise, and when the morning mist had baked off, and the cicadas started to fill the air with their incessant buzzing, they went to work in the melon field.

Picking melons was mostly a mindless activity. That is to say, it gave Missy plenty of time to be angsty. She put on earbuds and tried listening loudly to music to distract her from her strange fixation, but it didn't work.

Her fixation was two-fold -- the first was Izumi's breasts. The second was, now that she has accepted that she had a fetish, how does she cope with it?

First, she knew that she had to keep it a secret. There was no option. No one could know about it. Not her closest friend, not her family, and not Izumi. She couldn't bear to imagine the disgust on Izumi's face if she admitted to her that she was sexually attracted to her lactating breasts.

She next wondered if this was a phase or a permanent thing. Do people grow out of fetishes? Or does it persist throughout their lives, as a cross to bear perpetually, a boulder to constantly push up a hill? Imagine if she had to keep such a secret her entire life? How depraved would that make her?

It was hot out too, though it was still rather early in the day. So hot that Missy's tank top was saturated with sweat and clung to her body tightly. The cicadas seemed to buzz louder and louder the more she let the thoughts swirl through her mind. She tried turning up the volume of her music some more, but it was impossible to drown them out.

In the clouds that loomed over the distant mountains, thunder rolled, thrumming the sticky summer air.

Missy worked faster, picking up the melons and tossing them into her basket more recklessly, not bothering with checking them for ripeness, just picking and tossing and picking and tossing, even the ones already off the vines, trying her very best to ignore the cicadas, and her angst swimming like a swarm of piranhas in her head. Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!

Thunder rolled again. A fat, cool drop of rain plunked down on her head. Then another.

Just great!

Soon, a black curtain of water came down all around her. She turned and spotted Izumi running to the shade. Missy ran after her with her melons. Some of them bounced out of her basket as she ran.

She gasped to catch her breath as she arrived.

"Welcome to summer in Japan!" She shouted.

She was as dripping wet as Missy was. Her long hair clung to her cheeks.

Missy hoisted her basket of melons onto the sheltered platform, then clambered on herself.

"I dropped some melons," Missy said when she finally caught her breath.

"That's ok. So did I. But you still got a great haul!" She exclaimed, but then her face turned into a frown.

She reached into Missy's basket and tapped one of the melons.

"Oh, Mitzuki, this one is overripe."

She tapped another.

"Ah, this one is as well. Are you checking them before you put them in the basket?"

Missy flashed a flustered glare her way.

"Look, I'm not a melon expert! I'm trying, but I make mistakes, ok?"

A shock came to Izumi's face. She put up her hands. "Ok, ok, calm down. No need to get defensive. I didn't mean you weren't doing a good job, which you are. Just wanted to make sure you're being consistent."

It was hard for Missy to calm down. She was hot in the face. Izumi was perplexed at where this sudden anger came from, but she didn't prod, which was a great relief to Missy.

"Anyways, today was tough. So why don't we just call it a day and have an early lunch? Maybe take a nap?"

"Sure," Missy replied flatly.

Lunch was onigiri with salmon again and some slices of melon. They ate in silence while the rain kept coming down hard all-around them.

After lunch, Izumi took out her breast pump and tried pumping. But the pump didn't work.

"Oh crap," she said as she tossed the pump disappointingly back into her bag.

Missy was secretly glad it didn't work. She didn't want to sit there and let Izumi unknowingly titillate her weird fetish.

***

That afternoon, Izumi offered to take Missy to the beach and to her favorite coffee shop there, but Missy refused, with the excuse that she was too tired to do anything. Really, Missy just felt so awkward around Izumi that she needed a break from her.

Izumi went by herself, leaving Missy to her own devices at the house.

She stayed mostly in her room. Called friends. Called her mom. Spoke nothing of her angst. Stared at her phone listlessly for hours while she spiraled deeper into a silent depression.

Missy heard Izumi come back in the evening but didn't bother to go greet her. She stayed in her room. When Izumi shouted up the stairs to see if she wanted dinner, Missy replied that she wasn't hungry. Izumi didn't try to press it, which was for the best.

