Hot Pie

Story Info
A Dwarf looking to buy some pie finds what he seeks.
4.8k words
4.5
15k
9
Share this Story

Font Size

Default Font Size

Font Spacing

Default Font Spacing

Font Face

Default Font Face

Reading Theme

Default Theme (White)
You need to Log In or Sign Up to have your customization saved in your Literotica profile.
PUBLIC BETA

Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.

You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.

Click here

Copyright Notice:

All characters and individual material is © Daniel Riverton 2011. All rights Reserved.

©2004 Blizzard Entertainment, Inc. All rights reserved. World of Warcraft, Warcraft and Blizzard Entertainment are trademarks or registered trademarks of Blizzard Entertainment, Inc. in the U.S. and/or other countries.

This is fan fiction only. This work may not be reproduced for commercial, marketing republishing or copying purposes. The work is sexual in nature and may not be to everyone's individual taste. Please do not continue reading unless 18 years or older.

This was a quickie written during three coffee breaks at work. More of a sketch than anything else, but still funny. Also, it involves sex between dwarves, a subject not often explored. Made it fun to write, not to mention the accent! Let us know what you think!

*

Thorian Tarhammer leaned back on the stone-carved armchair overlooking the massive hall containing the great Forge of the city. The heat radiating from the molten stone and metal continuously was immense -- like a mallet blow the the face.

He had been raised in a remote little corner of what to most was known as Dun Morogh, raised by mother and father both to be a warrior. That life was now more than twenty years gone. It was in that capacity that he was visiting the Capital this day. The bulky dwarf was waiting for a contact to arrive, someone to give him a message containing information for his next assignment which as far as it went was an oddity for him. He usually worked alone. This time however...

It would take him to the Highlands, he thought. Arathi was temperate this time of the season, though he could not imagine it being as bad as Ironforge. Few things could be as hot as this, he considered with a few silent, well-picked oaths.

Thorian shifted on the chair, adjusting the scale-and-plate that he wore. He had not planned to be here for long, so undressing and removing armour seemed unnecessary and a waste of time. The massive, two-handed axe he used as he thought a tailor would use a needle and cloth stood leaned against the chair, the rune-inscribed handle covered with a variety of scratches and dents.

None of these marks were jarring enough to actually damage the quality of weapon however. He preferred a weapon that had seen action and showed as much. There was always the risk with new weapons -- especially foreign-made ones -- that they would break if swung at something particularly resilient. Not this one. The dwarf gave a satisfied grunt and scratched his brown beard, a decoration of perhaps middling length compared to most dwarves.

"Hot pie, sire?" A comely dwarven lass in a commoner's linen dress asked from below the balcony. "Made from fresh cherries, directly in from Elwynn only this morning!"

The smells rising from her basket made him salivate. It had been some time since he had had a proper meal. He didn't care for the gossip that some spread -- that the vendors that walked through the capital selling pies, fruits and candy only sold trash and fall-fruit.

Thorian gave her a wave and a nod and the girl stepped up the four stairs to the door. It was a spacious house, though one he had rented the two floors for a day only.

Now that she was close, he saw that she was stocky -- very well-built -- and perhaps thirty years of age. Still young then. Her cheeks and skin was the colour of rosy, healthy pink and there was a smell of cinnamon and cherries around her -- not just the large basked she held in one large hand.

"Aye, sire? You wanted a pie, yea?" There was perhaps a touch of amusement in that.

He realized that he had been staring at her tits. It must've been a long time since I saw one last, he realized glumly and cleared his throat -- a sound like wooden logs tumbling down a chute.

"I did at that. How much?" He grabbed for the purse at his belt.

"Two silver."

When he stared at her, he saw that she had pursed her lips. Perhaps -- because of the fine armour and weapon -- she took him for nobly-born and set the price of the meal thereafter.

He chuckled.

"Perhaps I do have the look of wealth, girl, but I only have a copper to me name or two. I can no pay that kind of price. I'll give you thirty coppers." He counted the small, rust-colored chips into his palm and held it to her.

"I can barely buy the flour for the pie for thirty cop's!" She exclaimed, covering the basket with one hand as though afraid he'd try to snatch one of her precious pies.

