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It was another dark and porny night, the type of night that had become more and more common over the past two years. Aziraphale wasn’t sure exactly what had fueled all of the dark and porny energy he seemed to feel whenever Crowley was near, but he wasn’t going to complain. He’d had dream after dream and multiple fantasies come true since that night two years ago when his life had taken what he liked to think of as its “After Dark turn.”
Aziraphale was still an angel of course, but now he felt free to let his desires and naughty thoughts run wild, especially when it came to the demon Crowley. Today was going to be a wonderfully porny day, he could just feel it in the way his shoes squelched through the book shop. There was also the bonus that today was Aziraphale’s birthday. While he’d technically been born before time existed, he’d needed to choose a date when he was filling out his tax paperwork, and today was that day!
Just then the bell hanging over the door jingled and Crowley sauntered into the shop, his shoes schlorping strangely on the floor. He stripped off his sunglasses, and Aziraphale felt a deliciously hot and horny jolt in his celestial shaft. If only Crowley would strip off something else.
Crowley casually bent over to tie a shoelace, his bum raised temptingly in the air.
“Eeep,” Aziraphale squeaked. “I mean, eat! Some cake!” he quickly added, staring at the most luscious cake ever to be clad in tight black denim.
“Hello, angel, speaking of cake, I'm expecting a delivery from the bakers before you close for the day. You wouldn't have seen any packages today by any chance?” He sauntered over towards the desk and spotted a number of envelopes and parcels. “My, someone's popular today.”
“Yes, well, it's my…”
Just as Aziraphale began to explain, the shop door opened and the largest box of all arrived. It was being carted by a familiar looking delivery man… Aziraphale swore he was the spitting image of a handyman they’d met once, but no, this was a delivery man.
“I’ve got quite a package here,” the man said, wheeling in the very large box. It barely fit through the door and was almost as tall as Aziraphale. He had ordered a special surprise, though that wasn’t supposed to be delivered until tonight. “For an Anthony Janthony Crowley?”
“That’s me. Thank you, I can take it from here.” Crowley stepped forward. Using what was surely a feat of demonic strength he lifted the box from the delivery man’s cart, his muscles rippling with his effort. Aziraphale hadn’t realized Crowley was so adept at handling boxes, though he did know what to do with a package.
Once the delivery man had gone, Crowley turned to Aziraphale. “Angel, I’ve got a surprise for you, but you need to step out for a bit so I can get it ready. Give me fifteen minutes.”
Eager for a surprise, and so very curious, Aziraphale agreed, leaving the bookshop to check the status of his own package. The fifteen minutes flew by and Aziraphale stepped back into the bookshop.
His eyes lit up with excitement, but also a bit of confusion to find a giant cake in the middle of his shop. He’d just come from the baker, and his cake wasn’t supposed to be ready yet. Where had it come from?
“Crowley? Where did you go?” He said, seeing no sign of Crowley nor a surprise. His lip jutted out in a pout.
“Ah, well,” he shrugged, Crowley was always disappearing strangely, especially when it was dark and porny out. “May as well get on with my Great Plan for today!” He chuckled at his own blasphemy as he started stripping down right there in the book shop. He hummed jauntily to himself as he shed his bow tie—
“NGK!”
Aziraphale looked up in surprise. Where had that strange, throaty noise just come from? He listened for a moment and then dismissed it, going back to carefully pulling his tie out of his collar. He stopped again when he swore he heard a soft whimper. Continuing, he unbuttoned his waistcoat (“Oh, fuck,” said the disembodied voice), slowly took off his shirt and suit coat (more garbled whining followed). The voice was familiar, of course, but he finally located its source. It was coming from inside the cake. Realisation dawned on Aziraphale, though he was still confused, since he was meant to be inside the cake that wasn’t supposed to have been delivered yet. But he could work with this.
“So, it’s a striptease,” he murmured to himself, before making a show of unzipping his trousers. He smirked with pride when the cake started to tremble. He turned so his bum was aimed right at the cake as he wiggled out of his tan trousers, hoping the mysterious moaning cake would enjoy his tartan backside. “Oh dear, I believe I’ve dropped my pen.”
He bent over sensually, porny waves of energy flowing from him toward the now vibrating cake, and snapped back up, hands by his chest shaped like a T-Rex’s. If he had turned around then, he would’ve noticed the cake’s frosting had begun to melt and drip, staining the carpet with a sticky white liquid.
“Oh, there it is! What a clumsy angel I’ve become, and on my birthday of all days. If only there were someone around here to tie me up, make me keep my hands still...” He smirked a bastardly smirk as the frosting squelched even louder and he did his best to show off his angel cake.