By midnight, Missy was still awake. Still in bed. Still languishing. Izumi must have noticed the glow of Missy's smartphone in the crack of the door, so came knocking.

"Yes?"

Izumi opened the door slowly. Missy glanced up and found her in her nightgown, leaning against the door frame.

Missy turned back towards her phone and cringed as she thought how sexy Izumi looked in that nightgown.

She stayed in the doorway for a beat of silence, then sighed.

"Mitsuki, are you alright?" She asked.

"I'm fine," Missy replied quickly, still with her phone in her face, not daring to look at beautiful Izumi.

"You don't sound fine."

"Well, I am."

"Can I come in?"

Missy reluctantly nodded.

Izumi came to the side of her bed and sat. The bedsprings creaked as she took her seat.

Missy finally put the phone down and stared at her stoically, holding her breath.

"Look, I know it might not be the summer plan you imagined. I know it must suck being so far away from all your friends. But I want to be your friend too, Mitsuki. I really do. And I want you to have a good time. I hope you can give me a chance to give you that."

"Ok," Missy responded.

Missy knew her curt responses were not what Izumi was looking for from her. But she couldn't say anything more. She was a prisoner of war in a private war raging within her mind. Say nothing more or less than necessary. Give no intel away. Survive.

Izumi's hand went to Missy's leg. She touched it gently. Patted it. The touch was electric.

"Whatever you're going through, you can count on me to help you out. You can tell me anything, Mitsuki. Really. Anything."

Care and compassion and nothing but in her eyes. Enough to make Missy want to cry.

"Ok. Thank you, Izumi," Missy said, her voice hoarse.

She squeezed Missy's leg. Stood quietly and walked towards the door.

"Wait," Missy heard herself say.

Izumi stopped at the door. Glanced back, waiting to hear something more.

"Look, I'm sorry for being so bitchy," Missy continued.

"You weren't bitchy."

"I was. And I think you're nice, Izumi, and I want us to be friends too, but --"

"But...?"

She turned around. The way she watched so intently, with such a genuine interest, Missy felt compelled suddenly to tell her at least something, if for nothing more than to demonstrate trust in her as a friend.

Izumi came back to the bed.

"Scootch over," she said.

Missy scootched over to give Izumi room. Izumi threw her legs on the bed and sat with her back flat against the headboard. Missy sat up against the headboard with her.

"So, tell me what's up. Did you murder a man today? Do we have a body to get rid of? "

"Worse than that. But I really don't know if I could tell you. I'm sort of ashamed of it, and I think it would horrify you."

"Hah. Try me."

Missy shuddered.

"Ok, well. I've been having these weird thoughts."

As Missy was searching for the most diplomatic, most harmless way to say it, her eyes decided to do the talking for her. They went instinctively down to Izumi's breasts. Izumi's eyes followed. Izumi smiled. She caught the hint.

"My boobs turn you on."

Missy cringed. "Oh God," she moaned.

"Aw, Mitsuki, is that it? That's nothing. Everyone likes my boobs. It's fine."

"But -"

"That's not a bad thing, Mitsuki. It's completely normal, and it's absolutely nothing to be ashamed of. Here,"

Izumi squeezed her arms together to form a tight cleavage between her breasts, then she bounced up and down on the bed to make them jiggle. The bed springs made annoying rusty squeaks.

"Watch 'em all you want."

Izumi snickered and wrapped an arm around Missy and hugged her tightly. Her breasts squeezed against her. The first time Missy actually got to feel them. An amazing plushness.

Missy tensed up. Her heart thumped deeply in her chest. She pushed Izumi away before she could get aroused again, feeling like a chronic alcoholic getting a whiff of whiskey.

"It's not what you think," Missy replied, glaring.

"It's totally fine, Mitsuki!"

"No, it's not!"

"Look, I'm the one with the boobs that get stared at all day by literally everyone. I'm telling you, it's FINE."

Missy was getting spun up.

"You're not the one with the problem !"

Izumi scoffed.

"Problem? What do you mean problem? Do you mean because my boobs turn you on, you're worried you might be a lesbian? Like that kind of problem?"

Missy could see Izumi looked clearly hurt as she said that. And it flustered her even more, because not only did Izumi not understand her confusing quandary, now she thinks she's a homophobe.