"Whatever happened two three pies for a silver penny?" He countered. Not angry however, more amused. "That seemed the price when I was here last, it was. "

"Really now?" She commented dryly. "Ye don't suppose that went down the drain with two 'cunts for a copper that some shanks in the caverns tell tales of?"

He chortled in spite of himself. He had heard that some Ironforge dwarves -- especially the more low-born had a mouth on them, but he hadn't expected it from her.

She eyed him, sizing him up from head to toe.

"How about the house? Does it have it's own spring and clean water?"

"Aye, it does." Thorian nodded slowly. All of the houses around the forge had that -- a small, stone pump with a wooden handle used to get water into the house.

She chewed her lower lip. "I need to wash me clothes, you see. That'd save me from using the cave's water, it would." She glanced through the window, arranging her red hair with a quick shake of her head. "I'll give you pie, a nice cherry one, if ye let me use your house for washing me clothes."

He gave a quick look-over. She was poor, but he didn't think her a thief or scoundrel likely to do something foolish if given access to the house.

"I'm waiting for someone. You'd have to be gone when he...arrives." Or 'she', he added silently. He just realized that his contact in Thelsamar had not told him whether the person he was meeting was male or female.

He thought her lips twitched a little. "Aye, I understand. I'll get me clothes. Can I..." she put the basket on the table, eyeing him with considering eyes.

"I'm not a thief." He said pointedly.

"Good! I'll be back I will!"

Thought the smells from the basket made his stomach growl, he restrained himself from eating any of the delicious content. The young dwarf was back quickly, a thick bundle of clothes under both arms. She gave him a mocking curtsy when he opened the thick iron-bound door for her.

"Why thank you, melord. Such a gentle dwarf ye be."

Within only an hour, all of her clothes were soaking in the tub with a mixture of soap and something he didn't recognize -- something womanly. His mother had often used such things. He paid no attention to washing. He had received one pie from her -- as promised - and they were delicious indeed.

"Do you bake these?"

"Aye, I do. Been baking all of me life. Good skill, me mother said, when you have not a coin to yer name." She gave a shrug, looking over her shoulder at him with a small, self-deprecating smile on red her lips.

The coarse linen dress she wore was spotted and flecked with water, but it was tighter then the garb she had worn before. She was pretty, he could see now. Her hair was a fiery red and her cheeks were spotted with a few, near-invisible freckles on each side. She was not as stocky -- not that stocky - as he had thought. It was a pity, since he liked his women built well...but considering how long it had been he ogled her all the same.

He could, since she was looking away. Thorian ate the pie slowly, savouring each cherry-filled bite and watched her shapely rump as it moved while she vigorously washed this or that in the soapy water.

"Ye men have a fondness for women who know their way around the stove, ye do. At worst, I can sell pies to the likes of you"

She turned again and he quickly smoothed his face, brushing pie crumbs from his beard.

"At best, I'll find meself a man with it eventually. Or perhaps workin' as a cook in a manse."

"That makes sense." He agreed complacently. He himself had been borne with little to his name, but the fighting skills he had acquired over the years had changed that. When you were good at certain things, that served to make a name for you without the need for coin.

"Why don't ye paint a still picture, happy-eyes? It'll last longer, and I might get meself undressed for a painter and a silver or two."

He started. "I'm not sure what ye mean, girl."

She turned, hands on hips. "You're looking at me arse. Is it that pretty?" She teased. "Smart women can tell when men are, ye know. It's like a bloody itch on yer back where ye can't reach it."

He decided not to deny it.

"Well, ye do have a pretty backside." he offered instead.

"How kind of ye to notice." She moved in a way that made her rump sway enticingly and grinned at him. "I like ye menfolk lookin. I know I look pretty, even without the beard."

He chuckled. It was true -- she would look stunning bearing a beard. Such luck was only reserved for the fewest of dwarven women however -- ninety-nine out of a hundred had no possibility to grow what all dwarven men considered to be their birthright.

"Yer still a comely lass." He complimented, now not bothering to hide his looks. She seemed not to mind.

"Thank ye, sir." She said with a grin, flashing white teeth. "Would ye like to feel it perhaps?" She gave a guffaw at his shocked face. "I'm no more traditional blood-born then ye are, man. We need no wait for marriage for such things."

It was true that chastity was valued particularly among the higher castes, but he had not expected the comment.

She came over to the chair he was sitting in, the same kind of sway in her walk.

