Izumi's Melons

This is an entry for the Summer Lovin' Story Contest 2022 contest. I hope you enjoy it and please make sure you check out all the other great entries for the event!

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.

The droning and perpetualZZZzzzZZZzzzZZZzzzzzz 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.