Today we have a very special Soda Blog/Smut Vault mashup, complete with follow up here at TehBen HQ! Back in November, we mixed Mtn Dew’s Liberty Brew and Merry Mash-up and we couldn’t quite put a finger on how we felt about it. It was strange. It was naughty. It was forbidden. Needless to say, there was an…..energy about it. Thinking quickly, we did the only thing we thought was proper: we held an erotca writing contest! We put out the bat signal and some fantastic professional erotica writers that quite literally span the globe took to their notepads to send us their stories of soda pop depravity. So who takes home the $25 Amazon giftcard? Let’s bust open the envelope and name this winning concoction of fizzy fornication…
(This goes without saying, but be forewarned that the following content is definitely NSFW, in case you are browsing tehben.com on company time!)
3rd Place: Britni Pepper’s “Louisiana-Florida Line”
Merry had never tasted anything quite so interesting. Sweet, most definitely, but spicy – that must be Louisiana – tangy, a hint of pine forest, citrus from Florida, the sour taste of Jersey, oh it was just fascinating, the way it all gushed and fizzed and pulsed, and filled her up.
Liberty regarded her, sparkling, animated. He wanted more.
2nd Place: Jane Caleb-Wood’s “Mr. Liberty”
Jane’s Author Page: Amazon
He liked her right away. Long auburn hair, cherry red lips slick with gloss, name like Christmas. Merry. He found himself in her office more than was necessary, asking questions he already knew the answer to so he had an excuse to talk to her. Today she wore a pair of high heels as red as her lips. Those lips that made his cock tighten in his pants, thinking of her perfect mouth closing over his shaft. He knocked softly on her half open office door, armed with a question that would make her think he was stupider than she probably already did. She looked up, her face breaking into a smile and his entire body responded.
“Mr. Liberty,” she said, getting up from her desk and coming toward him. “Just who I wanted to see.” She reached around him, her arm brushing his shoulder and his cock twitched at the contact. She pushed the door closed with a decisive click. “The Boss has me working late tonight,” she said softly, standing a bit closer to him than was necessary. “Do you think you can stay and help me out?”
He swallowed hard and nodded. She smiled again and he realized he’d do anything to see those luscious lips curved into a smile. “Meet me back here in an hour?”
Liberty nodded vigorously, afraid he’d embarrass himself if he spoke and scurried out of the office. The seconds ticked by with agonizing slowness as he waited in his cubicle. The office slowly emptied, and Liberty was alone outside of Merry’s closed door. He lifted his arm to knock, but the door opened and Merry moved aside so he could enter, closing the door behind him.
“So, what are we working on?” Liberty asked, wiping his sweaty palms discreetly on his pants.
“I thought it would be a good idea to mix our talents. Merge together – you and I,” she said, licking her lips seductively and running her fingertips down his blue tie all the way to his belt buckle.
Liberty stiffened; her intention was clear. His cock throbbed as she pulled her dress over her head, revealing her lacy purple underwear. She grabbed his hand and directed it between her legs. He found her deliciously wet.
“You’re all mine now,” she whispered.
1st Place: Lelani Black’s Violet Dew 52
Lelani’s Twitter: @lelaniblack
I cussed him out the whole time I was in the jungle dodging arrows, booby traps, and malicious tiny folk who plant poison ivy and other deadly botanicals on the path to Hyla Falls – the known path to the falls, by essence poachers like me. They hate us. They know we come every year. They know we have no choice.
Don’t get me started on the bridge trolls. The means and ways I bought safe passage on the ropes and bamboo treads suspended above class 5 rapids leading to the waterfall… I shudder even now as I step inside Lord Liberty’s office, safe and clean, minus a pinky finger.
Irritation washes over me. The things I did for the little monsters—scraped their toenails free of caribou dung, swam through rivers swarming with bull sharks to find the eel caves and bring back a pregnant female. The trolls had me milk the eel of its eggs into bowls for brining, in anticipation of their harvest moon feast.
I wouldn’t let them cook her so I was forced to return one pissed-off mumma eel to her home. By then I was covered in so much slime even the sharks didn’t want a piece of me.
The things I do for love.
As usual, there are two glasses sitting on the desk, both filled with ice and sparkling liquid. Lib occupies a corner with his arms folded across his chest.
He glances at the clock on the wall and watches me walk into the room. The appreciative glint in his gaze makes me forget about telling him to take this job and shove it up his bum-bum.
I don’t care. I have what he wants. He can wait.
Except I don’t like to keep him waiting. Christmas is around the corner. There’s magick to be made. I step up to him.
He runs a finger along the opening of my shirt and tugs the vial of sparkling essence out from where it nestles between my breasts.
The drop Lib places in each glass swirls through the liquid, turning into the colors of mashed berries. One red. One blue.
He pretends not to hear the relief in my exhale. The essence is correct. No impurities. Humans haven’t found a way to contaminate the falls yet.
He pours part of the contents of each glass into the other, back and forth, back and forth—until each is blended and the drinks shimmer with the color of black violets.
“Thank you, river nymph.” He hands me a glass and picks up the other.
The gratitude in his voice caresses the soft pink scales on my ears. I raise my glass to his and we hear a satisfying ‘clink.’
His brows rise up into his forehead and his mouth turns down to see bandages piled on the stump where my pinky and its webbing used to be.
It’s my turn to smile. I lick the moisture coming off the side of my glass, pleased to have his attention yet irked at the ritual that gives him the first tasting.
He tips his head back and drinks deep. As usual, I wonder what it might feel like to be the glass of bubbly, merry berry nectar that he’s holding on to, being savored and sipped—the reason he’s smacking his lips.
Suddenly I’m in the sights of a hot look that dampens the skin beneath my panties. I feel a little less sore about losing my pinky to a baby shark, too.
“Would you care to come home with me? We’ll take a dip in my pool,” he adds.
Well, now. I take a sip of my drink and find it crisp and delicious. Might I finally get my Christmas wish?
My body creams at the thought and my heart smiles when I say, “It’d be my pleasure, Lib.”
My pleasure, indeed.
A great big THANK YOU to everyone that participated and checked back to read the final results of this contest! To be honest, this was a weird idea to have, but I’m so glad we somehow produced some steamy content out of a home-mixed soda concoction. Let’s hope that’s a good sign for all things 2020! Let’s get in the groove, and go find more Dew flavors to start pouring together!
Follow Matt on Twitter for more steamy soda creations and thoughts on XFL conspiracy theories.