Missy let out a long groan from the frustration building up inside her, like a pressure cooker bending at the seams from too much pressure. As there was nothing left to do but vent that frustration, she finally vented it all out.

"It's your damn milk! I get horny every time you express your milk. I had to pleasure myself yesterday at the spring because I couldn't stop thinking about you and your damn milk!" she said in one breath. She took her pillow and squished it against her face in anguish. She cried into the pillow.

"I'm sorry, but it's true."

As strange it was, though Missy felt terrified admitting it, she also felt good. It felt good to release that secret that was twisting her all in knots. Now all that was left was the devastating aftermath. She kept her face stuffed into the pillow, and listened with bated breath for Izumi's reaction, bracing herself.

For an eternity, Izumi did not respond. Perhaps she was still trying to process what Missy had just said, letting it swish around inside so she could properly absorb the disgusting taste and come up with a fittingly acerbic response. Meanwhile, the crickets outside continued chirping and the frogs continued croaking. The noisy silence made the moment painfully intimate and painfully eternal until finally, Izumi broke it.

"As long as we're in the mood for making such confessions. I have a confession to make, too."

Her voice was hushed. There was a nervous timbre in her voice that was uncharacteristic of Izumi.

Missy pulled her red and puffy face away from the pillow to look at her.

Izumi smiled weakly.

"Yeah?" Missy replied, also hushed.

Izumi took the pillow away from Missy's clutch. Set it aside, all the while, gazing unblinking at her. A real trepidation in her face.

"I think its pretty hot."

"W-what?"

Izumi scratched the back of her neck in embarrassment for what she said, and for what she was about to say.

"Don't think I haven't seen that look of satisfaction on your face whenever you watch me express. I see it every time I pull the pump out. And last night, when I squeezed my milk into the cup - the way you trembled, the eagerness in your eyes, and how heavy you were breathing, it was clear that you were excited. It made me hot to see you excited."

"What?" Missy wheezed.

She nodded, shrugged.

"Yeah. It was."

Missy was speechless. Confused. No, delirious. She couldn't believe what Izumi was saying. It didn't even enter the realm of possibility that was going to be her response. It was an alien territory. Some Sci-Fi alternate dimension. Missy blinked hard several times, as if that would wake her from this strange fantasy. But Izumi remained there, sitting beside her on the bed, with that same awkward look plastered on her beautiful face. Where they go from there, Missy hadn't a clue. All she knew to say to respond to such an unprecedented situation was,

"Wow. This is weird."

"Not as weird as you think."

"No?"

"If it were only one way or the other, maybe it's a bit weird. But look, our two weirds cancel each other's out. And there's no one else here to tell us otherwise."

"Yeah, maybe," Missy chuckled.

Izumi smiled at her. She put a tender hand on Missy's arm. Her touch was enough to cause the hair on the back of Missy's neck to stand. She traced a finger up her arm, then back down. Goosebumps grew on Missy's skin. Her pussy grew wet again. She tightened her thighs. Shut her eyes and shuddered a sigh. That encouraged Izumi to continue tracing her finger up and down against Missy's skin. That encouraged her to sidle closer to Missy and whisper in her ear,

"You know... it's been a while since I've expressed, and my pump is still broken."

"Y-yeah?"

"Do you... understand what I'm getting at?" She asked slowly.

Missy opened her eyes. Izumi's hands went up to the top of her nightgown and tugged down slowly.

Missy watched with anticipation. She licked her lips and swallowed nervously. "I think so," she said.

"Good," Izumi replied. Her hands pulled the nightgown down further until her glorious breasts popped out of them, one at a time. Missy stared mesmerized at the erect brown nipples.

"Well?"

Missy swallowed again. "What do I do?" She whispered.

"Whatever comes naturally to you to do," Izumi replied, arching her back to bring her nipple closer to Missy.

Missy nodded. Her shaking hands went nervously to the closer boob. She squeezed the areola so that a delicate droplet of milk came out from the very tip of her nipple. It dripped off. She squeezed again. Another droplet formed.

"Don't be shy.Taste it," Izumi whispered.