Aziraphale took his time to caress the sides of his body. He let out a soft sigh as he felt the touch ignite a fire that traveled straight to his man candle like a flame on a wick. He slid his pants down over his hips, leaving him fully nude, and the cake got even louder.
“AWOOOGA OOOOGA,” noises came from the cake as the hedonistic little angel caressed his arse and massaged his posterior cheeks.
Aziraphale shimmied his hips and spun in a circle, all while humming a jaunty little “happy birthday to meeee.” His duodecimeter dong dangled delightfully between his daringly deft legs as he danced across the dewy floor.
“Oh if only I had someone who would dance with me on this very special day!” he called out to the seemingly empty room. “There’s nothing I would love more than to gleefully gavotte across the room with a gorgeous gentleman, before diving into this Genoise.”
A muffled shout emitted from the luscious cake and Aziraphale could only shake his bundt even more.
“Ah, well, I suppose if no one else is available I can always ask Mr. Brown if he would entertain me on his new shag carpets!”
The cake behind Aziraphale bumbled and rumbled. It almost tumbled as a loud voice inside exclaimed, “Gerrrroffff neeeooofffffnoooo! Whhhaaaaaaeeeeddd naaangggll!”
Aziraphale spun in a single pirouette before waltzing to the closet to retrieve his top hat and eyeliner. He placed the hat jauntily on his head before bending over to look in the small mirror on the desk, his ample arse on full display as he lined his eyes and traced a curving moustache over his top lip. It was not his best work, he thought, but it was difficult to keep a clean line while wriggling your rump in front of a talking cake.
“Ta!” he announced to no one in particular. “I shall be just across the street! Unless someone here… needs me??”
A strangled scream emitted from the layers of heavy icing smothering the sumptuous sweet.
“Gaaaaahhhh—OOF!—” The cake trembled with a sudden thud. “Mmheeeelalp! Mm’stuuuck! Aaaye cannae gerrrup!”
“Oh my dear!” Aziraphale called out. “Crowley! Never fear! I shall rescue you!”
Aziraphale slid across the swampy floor back to the pernicious pudding. He studied the cake but alas! He could find no entry, not even a ready back door! Perhaps it was some kind of upside down cake, though there didn’t seem to be a pineapple in sight.
He moaned as he mused to himself, “Oh what shall I do?” Aziraphale tapped his chin thoughtfully as his massive manhood mashed into the mushy butter icing. He did always like a poke cake. “Aha! I must masticate this marvelous… mmmmmcake!” And with that Aziraphale began merrily munching his way to emancipate his dear demon.
He grabbed thick, sticky handfuls of buttercream and sponge and crammed them in his eager mouth, moaning with pleasure as he swallowed them down. The cake continued to whine and vibrate as he got closer to his goal with each delectable mouthful. Soon, as he dug in for a particularly large handful, his fingers made contact with something smooth and hard.
“Oh!” he exclaimed, tossing the handful of cake on the floor, and focusing on the prize in front of him. “This cake has a sausage filling! A surprise, to be sure, but a welcome one!”
Aziraphale knelt before the tasty, frosting covered chorizo. He licked a little glob of buttercream off the tip, and the cake gave a seismic shift. He licked along the shaft, slurping sweet cream into his mouth as he went. The cake was wavering dangerously now, threatening to topple over. Finally, he sucked the entire sausage into his mouth and the cake gave way. Aziraphale released the cake cock just in time. An avalanche of cake and naked demon fell upon him.
“There you are, darling,” he said to the sticky demon on top of him.
“An-chi-El,” Crowley squeaked out, taking a breath as he clumsily clung to Aziraphale while giggling. “Happy birthday to usss.”
“Us? It’s your birthday, too?” Aziraphale’s frosting filled brow furrowed.
“It is. Seems we both picked today as our human birthday.”
“And you were jumping out of a cake for your own birthday?”
“It made sense yesterday.” Crowley shrugged and Aziraphale wanted to lick those handsome cream covered shoulders. ”It’s my birthday, help me celebrate.”
They looked at one another with glee and a flash of loving endearment. Then, grabbing at one another for a slippery, gooey kiss, They tasted the frosting mixed with each other’s salt as they sucked and licked it off of the other’s thirsty lips.
Crowley was slippery and sticky now that he was covered in cake and icing. Aziraphale could have sworn there was meant to be a compartment to hide in, but Crowley really took “hiding in a cake” seriously. He looked absolutely delicious.
