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There were few things Amelette despised more than being dirty, and after an entire day of spelunking with dwarves, there were few parts of Amelette that were not covered in grime, sweat or worse.
The white-haired nightborne could feel the ache in her muscles as the cart she was in rattled along the uneven path of the Isle of Dorne’s rocky roads, pulled by two mighty ramoliths, the ram-shaped stone elementals’ hooves clattering steadily against the stones.
Amelette shifted uncomfortably in the cart as it headed back to Dornogal, the Earthen capital, and the cart’s ceaseless rocking did little to soothe her discomfort. Oh, the wonders a soft bed would do for her aching body. For a moment, she closed her eyes, longing for the blissful embrace of clean linens. While she’d made no secret of her aches and bruises, the stoic Earthen cart driver, a stocky stone dwarf named Gurgrim, would only reply with hums and nods.
Such was her exhaustion that the intricate arcane tattoos that covered her skin seemed to glow with less energy than usual.
“Unf… By the Nightwell… If I don’t get a hot bath soon, I might just–” she paused mid-sentence, keen senses picking up an unfamiliar scent. “Do you smell that?” she asked as the stone cart crested a hill.
“Oh? Hm, we are near the Boulder Springs,” Gurgrim replied. “Many Earthen visit them. They allow us to cleanse our forms,” he explained simply.
Amelette stood in the cart, barely keeping her balance as it rolled over a particularly large rock. “Can you bring me there?” she asked. “I’ll pay.”
The dwarven driver chuckled, shaking his head. “My directive is clear. I bring goods from Freywold to Dornogal. Then, I bring goods from Dornogal to Freywold. I cannot risk my cargo, outlander. Especially not with nerubians making a mess of things these days.”
As the cart came trundling up over the hill, Amelette could see the steam rising from the hot springs over an outcropping of rock. The sight made her muscles ache all the more, and she cast a longing glance at them, already imagining herself sinking into that soothing warmth. Along with that thought came the realization that she might miss out.
“Stop the cart,” Amelette suddenly demanded.
“I told you, I’m not–”
“I’ll go myself.”
“Considering the quantity of nerubian guts you had on you earlier, I suppose you can handle yourself well enough. Very well,” Gurgrim nodded, tugging on the reins to bring the pair of ramoliths to a halt.
“Thank you, Gurgrim. I’ll see you back in Dornogal,” she said, climbing down the cart, waving to the already-departing stone dwarf.
Despite the setting sun, the land was still relatively warm, and she started towards the rising steam. Amelette couldn’t help but smile as she carefully picked her way down the rocky path, each step bringing her closer to blessed relief.
The terrain was far harder to navigate, though with clever use of simple blink spells, Amelette managed to reach the hot springs. When at last they came into view, Amelette quite nearly screamed with joy. Steaming pools of crystalline water cascaded down a series of natural stone terraces, nestled within rocky outcroppings that seemed to embrace the springs like a pair of arms.
Perched upon a small cliff overlooking the shimmering seas, they offered a pristine view of that breathtaking vista. The elf paused, drinking in the awe-inspiring sight of those bubbling pools and the view beyond. That elation was short-lived when her keen eyes spotted movement in one of the lower pools.
More nerubians?
she thought, the arcane tattoos on her form surging with power as she readied a spell.
No, the form was too small. Too stocky. She released the spell, arcane energy dissipating harmlessly from her fingertips.
Amelette relaxed when she came to the conclusion that there was no threat, for the stocky form below appeared to be that of an Earthen male. When she approached, he turned. “Greetings, outlander,” he spoke, his voice deep and rumbling. His grey skin was carved with intricate, angular runes, and crystalline growths grew at his shoulders. “I did not expect company. At this hour, few come to these springs.”
Partially submerged, the male’s lower body was obscured between the surface of the pools. Not that there was anything for Amelette to see, of course. Or was there? The thought made her pause briefly, and the corner of her mouth curled into the faintest of smiles.
“It’s my first time coming here,” the elf admitted. “I hope you don’t mind my presence. I’ve had quite the day.”
His glowing eyes scanned her form briefly, and Amelette noted that his gaze seemed to linger a little longer than was necessary on the considerable swell of her bust. “Your appearance indeed suggests that you have seen a busy day. This one’s name is Wurdin. What is the outlander’s name?”
Amelette chuckled softly at the tone with which he spoke, somewhere between machine and man. “I am Amelette, from Suramar,” she said with a small, polite bow.