Apprehensive still, but seeing the permission in Izumi's eyes, Missy craned her neck towards the nipple. She stuck her tongue out slightly, and slightly touched Izumi's nipple with it to taste that singular bead of milk. Izumi flinched, and she let out a long, deep sigh.

In the hot, quiet countryside, it was just them. Only them to share a secret and a burning desire. Nothing in the world had ever come close to delivering such an excitement than that moment. Missy could feel it in her heart, through her body fizzing like an electric chemical.

As Izumi's breasts seemed ready to gush, Missy could start sucking it now if she wanted to, but she wanted to heighten Izumi's pleasure first. So, before wrapping her lips around Izumi's nipple, she traced her tongue tenderly around the areola. Izumi flinched again, let out another long sigh, this time the sigh turned into a hushed moan, a reaction that delighted Missy, encouraging her to continue.

Missy flicked her tongue against Izumi's nipple. Izumi's back arched farther. Her hands shot up Missy's back as if by instinct, and pressed against her shoulders, bringing her in for a tight embrace. Missy didn't need any clearer encouragement. She continued flicking her tongue against her nipple to stoke the flames.

Izumi's moans came less politely. Her hands crawled up and down Missy's back. They went up inside MIssy's cotton pajama top and raked against her skin. Up and down in chaotic patterns. Missy tried finagling her hands beneath Izumi's nightgown, but her nightgown was too long. The hem of it was all the way down to her ankles. Izumi felt Missy's awkward fumbling and said,

"You want me to take it off?"

Missy nodded shyly.

Izumi pulled her nightgown over her head. Tossed it aside, becoming naked. Fully naked. As in, she had not been wearing any panties, and her pussy was bare now. It was shaven except for a neat strip of black hair up the center of her mound. Her labia lips glistened. Her pink clit out from under its hood, swollen. It was shocking to see so abruptly..

"O-h," Missy stammered and blushed.

This was all happening very fast. A swirling fever dream. And who's to say Missy wasn't dreaming?

Izumi's hand went to caress Missy's cheek tenderly. Then she kissed her. First, just a barely appreciable touch of her soft lips against Missy's. Then her tongue inside Missy's mouth. A warm tongue against tongue.

It was only a short moment before she pulled away again, to look into Missy's eyes with darting delight

"Have you ever been with a girl before, Mitsuki?"

She toyed with Missy's pajama top. She tugged it playfully.

"No. Never," Missy squeaked.

"Do you want to?"

"Yes."

"Good."

Izumi's hands then lifted Missy's pajama top. Missy raised her arms to help slip it off. It was then tossed to where Izumi's nightgown sat bunched at the foot of the bed.

Missy's boobs were meager compared to Izumi's. Much smaller, pert, vacant of any milk. She was self-conscious about that. Nonetheless, Izumi gazed at them pleasingly. Her hands went over them. She tweezed them. Rolled them between her fingers lightly.

"Lovely," Izumi said and kissed Missy again on the mouth.

Then she kissed her neck. Sucking on skin with each kiss. Raking her tongue. Nibbling with her teeth. Leaving behind a spot of saliva as she went down farther. Down to her collarbone. Then to her breasts. Placing many tiny kisses on them before finally reaching Missy's nipples to deliver a sensory explosion. Missy yelped loudly and floundered like a fish, but Izumi continued without remorse, without pausing to give Missy a chance to brace against the explosions.

Izumi wrapped her mouth completely around one of Missy's nipples and sucked while her tongue pressed hard against the soft flesh beneath, warming it, and then her teeth, nibbling gently at it. Then, when that nipple was fully puffed out, she went to the next one and did the same. Missy's eyes rolled to the back of her head. Her body quivered.

"You see how it's done?" She said, grinning.

"Uh-huh," Missy replied.

"Good, now it's your turn again."

Missy went for a nipple. Kissed it first. A droplet of milk eked out of it. She lapped up the milk droplet, then wrapped her lips fully around the nipple. They were longer, thicker than Missy's by a lot, so they were easier to suck on.

She pressed her tongue against the flesh of her areola as she sucked just as Izumi had showed her. Izumi moaned. Milk came out, a streaming jet. Sugary sweet. Trickling down Missy's throat. She sucked more. More sweet milk came out. Izumi moaned some more.