“Oh dear,” Aziraphale moaned as Crowley licked frosting from his neck. “I’m afraid we’re both quite messy.”
“We best do something about that then, angel.” Crowley was very thankful to finally be out of that cake. Aziraphale’s cake wiggling across the room had made it far too warm inside all of those layers of sponge and buttercream. He was quite thankful he’d been freed, though his cakepop still throbbed with need.
He stroked and rubbed at the squelching confection covering the angel’s body, trying to expose more of his delectable skin. Aziraphale’s hands were everywhere, as though he was a creature with many hands instead of many eyes. Crowley groaned and moaned, shrieking with pleasure when Aziraphale fondled his eggs and stroked his whisk. Crowley couldn’t wait to lick the extra batter, reaching for Aziraphale’s mixing spoon.
“Oh, darling, I can’t believe you put yourself in that cake just for me.”
“Anything for you, Angel, I know how dessert makes you moan… and I’d be happy to provide you with a little extra drizzle of glaze.”
“Please, Crowley, I need you to layer my cake… I want to be cream filled before the night is over.”
And Aziraphale dived back onto his becaked boyfriend, licking and moaning, devouring his confectionary coated cock. Alternating little kisses and nibbles with long licks, seemingly never going to be satiated. “Oh darling, this flavour is delightful, white chocolate and…? I've got the taste of nuts coming through!”
Crowley was also eagerly guzzling at the dollops of dough on Aziraphale's corporation. “Pisssstacio.” He hissed before using his clever serpentine tongue to wiggle between fingertips, until one angelic hand was fully cleaned.
It was all for nothing when the bastard immediately took said hand and, running it up and down Crowley's chest, scooped up further frosting. With a twinkle in his eye he took a particularly icing covered digit and began to circle the demon’s downstairs cake hole.
Crowley let out a whimper as he reacted to the touch. His mind went fully offline when Aziraphale shimmied down his body and began to lick the icing back off him, moaning like he'd invented the greatest flavour combination yet.
He couldn’t help the writhing of his body as Aziraphale licked and touched him everywhere, as though he were covered in a thousand tongues instead of eyes and they were licking every one of Crowley’s erogenous zones.
“Oh, Angel, yesss…. Hnnnngggh hrrrgggg oh, pleeease…. More mo… mo…mo… more!” He wasn’t sure if it was a finger or a tongue but something was penetrating him in the most glorious way.
Crowley reached for Azirphale’s fat cock, coating it in a thick layer of icing, stroking it until Aziraphale cried out, pausing his onslaught at Crowley’s hole.
“My darling, oh, that feels so simply divine.”
“Need it, Angel, stick this divinity deep in my arse, please.” Crowley yearned for it, that frosting covered cake pop of delight.
“As you wish.” Aziraphale stilled his hand, Crowley let go with a squelch, before Azirpahale kissed him tenderly, and pushed him back onto the remnants of the giant cake he’d leapt out of.
“Not quite a bed, but it will do,” Crowley said with a laugh before pulling him closer, both of their nethers now fully lubricated with buttercream, and ready for that final dollop of frosting.
Aziraphale pushed in with a moan. “Wowieee! You’re so tight and sweet, the only cake I’ll ever want for this kind of treat.”
“Hnnngh, Angel, you’ve stuffed me like a cannoli… keep going!”
Aziraphale thrust with abandon into Crowley’s slick sugar hole, slowing to grind their sticky hips together like a Kitchen Aid mixer set on low.
“Oh, yeah, mix me, baby. Whip my cream into stiff peaks,” Crowley moaned, clutching at Aziraphale’s buttery buns.
Pumping and bumping, moaning and groaning, bucking and fucking they raced towards their climax. The cake beneath them became a mattressy mush of crumbs and cream, slippery and squelchy, and very, very sticky.
“Angel, I'm about to…!”
“Crowley, yes! Yes! Do it! I need your frosting all over me!”
They panted their words teetering on the edge until they barreled over, climaxed to the max, spurting over and into each other like out of control cans of squirty cream. Their bodies were slick with sweat and cake and come. Deliciously debauched and utterly done in, they clung together in a tight embrace and allowed their corporations to calm, whispering sweet nothings over the sweet treat.
When there was a knock on the door. “Bakery delivery!” a voice shouted, “did someone order a cake? It's a big ‘un”
They both glanced toward the door before looking back at each other with dark and porny grins.
“I suppose this means we can continue this birthday celebration all night long.”
“Just all night, Angel? I’m thinking we celebrate all year.”
******
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, GOAD!!