“It is good to have company, Amelette of Suramar. As you may see, there is ample space for you to bathe. These waters serve to rejuvenate,” he said. “If you would be so kind, I would like to hear of Suramar. The latest entry in our archives concerning the city indicates that it is a small town, with a temple being built at its centre. The world has changed much, however, leading me to believe that this information is no longer accurate.”
Amelette nodded, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her long, pointed ear. “I’ll be right back. Just let me change into something more appropriate, and then I’ll regale you with all the tales of Suramar you could ever want.”
Simply being near the hot springs had, it seemed, given the nightborne a small boost of energy, and she ducked behind a nearby rock formation to change into her bathing suit. From her portable void storage bag, she pulled an elegant bikini. Somehow, it managed to show even more skin than her typical attire. The gold-trimmed fabric, red and purple, had been imbued with a handful of minor enchantments, both for form and function.
As she slipped it on, the bikini adjusted to fit her form perfectly. The fabric hugged her curves and accentuated her ample cleavage, while the bottom half covered the most essential parts, though it did dig tantalizingly into her plentiful behind, much as it did her considerable chest.
Tying her long white hair into a messy bun so as to avoid getting it wet, Amelette emerged from behind the rocky outcropping.
When Wurdin’s eyes spotted her, his stoic facade nearly cracked from the face he made, and he cleared his throat. “Your outfit is well-crafted,” he stated with a neutral tone despite his momentary lapse in composure.
A small chuckle left her lips, and she noted how the Earthen seemed to shift uncomfortably in the warm waters. She approached the edge of the water with measured steps, and the bikini’s gold trimming seemed to glow all the brighter under the setting sun’s rays, outlining the alluring curves of her form.
“Thank you, Wurdrin. I would imagine Earthen bathing suits to be exceptionally durable,” she indicated as she slowly lowered herself into the warm waters. Immediately, the day’s exhaustion seemed to melt from her, the waters reaching her chest.
“We do not wear bathin suits,” he plainly indicated.
It was Amelette’s turn to blush at the male’s blunt statement, and she cleared her throat.
“Hrm, well!” she said, trying to avoid glancing into the waters, though she could not have seen much given the thin veil of steam dancing upon the water’s surface. Her mind was soon conjuring up images of nude Earthen, both male and female. She wondered if they had any genitals, given that they reproduced asexually. Though their women
did
have breasts… Did they have nipples? Earthen males did not seem to have any.
Such questions whirled about in her overactive mind for a moment more, though she dared not ask them.
Luckily for her, it was Wurdrin who broke the awkward silence first. “What is Suramar like, these days?”
“Ah! It is a city like no other,” she began, glad for the change of subject. Despite her best efforts at keeping her eyes from the water’s surface, she couldn’t help her glowing silver orbs from wandering down. Her overactive imagination conjured a thousand lurid scenarios in her mind, though she did her best to focus on the conversation at hand.
“During the War of the Ancients, it was sealed off from the rest of the world, and only recently did we open our gates to the other peoples of Azeroth…”
As she spoke, the elf found her gaze wandering down yet again. Was the steam playing tricks on her eyes, or was there something more… substantial down there? Her curiosity piqued, and despite her better judgment, she found herself leaning in over so slightly.
“Recently? More precise language is required to fully ascertain the timeframe discussed.”
“Right… Well, ten or so years ago, I would say,” Amelette began, shifting in the water once more. The movement caused her ample chest shift about enticingly against the water’s surface. “Following the Burning Legion’s most recent invasion of Azeroth…”
As Amelette spoke, detailing the events following the lowering of Suramar’s protective barrier, she gesticulated animatedly, causing small waves in the hot spring. With each movement, she could feel Wurdrin’s glowing eyes following the curves of her body, glued to her wet skin, which glitened in the day’s fading light.
“What was the experience like, to finally be able to experience the outside world after so long?” he asked her.
“After so long… You tend to forget the outside world even exists,” she said, contemplative gaze turning to the horizon for a moment. As her gaze fell back upon him, she noticed how he panically looked at a suddenly
very
interesting rock a few feet away, as men were wont to do when they were caught staring at a woman.
Amelette bit her lip, a mischievous glint in her eye. “But I am glad to finally be able to explore the world once more. So many new experiences, places, people…”
“Indeed. I too would like to see more of the world. Having so many outsiders suddenly wandering Khaz Algar has made me realize that there may be more to the world than the edicts,” he replied, his typically stoic voice tinged with a sudden humanity that caught Amelette off-guard. And… was that desire she could sense, as he turned his head towards her?