For a moment, he thought to perhaps give her a quippy comment worthy a gnome how this might have been expected of someone who did sell herself, not just her baking. He quickly decided against that.

"Gladly. C'mere." He said instead, reaching out to place large hands on her waist. On a human woman, his large, calloused hands would easily wrap around the usually slim waist. On this woman - a properly set up woman -- however, it only made it possible to pull her closer slowly.

"Oh, forward! I like that." She giggled and sat down on his lap with a metallic 'clunk-clank-clink' from the rattle and creaking of his armour.

She didn't seem bothered by the plating however. He started feeling her body through the fabric of her clothes. His large hands cupped the warm mounds of her breasts firmly and he squeezed, making her lean forward against him.

"Oh yes, feel me breasts, man." She sighed deeply, pressing the upper body closer.

"Lovely." He commented, giving the orbs another firm couple of squeezes. Dwarf women were built as women should be, he considered. A human girl -- or any non-dwarven for that matter -- would be whimpering from the force of his hands.

Not her. She breathed deeply and gave little twitches from time to time, her strong legs wrapping around his waist.

"Yer armour really isn't...practical at times like these, ya know." She whispered, her hands working at the leather straps connecting plate to plate with hooks.

"Doesn't seem like it, no." He agreed. His hands had a much easier time with the cords holding her dress together. The thin knots came apart easily in his hands, and he slid the dress off her upper body.

And blinked. She wore nothing beneath -- not even a shift.

She grinned, dimples showing distinctly on her freckled cheeks. "Ye like?" She demanded.

"I like." He squeezed the now-naked orbs, feeling the nipples stiff beneath his thumbs.

She leaned against him, warmly nuzzling her round face against his and kissed him deeply. The kiss tingled -- it had been a year since he last had been with a woman -- and he kissed back eagerly. She shifted, pulling the dress down further.

He was happy to see that she wore underwear at least. It gave him the pleasure of pushing his thick fingers beneath the fabric and feel her, feel the downy, wet feel of her sex.

She gasped when he did so and stood up, pulling the dress all the way down. Her eyes went to him and she watched him expectantly. "Well? Ye think I'm the only one to get naked?"

He chuckled and stood, unstrapping the armour with a few, practised motions that loosened the plating from his body. It was essential that such a thing was possible, but not made to easy so as to have it happen in battle by accident. The mechanism that allowed it was placed below his shoulders.

She was upon him quickly then, loosening his protective tunic with deft hands -- despite the size of the fingers -- while raining kisses on his beard and lips with an eagerness that surprised him. Dwarven women were not exactly known for their promiscuity, yet this lass belied those tales quite...firmly.

"Mmm...ye're strong. I like it. A man should have a belly and a pretty pair of shoulders." She giggled, running large fingers along the numerous scars he bore on his chest and arms.

The tunic lay discarded on the rug and he pulled her close, stroking her rump firmly with both hands.

"Oooh..it seems more then yer muscles tell tales of giant-blood, donit!" Her hands went down, fingers wrapping around his quickly hardening cock as she looked into his eyes.

He grunted, leaning in to nip at her nose in a gesture of affection usually reserved for man and wife.

She looked surprised but returned the gesture, her lips kissing his broad nose, nipping the skin.

"Good lass.." He murmured, continuing to stroke and kiss her.

She looked amused at that comment and smiled, tossing her fiery-red hair back over her shoulders before leaning down against him.

He met her in a deep kiss, and they stood, groping one another with him leading the charge and making her move backward -- step by step until she bumped against the cold, stone wall.

There he held her, his hands firmly grasping her thick wrists. He could not understand how humans preferred their women to have sprigs and splinters for limbs. Sometimes it disgusted him. He let go of her left wrist, smacking her left part of the rear.

She gave an approving sound against his lips, her hand coming up to tangle in his thick, long beard of brown hair. Her grip was firm as she kissed, her fingers continually stroking the thick braids of the facial hair.

He turned, pushing her over to the table where he sat her down on a height where he could easily reach her, if he should want to take things much further.

Which he did.

He spread her legs with one hand with the other still busy at her breasts.

"Oooh...ye forward man, you." She commented, though it didn't sound like a complaint.

Especially not with the grin on her face when she leaned back on the table, easily spreading apart for him.

