Izumi's Melons

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 theproblem!"

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? Likethat 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.