“Perhaps, then, you would like to visit Suramar someday?” she offered, giggling despite herself. That her appearance would break an Earthen’s shell in such a fashion made the prideful elf’s lips curl into a wide grin, and she let her foot accidentally on purpose brush against Wurdrin’s leg.
Slowly, the stony dwarf nodded. “I… I would like that,” he said.
“Wonderful. Though I still have many questions about your people and about other titan-forged…” Amelette continued, her toes still teasing his leg.
“Hrm?” He cleared his throat, the sound like that of gravel shifting.
“I know you do not reproduce in the same way that we mortals do,” she said. “And yet, I can’t help but wonder if you possess all the regular equipment we do?”
“Ahem! We are diverse in our forms, yes. Though, a new development has arisen in recent weeks, since the outsiders have arrived,” Wurdrin said, hesitating briefly.
Amelette turned her head, eyeing him for a moment. “Ah?”
With a grunt, he stood, and Amelette had to bite back a gasp, for between the male’s legs stood a heavy slab of granite. The thing, decidedly shaped like a mighty cock, seemed oddly smooth and as hard as any dick she’d ever seen. Her rational mind couldn’t help but wonder at how erections happened among the races not made of flesh. Were they always, well, hard?
“Oh my. Well, that is an interesting development, to be sure,” the mage muttered, eyeing the heavy-looking thing.
“As stated previously, it has happened ever since we have come into contact with the races of flesh. Many of my brethren are taken by this affliction, as well. No healer or archivist has been able to cure us. Perhaps you might know of a way to be rid of it? It is rather cumbersome,” Wurdrin said, looking down at the enormous thing.
Cumbersome indeed, Amelette thought, for the thing was a little over a foot long and just as stocky as the dwarf from which it grew. Though the trappings of polite society prevented her from staring at it too long, her eyes couldn’t help but look back down at it. Had the Titans really created these beings to be as incredibly endowed as this? Were they
all
so gifted? The thought sent her imagination whirling.
“I have… um… cured many such afflictions,” she indicated. “It is possible to do so yourself, perhaps.”
“I require an explanation,” Wurdrin said, his own gaze wandering down at the elf’s cleavage from time to time.
“Have you tried, how shall I say, polishing your stones?” Amelette asked, making a masturbatory motion with her fist in the air.
Wurdrin blinked, tilting his head before micking the motion, stroking the air.
Amelette chuckled softly, and with a shake of her head, she moved through the pool towards him.
“Your explanations are lacking in precision, Amelette of Suramar,” grumbled Wurdrin, slightly frustrated at her amusement.
The nightborne found his innocence endearing. “Allow me.”
Before he could begin to formulate a response, her fingers had taken hold of his hefty endowment, fingers unable to even grasp half its girth. She bit her lower lip for a moment, looking up at him with a mischievous glint in her eye. She couldn’t help but marvel at the smoothness and lifelike texture of the thing, and as she slowly began a gentle pumping motion, it twitched against her palm.
The feeling and sight of that prodigious member sent a shiver of arousal through her entire body, and she let out a soft gasp of delight.
“In my thousands of years of existence, this has never happened,” Wurdrin admitted. “This is an enjoyable sensation.”
As Amelette jerked the male off, she noticed how his eyes kept wandering to her chest, the large midnight-blue orbs jiggling and bouncing about in the water with her strokes. Grinning, she brought her other hand to one of those heavy orbs, giving it a teasing squeeze. “Have you never seen a pair of tits before, Wurdrin?” she asked.
“I must admit that I am mesmerized by the breasts of outlanders such as yourself. I cannot seem to tear my eyes from them. The way they bounce as you walk is intoxicating. I think that perhaps the sight of them might have caused this affliction in the first place.”
Amelette’s fingers squeezed his cock a little tighter as she pumped his length. “Is that so?,” she teased, remembering how, despite their own feminine charms, earthen women had little to no bounce. “Would you like to touch them, Wurdrin?” the elf offered, pulling her hand from him and leaning back to display her chest to him, still encased in her fancy bikini.
The dwarven man grunted slightly, and his hand tentatively reached for the elf’s clothed orb. His hands were strong, too strong, and Amelette couldn’t help but slap his hand away. The dwarf had dug too greedily and too deep.
“Gah! They aren’t stones you pick up and throw. You need to be gentler with them. Like so,” she indicated, reaching for his hand. Slowly, she placed his fingers upon her breast, his gaze firmly locked on those heavenly mounds.
