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Summary
Above all, Aziraphale had taken the keenest liking to the taste of Crowley’s cunt. Though, ‘liking’ was not a strong enough word - he adored it, craved it, was an absolute glutton for it. From the first touch of his tongue to those throbbing folds, he was insatiable, devouring Crowley like the starved creature he’d been before that fateful night in Job’s cellar. After all, he had certainly been hungry for more than just food.
Aziraphale enjoyed Crowley the same way he enjoyed a meal - ravenously.
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Of course, nothing made Crowley happier than watching his angel cum. His body would light up - sometimes literally - with a sort of pure, unadulterated joy, and the sounds he’d make then could rival the oeuvre of any composer in the known universe. But, Crowley had found it markedly difficult to resist his innate ophidian biology on the journey to said ecstasy - though frankly, he’d also discovered that indulging in it from time-to-time ultimately fostered a uniquely euphoric experience for them both.
Crowley’s a snake - he likes to play with his food.
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In which Aziraphale indulges in his favorite meal, then Crowley has a go at making his angel see stars.
Series
- Part 6 of the flash bastard and the southern pansy
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