Beans

[mattbuck]

Splat.



Holly woke slowly, sensation returning to her luxuriantly nude body one glorious inch at a time. She tensed her fingers and slowly stretched her arms above her head, her eyes closed in the last vestiges of sleep. Next she wiggled the toes on her right foot, rolling her ankle as she pulled her leg upwards, bent at the knee, and ran her hands over the toned flesh of her thigh, before repeating the process with her other leg. Setting her feet apart, she opened her legs wide, stroking the smooth flesh of her inner thighs lovingly, enjoying the slight scratch of manicured nails against her skin. Over her hips now – perfectly proportioned to her slim waist, the diamond glittering in her belly button as she traced lines on her tummy. Then up, up to her chest, her naked bosom something that so many wished to see, her pert nipples welcoming the attention her fingers brought, rolling and tweaking, squeezing and rubbing. She rolled her neck this way and that, raising each arm above her head as she did so, running her wet tongue along just above her armpits. She sighed in contentment, bringing her hands back to her breasts, squeezing them gently and pushing them together.

It felt too slick – they shouldn’t slide slickly against each other. Keeping her eyes closed, she dragged a finger between her breasts, feeling some sort of wetness. She brought it to her nose and sniffed tentatively before putting it in her mouth for a taste.

Tomato.

Why was there tomato sauce on her chest?

Something landed on her stomach. Something small and light. It bounced once, then rolled into her belly button. Her right hand investigated while her left was rubbing the slick sauce between her fingers. Small, fairly round… a bean. A baked bean – her face lit up in a smile that was both angelic and devilish. She picked up the bean and rubbed it around one nipple, then the other, enjoying the touch against the sensitive skin. Then, she brought it to her puckered lips, resting it there for a moment platonically, before opening slightly and letting it roll in. She caressed it with her tongue for a second, then crushed it against her front teeth and swallowed. She grinned briefly in victory, and started trying to write her name in sauce across her stomach, but she ran out before she’d finished the O. She wished there was more sauce, and more beans.



Splat. She shrieked and opened her eyes as a small pile of beans landed on her chest, sauce splatting up onto her cheeks. Where did they come from? She looked around the room – it was very white. A white floor, which she was lying on and finding surprisingly comfy, a white wooden door over in the corner, and to her right a long picture window with white net curtains, which let in some white light from nowhere in particular. Above her, the ceiling was white, but there was a pipe of some sort, about the width of… well, about the width of a can of baked beans actually, which stuck out. She sat up slightly, and saw underneath her there was an X on the floor in black electrical tape.

Sitting up caused the beans to start sliding off her chest, little rivers of sauce preceding them. She lay back, her head on the pillow, and pushed the beans back up, mashing them into her breasts. She always enjoyed the softness of her breasts, and today they seemed that bit softer and that bit more sensitive, and the feel of the beans was just brilliant. She corralled them safely between her breasts, then set back to writing. She wrote “HOLLY” across the bottom of her stomach, then, as an afterthought, added “YUMMY” across the top. Much better. She considered spelling out her name with beans as well, but decided that would take a bit long, and settled for picking them up and letting them slip from her grasp to rain back onto her chest. More.



Splat. She saw it coming that time and pushed her chest up to greet it. It was much more than she’d had before, and it quickly obliterated the writing on her stomach, as well as leaving several large splashes on her face. Out of habit she tried to wipe them off, before realising she was just making the mess worse, and that really, did she care? In fact, she decided, her face wasn’t messy enough. She cupped her hands and, scooping beans from her chest, let them fall over her face, her mouth open wide to catch some. She swallowed those eagerly, even as others slid off her perfect cheeks and onto the pillow below. The juice couldn’t be so easily scooped, so she rubbed her hands over her breasts, and then over her face. It wasn’t enough, she wanted to get messier. She shuffled forward a bit, and propped herself up on her elbows, lifting her face to the ceiling.

“More,” she breathed, closing her eyes and giving voice to her desire. She wasn’t disappointed – a veritable torrent of juice shot forth from the ceiling, showering down on her upturned face, cascading off and down her body, running deliciously between her legs. Her face was utterly covered, and juice ran freely from her long dusty golden locks. She gasped as the torrent ceased, and inched backwards as the beans fell, letting them fall onto her chest and roll down her flat tummy, collecting in a vivid orange pile on the white floor in front of her crotch.

She sat up and after cleaning a hand on the bottom of her thigh (which had so far avoided the juice), used it to wipe her eyes. She looked down at herself – juice was dripping from her nipples and running down over her… oh that felt good. She felt good – more relaxed and more alive than she’d felt in ages. What would her admirers think of her now, she wondered absently, fishing a bean out of her hair. Some would be shocked, and some… some would be more turned on that they would normally by the thought of her naked. She smiled as she lay back down, the pillows squelching softly as she did so. Her hands went to her breasts again, squeezing gently, then moving slowly down her body, each leaving five trails of bronzed flesh in the red blanket covering her. She stroked her inner thighs, teasing herself, getting closer until she could stand it no longer and touched herself with one slicked finger.

She purred in delight at the feel of her sauce-slicked fingers sliding over the sensitive flesh of her pussy. She probably would have been able to smell herself if it weren’t for the overwhelming essence of tomato filling the air. She rubbed downwards and then back up again, taking her time and extracting every ounce of pleasure from the sensations rippling through her body. Her finger came to her clit, and she rubbed in slow circles, letting out a moan of pleasure at her touch. But she needed more. Three fingers over her crotch, the middle one sliding in effortlessly, coming out much cleaner than it had gone in.

That just wouldn’t do.

She drew the mound of beans towards her and mashed it against her pussy, relishing the feel of it all pressing against her. She rubbed herself, knowing that several beans were making it past her lips and getting inside. Still it was not quite enough. One hand was busy frigging herself now, while the other one slid inside her, pushing beans in with each thrust.
Not enough.

She squirmed backwards until her hands were busy right above the black X on the floor.

“More,” she snarled through her once pristinely white teeth, now stained orange. Her brown eyes almost seemed to be filled with fire as she gazed at the ceiling. “More!”

It came. So many beans, so much sauce fell down onto her crotch as her hands rubbed and stroked furiously, churning the pile at her crotch, pressing it against her hard, harder, harder… She wasn’t just rubbing, she was humping the beans, no thoughts within her but the need to orgasm and the yearning for more more more.

She came explosively, the contractions of her pussy struggling to push the beans out as her hand pushed them in. She cried out as she did so, a brutal cry so unseemly for a famous Australian songstress, but it was too good a release to be denied. Her chest heaved, her nipples reaching for the sky in their tomato-covered glory before she fell back to the floor, struggling to catch her breath and aware of every single bean touching her body.

Oh it was good.

She closed her eyes, for once not wishing for more, not wishing for anything at all. She wriggled until her bottom was touching the floor again, then rolled over, exposing her bare and clean back.

“Not yet,” she whispered into the pillow, thinking of how it was a shame to have such clean flesh. “But soon.”

With that, she relaxed and let herself drift off.

Soon.

[mattbuck]

All comments welcome, good or bad. In fact, bad ones especially, as unless people tell me what they don't like, I can't make new stories better.

[OZwammer]

Great story, very well writtne I really enjoyed it... Is there a second part?

Keep up the great work

[mattbuck]

I've been meaning to write one, but haven't got around to it yet.

[PleasePieMeMistress]

I'm personally not keen on using beans, but loved your story Matt.