He nodded, taking note of the softness he now held. She could feel his enormous cock throb hungrily as his second hand came to rest upon her other breast.
“Good boy,” she giggled as her fingers continued pumping away at his dwarven cannon. A soft, appreciative him fell from her lips, Wurdrin’s fingers kneading at her plentiful titflesh, exploring the contours of her womanly charms with lustful curiosity.
From the throbbing head of his length drooled plentiful precum, if one could call it that, for it seemed to glow with a golden-blue intensity that reminded Amelette of something else…
Azerite?!
she inwardly remarked, eyes going wide as she watched the liquid oozing over her fist.
“Hrm… Have you ever had this happen to you before?” she asked, raising her hand up to show him the glowing pre-spunk.
Slowly, Wurdrin shook his head. “This thing between my legs has never even ached in the manner it does now” he indicated. “I have never seen such emissions coming from it.”
Amelette brought the precum to her lips, probing it with her tongue for a quick taste. It wasn’t as salty as she’d been expected, though it wasn’t too dissimilar from regular precum. It did, however, pack an impressive punch, as the nightborne felt a slight spike of power running through her, akin to what one would feel when sipping nightborne arcwine.
If such was the power from a drop of the Earthen’s juice, what kind of properties would his full essence yield?
She needed to bring him to climax now, she knew, for the poor male seemed bewildered at the sensations coursing through him. The poor thing probably barely understood what was happening, Amelette thought, as she brought both her hands back up to stroke his hardness. His gaze, she noted, had barely left her chest since they’d started this, even when he replied to her enquiries.
Both his hands now upon her chest, gently groping and fondling the wonderful pillows upon it, Wurdrin would ask: “Is this how the races of flesh reproduce?”
The question seemed odd to Amelette, given the fact that he had no cultural references upon which he could rely to even
know
that other races reproduced in ways that did not involve large underground machines.
She smirked up at him. “In a manner, perhaps” she replied, fingers squeezing his cock as she picked up the pace of her handjob, and she noted how even another pair of hands would not have sufficed to fully cover the length of that obscene cock. Were the Titans such perverts that they would place upon their creations these kinds of endowments? Or was this the beginning of something darker, perhaps?
A hundred and more questions flittered about her mind, and it was all she could do but to focus on the task at hand. As her imagination ran rampant, the possibilities of Azerite-powered sex seemed quite intriguing to the elf’s curious mind.
With a slight grunt, the inexperienced dwarf slowly began pumping into Amelette’s hands, the woman gasping as a hefty spurt of glowing precum spurted from the tip of his throbbing obelisk (yes, even cocks of stone would throb) and landing upon her chest and lower neck area. It rolled down the curves of her form, humming with power, though still not as thick as the main course.
Amelette licked her lips, looking up at him with a lustful glint in her silver eyes.
“You haven’t stopped staring at my tits since we started, Wurdrin. Would you like to experience my breasts with more than just hands?” she would ask, grinning mischievously.
Wurdrin’s brow furrowed for a moment as he pondered her words, his thrusts slowing. “I do not know what you speak of, outlander. I kindly request that you use more precise language.”
“Do you,” she began, giving the underside of his cock a single lick, “want me to tittyfuck that beautiful granite tower of yours?” Her full lips kissed the precum-dripping head of his maleness once, as if to punctuate her question.
“Tittyfuck is not a term I am familiar with. But I am eager to learn,” he answered, watching as Amelette straightened slightly. Her hands pushed his eager digits away, replacing them with her own in cupping her hefty, bra-clad tits.
“Place your… ahem… endowment between them,” she instructed, loosening her grip slightly on those plush elven melons so they would spread and give him ample space to place his impressive cock.
He did not need to be told twice, and soon placed his stony length between the elf’s tits, the elf guiding the male’s impressive outcropping beneath the bridge string between the cups of her bikini. Wudrin seemed confused for a moment before Amelette lifted a hand up to conjure a small bottle of glowing blue liquid.
“What is this?” he inquired, eyeing the odd, viscous fluid as Amelette began pouring copious amounts of it upon her cleavage and the man’s cock.
Pleasant tingling spread through their skin as it came into contact with the fluid.
“Mana oil,” she said, bringing the hand back to her breast as she discarded the vial.
With her cleavage coated in ample lubricant, the elf pushed her tits together, trapping the man’s cock in the valley between them. Her chest, though not as massive as other elves she’d encountered, could usually handle most cocks she came across. This was not one of them, as she soon realized, for there was a small space, barely half an inch, where her titflesh would not connect.