Missy nestled neatly into Izumi's cradling arms, watched Izumi's face make many tightened expressions as she went between sucking and playing with her nipple with her tongue. The milk became a mess.

It filled Missy's mouth faster than she expected and in the exuberance of sucking and playing, some of the milk spilt out her lips and dribbled onto Izumi's body. Enough spilled out that streams formed all the way down to Izumi's pussy. I need to clean that up later , Missy thought. But first, I need to suck her dry .

Izumi's hand slid into Missy's pajama bottom while Missy suckled. It slid into her panties. Missy parted her thighs permissively. A finger began to slide in and out Missy's pussy lips, grazing against her tender clit, down again between her lips, curling inward to penetrate her tight pussy, making Missy moan. She almost bit down on the nipple in all the excitement, but fortunately she stopped herself. Might have been an unfortunate end to the night otherwise.

Missy went to Izumi's other breast. The milk came slowly at first. Missy helped by squeezing it with her hands and, being a pro now at expressing milk and all, it soon started gushing out just like the other. Izumi's naked body became a confluence of pearl white streams, a veritable Amazon River of milk. It was too much of a mess that Missy could not abide any longer.

After swallowing all the milk that had pooled inside her mouth, she started lapping up the milk that was on Izumi's body. Izumi trembled and flinched and giggled as Missy licked.

"Mmm, there you go. Lap it all up," Izumi encouraged.

Missy went down, sucking up all the milk like a vacuum, even where it pooled in her belly button and where it had collected in the small strip of Izumi's pubic hair. She followed the trickling stream down the creases of Izumi's thighs as well and into her pussy. Missy followed the milk streams with her tongue down between her legs. It was then that she realized with a gasp, that she was face to face with Izumi's pussy. She had never eaten out a woman before. Nor had she never been eaten out before. She paused, feeling a growing apprehension. She always chided the boys she'd been with at how much they struggled with lady parts, but now that she was facing the fire herself, she was beginning to feel a bit sympathetic.

Izumi spread her legs widely apart. Her clit blossomed pink like a delicate petal of a cherry flower.

"All you gotta do is lick," she said, sensing the apprehension.

Missy nodded, then, watching Izumi's face eagerly, pressed her tongue into her clit. Izumi tensed up. Her legs rose up in the air. Her hands ran through Missy's hair, tugged as if her hair were the rein. She tugged as if to instruct Missy to lick faster. So, Missy licked faster. It seemed the instructions were correctly understood. Izumi's face twisted with pleasure. She began to grind her pussy against Missy's face.

"Now put your finger inside me. Gently," she said.

Missy penetrated her, gently, as instructed. It was tight, but slick, so the finger slid in easily. This, she knew what to do with. She knew to pump slowly at first, to go in little by little to let her grow accustomed to it, and then curl it up to find that nice little spongy part, which, when touched just the right way, short circuited all the gears in all the right ways.

"Just like that," Izumi sighed.

Missy found the spongy part, rubbed it with the fat of her forefinger as she pumped in and out and she licked Izumi's swollen clit.

Izumi's body soon began to jolt sporadically. Her thighs shook. Missy licked faster and pumped her fingers faster and faster. Izumi's pussy grew tighter and tighter around her finger, until her body seized up.

"Yes!" Izumi moaned.

And gushed.

With face messy with Izumi's sex, she came up from between her thighs.

"How was that?" Missy asked, beaming, but she could see the answer painted on Izumi's frazzled face.

"First-rate," Izumi answered when she finally caught her breath.

Triumphant Missy crawled up into Izumi's arms. Izumi caressed her tenderly, stroking slowly up and down Missy's body as she passed through the quivering aftershocks of her orgasm.

Missy was more than happy to stay there like that. She could easily pass into sound sleep. But, when Izumi's aftershocks finally subsided, she signaled to Missy that more was on the agenda for the night.

"Now, it's my turn."

Her hand slipped into Missy's pajama bottom. She rubbed a finger in a slow circle against her clit.

"Are you ready?" She asked.

"Yes," Missy replied.

They made out messily as Izumi fingered her. Gradually, she pulled Missy's pajama bottom off of her, leaving only her thoroughly saturated panties.

