Izumi's Melons

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.