"Ye bet yer arse." He assured her, running one thick-fingered hand ripe with callouses over her soft belly. Without preamble, he moved into a better position and ran a large index finger over her sex, confirming the wetness that was shining for him to see clearly.

"mmm" Her moan came easily at his touch and she pushed her hips closer to him, encouraging more. "Go on, do it. Let me feel yer fingers in me before yer cock, will you."

He obliged her, easily pressing the index finger into her wet channel. The flesh gave way easily and he noted immediately just how ready she was.

"Ah! Yeah, ye bastard. Bugger me with yer fingers, will ye!" She cried out, hips thrusting upward against his hand.

He put the other hand on her lower stomach, holding her down with ease as he started fingerfucking the young, red-haired dwarf laid out before him. Her smooth skin and soft flesh quivered beneath his fingers and every movement of the digit pushing it's way in and out of her sex caused her to wetten further.

"Ah! Fuck, aye! Do it! Harder, fuck me hole!" Her voice rose, every thrust accompanied by a perverse exclamation from her. "Ngh! Aye, that's iiiit..." Her voice trailed off into a long, deep moan and she flexed her hands, clenching fingers into fists where she lay.

The scent and surrounding had quickly turned to a mixture of the heat from the forge outside, the heat from their body within and the scent of molten metal that always permeated the air was coupled with the scent of female.

Not just any female either -- dwarven females smelled much better then human or other, he thought. Musky and not as sickly sweet.

She didn't seem to get enough of the fingering he gave her and continued thrusting and pushing against his finger, encouraging him to do more, give her more. After a while however, he decided to push the entire thing forward -- literally -- and moved against her, pressing his thick, purple cockhead against her opening to give her some short warning.

A warning that made her eyes widen before he firmly gave it to her, slamming his cock in deep down her sex.

"Aah! Ye buggering..." She groaned. "..bastard! Fine, then fuck me! Fuck me wet cunt good, ye hear! Fuck me, do it!"

He did. Gripping the sides of her hips, he drove his cock in and out of her, eliciting cries and moans from her with the movements. Her hands flexed and finally reached, grasping parts of his biceps in the fingers.

When she looked up at him, she was biting her lower lip viciously and the sounds that escaped from her closed mouth made him even hornier -- like the growls and groans of a caged snowcat.

"Lovely...fine pussy there..." He managed to get out between thrusts and involuntary moans of pleasure. He reached with one hand, grasping one of the breasts that bounced violently from the movements on the table. Had the table not been fastened to the floor, he was certain that it would be on the other side of the room now.

"Why thank ye...aah!" She began, closing her eyes mid-sentence when he thrust inside her hard enough to make her head shift backward and bounce slightly on the wood. "...ye fucking...Roughbeard" She panted with a sharp glare at him, belied by the way she increased the pace of her moving hips and thighs.

He shifted her, turning her over on her stomach and all fours which she readily accepted, then rammed inside her again.

"Yeeeess..Light above!" She exclaimed when he did, gripping the edge of the table hard enough to make the sturdy wood creak slightly. "Oh, fuck me good, ye horny bastard!"

Thorian pushed her down against the table by her head, gripping the thick curls of her read hair while slamming her like a hound would a bitch. He was glad that the sounds of the forge, the city and the inhabitants would serve to drown out what sound reached beyond the house. Most dwarves would look with contempt at most who did such things openly -- or spoke of them openly for that matter -- but in private, he had noticed that most dwarven women seemed as inclined to truly have sex as women of other races claimed to be.

"Aeeehhh! Fuck me ancestors, YES!"

She gave a loud, cry that he was afraid would be perfectly audible outside, regardless if there had been five-hundred smiths hammering a thousand breastplates and shook beneath him, her body moving in the familiar throes of climax. He gave a hard, shove. Then another, and another, and another. Harder and harder he pressed while she came, moaning and whimpering beneath him.

"Ah...gonna cum, lass." He warned her, pressing hard against her.

"Not in me! Cum on me, not in! Outside, dammit Cum on me back or me tits, ye hear!" Her voice was ragged and hoarse, and she seemed to not want to say what she was saying.

He growled in dismay but complied, pulling out of her and pushing her over on her back. She grinned up at him while he spurted long-needed relief over her breasts and stomach, spattering her pale skin with seed.

12