Izumi stroked her panties gingerly with her fingers. "Mmm. You are so ready."

She pulled them down over Missy's legs and gazed a moment admiringly at her tight, pink pussy.

Missy wasn't very prolific in her sexual experiences. She could maybe count the times she's done it on one hand, and with only boys. And though she's fantasized a lot about being licked down there, it has yet to happen. And now it was going to happen, and Izumi was going to be the one to do it. Just moments ago, Missy faced the horrifying prospect that Izumi might think she was homophobic, but here she was now deep in the moment of her first gay sexual encounter, with Izumi as her guide. Oh, how quickly the tables can turn.

Izumi went down on her. Pried her legs apart. Missy shut her eyes to better feel the warmth of Izumi's heavy breathing against her thighs. Then her kisses there. Kisses down to the inside of her knees, and back up to her pussy. Down one thigh, and then the other just the same way. Missy gasped and shivered with each kiss.

Then finally came the penetration. Fingers. One first, and then two, into Missy's tight pussy. Then the fingers came out to part her lips to give Izumi better access to her tiny clit with her tongue. Izumi passed her tongue over it like it was a creamy ice cream cone. Missy screamed out and covered her mouth on account of how abruptly loud she was (she never screamed like that during sex).

Izumi ate her out until she was super close to coming. Missy wanted desperately for her to finish, of course, but Izumi had other ideas. She wasn't ready for Missy to finish like that.

She came out from between Missy's thighs. Wiped her face of her sex and, with a nefarious smile on her face, said,

"Now that you're all warmed up, why don't we indulge a bit more in our little kink?"

Missy loved that she called it 'our little kink'. A thing shared only between them. Their secret. Their bond. Theirs and only theirs.

Missy smiled back.

"I would love that," she replied.

Izumi sat up against the headboard, sat a pillow on her straightened legs and patted it for Missy to lay there. Missy sidled up onto the pillow, and let Izumi cradle her head so that she could reach her nipples to suck.

Her breasts were still heavy with milk. It flowed so easily, squirting strongly into Missy's mouth as she sucked.

Meanwhile, Izumi reached down between Missy's thighs, slid two fingers into Missy's pussy and pumped them in and out while rubbing her clit with a thumb.

"I want you to cum while you suck," Izumi said.

It was, of course, only a matter of time that Missy would give her what she wanted. Her fingers were almost too much, and the feel and taste of wonderful warm breast milk flowing into her mouth every time she sucked on Izumi's soft nipple put her over the edge.

Missy's pussy pulsed with every pumping penetration, clenching, unclenching, ratcheting up with tightness like a spring, ready to release at any moment. Muffled yelps came automatically from Missy's mouth while she sucked, causing milk to stream messily down her chin.

"Cum for me, Mitsuki," Izumi cooed.

She pumped her finger faster. Missy's body jolted wildly. She wanted it to last a little bit longer. She wanted to hold the ecstasy back, but like a fractured dam against a flooding river, she was fated to explode, so, she exploded. She screamed out, and she gushed quite prodigiously (she had never 'gushed' before.)

"There we go," Izumi whispered. "Good girl."

Missy cuddled up tight as a ball in Izumi's arms while Izumi stroked her hair.

Distant thunder rumbled and the wind picked up, rustling forest leaves. The crickets had stopped, they were cautious of the storm. The frogs, however, sang their songs more fervently, to celebrate the rain.

As for Missy, the storm had cleared for now. She had Izumi with her, and that was good.

It was hot now, and hotter still because Izumi held her so closely to her body and her body was hot and the air was heavy. They sweated profusely, but Missy wasn't bothered by it. She could doze soundly into sleep like that.

"Ready to wake up early tomorrow to harvest more melons?" Izumi asked.

"I could harvest melons all night if you asked me to," Missy replied.

"That can be arranged too."

"I'm so happy you invited me here," Missy said.

Izumi squeezed affectionately and kissed Missy on her sweaty-hair matted forehead.

"I'm so happy you came."

The End

Thank you for taking the time to read my story. I really hope you enjoyed it.

If it turned you on, you have to give it 5*. Them's the rules :P