Wurdrin, enjoying the sight and sensations that the elf was offering him, grunted slightly.
Amelette smiled slightly and she began slowly sliding her breasts up and down his considerable length. His rock-hard hammer slid up and down her cleavage, half ot it poking out when her breasts connected with his groin.
“This is quite unusual, I must admit,” he noted, resting a single hand on her head. “I did not think the races of flesh reproduced in such a fashion. It is rather enjoyable.”
Amelette shook her head, amused at the dwarf’s ignorance of it all. “Yes, Wurdrin,” she said. “This is how we reproduce. Our offspring emerge from our breasts,” she teasingly replied.
Though she thought her tone had made it painfully clear she was not serious, the earthen’s inability to understand sarcasm caused him to furrow his brow for a moment. “It is good, then, that my kind cannot produce offspring with yours, for I would like to keep doing this with you, and offspring would be a most unfortunate consequence.”
She made no comment on that, simply continuing that titwank as her heavy, bikini-encased bosom slid up and down his engorged length, her pace accelerating with every groan and huff of the burly male. Her fleshy orbs would slap against his body with incessant
plap plap plap
s, and he would find his hands sliding down to her shoulders for stability as he allowed himself to pump his hips, increasing the friction of those wet breasts upon his cock.
Fat dollops of his precum oozed from his cock, coating the inside of Amelette’s cleavage with that glowing liquid, only adding to the pleasant, tingling sensations caused by the mana oil she had so liberally applied to them both.
As the poor earthen had never experienced such things before, he soon found himself overwhelmed by those sensations and his throbbing stele began pulsing and twitching, a gravelly sound coming from him, oddly enough. It began quaking between her tits and the dwarf let out a long, loud moan.
The speed of his orgasm had caught the nightborne by surprise and she found herself unable to react. The first cum-volley spattered across her face and neck with intensity enough that it splashed back against the dwarf, specks of Azerite-jizz contrasting with the relatively dark tone of his stomach.
Even feeling it upon her skin caused power to surge within the nightborne, and her eyes began glowing with far more intensity.
Her mouth opened in surprise and she caught the second blast right in the back of her throat, forcing her to swallow copious amounts of the thick, goopy cum. Spurt after spurt of Wurdrin’s semen blasted against her, covering much of her face and upper body. If that first blast had made her feel alive with power, the second one, swallowed, made the experience thrice as electrifying. Power unlike anything she’d ever felt, unlike even the most potent arcane energies, coursed through her very being.
With a wet
schlurp
his cock fell from her tits, only to continue painting her with that spurting cannon. A particularly well-aimed rope fell over her eye, forcing it shut as she opened her mouth to try and force him to aim subsequent shots at her tongue rather than anywhere else. His aim with that tumescent menhir, being nearly nonexistent, made it so he covered every
other
part of her.
And soon, the woman seemed more akin to an Azerite elemental than the nightborne she’d been moments ago. Glowing with power, she wanted more.
After some time, his release subsided, leaving her absolutely plastered in piping hot earthen ballmuck, feeling more energized than she’d ever been. The power was almost addictive to the elf, who managed to somehow control herself and not lick every drop off herself and the earthen, though she
did
clean some of it off her fingers.
The liquid payload was so unusual in taste and texture and oddly filling. She’d only taken a few gulps of the thing and yet she felt like she’d just eaten enough for two. The main course had, it seemed, proven to be more than enough for the curvaceous she-elf.
“Unf… At least your cum tastes better than most,” Amelette said, wiping a fat gob of spunk from her face as she looked up at the male and his deflating shaft. Surprisingly, living stone was capable of hardening and softening. Perhaps
this
was how the Curse of Flesh began, she thought as she started wiping some of his glowing spunk from her form.
The earthen fell back into the water, dazed from that orgasm. He remained wordless for some time before finally speaking. “I… thank you, Amelette of Suramar. I did not believe such pleasures to be possible. There is much I must consider.”
His eyes followed the elf as she began stepping from the pool, body dripping with cum and water. Glowing orbs would follow the woman’s curves as she leaned over to rummage through her belongings. Those round, fleshy butt cheeks caught his gaze and Amelette, sensing this, turned towards him with a smirk.
Pulling her bikini to the side, she offered the dwarf a perfect view of her puffy, purplish-blue ass hole, along with the glistening slit beneath it.
“I suppose tits aren’t the only thing that interests Wurdrin, hm?” she would ask.
And the stone dwarf stood up suddenly, along with his cock.