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Aziraphale stared at the flyer quizzically. It had slipped through the mail slot of the bookshop at some point during the day without his knowledge (although he could have sworn he never had a mail slot in the door (he had in fact never had a mail slot, but he did have a mischievous demon)) and he had trod upon it rather unceremoniously when he went to flip the sign from open to closed.
“SHAFTSPOUSE FOR HIRE” it read in an eyeball assaulting magenta tone. Below it was a picture of a bearded man wearing a canvas utility apron and nothing else, holding a cordless drill, his eyebrow raised saucily.
Aziraphale pursed his lips thoughtfully and read the smaller copy at the bottom of the flyer. "Need a nail? Pipes need laying? Looking for a quick drill? Found a shaft that needs a good lube? Look no further! I'll Crank You, local handyman services for hire!”
A phone number across the bottom of the paper completed the advert. Aziraphale set it down on his desk and tapped it thoughtfully. There was something to be said for having things done by hand instead of miracles. And well, if he was stimulating the local economy and workforce, so much the better. He picked up the phone and rang Crowley.
Crowley finally picked up, his voice sleepy and gravelly. “Wot?”
“Crowley — I have exciting news,” Aziraphale announced. “I think I’ve found a man who can do hand jobs for us!”
A splutter crackled across the line. “Excuse me?”
“A hand job man — you know, a fellow who can screw and nail things around the bookshop that need seeing to. Perhaps he can give you that blow job you said you needed.”
“Ngk?” Crowley choked out. “WOT?”
“A blow job — for the Bentley’s tyres! You mentioned they were a bit flaccid the other day.”
“Angel,” Crowley said evenly. “I think you mean a handyman.”
“Oh, yes, a… handsy man,” Aziraphale repeated, glancing at the flyer again. He paused, taking a few moments to appreciate the man’s physique beneath the apron. “He looks like a very capable fellow. I think I’ll have him pop by.”
“I’d better come over,” Crowley muttered.
“Of course, dear. It would be lovely to see you, and I’m sure the handsy man would be happy to service you as well.” Aziraphale was so very excited, he had so many things that could use a little tuning up in the bookshop.
Crowley simply made a growling sound and must have hung up the phone, for all Aziraphale could hear was a strange tone coming through the line. He put the receiver down for just a moment before picking it back up and dialing the number on the flyer.
“Shaftspouse, how can I crank you today?” A deep voice answered after the first ring.
“Hello, yes, I’ve received your very wonderful flyer in my slot, and I believe I am in need of your services. I dearly need a hand job here in my bookshop, and I think you’re just the right handsy man for me.”
“I’m at your service, Mr...?”
“Fell, Mr Fell if you please. When can you start?”
“I can come anytime you want me to.”
“Oh lovely, I’d be so pleased if you could come for me right now. And don’t forget to bring your toolbox, we definitely will need to make use of your hammer.” Aziraphale could picture it, this handsome handsy man nailing that creaky bookshelf right back in place with his big, hard hammer.
With an exchange of address and service rates, Aziraphale hung up the phone with a huge smile on his face. Oh, the things that could be fixed by such a skilled handsy man.
The little bell over the door tinkled and Crowley walked in, as if he’d been parked simply around the corner when Aziraphale had called.
“Crowley, I’m so glad you’re here. The handsy man is coming right now! Isn’t that exciting?!”
“Handyman, Aziraphale. HANDY. Man. Handsy is a whole different thing.” Crowley leaned in and looked over the top of his glasses, “I can show you what handsy means.”
“There’s no time to look up words in dictionaries right now, Crowley! I’m trying to make a mental list of all the things he could do for us around here,” Aziraphale dismissed him, excitedly prancing around the bookshop. “I was thinking he could nail me against that wall—”
Crowley waited for clarification. “Nail you?”
“Yes, this picture of me, you see. A real Rembrandt!”
The demon let out a relieved breath. “Of course.”
“Also, wouldn’t it be something if he screwed us?” Aziraphale beamed, and Crowley waited once more. “In the bedroom, you know. Well, on the bed.” Another beat went by. “Like, the wooden sculptures of us?”
Crowley let out a flustered breath and nodded. “Sounds alright.”
The angel went around the bookshop, pointing at all he wanted done and where, somehow making everything sound like sex. Crowley found himself growing quite horny for his angel.
The doorbell tinkled. “Hello! I’m Shaftspouse. I was called for a good nailing? I brought my firmest shaft for this job.”
Aziraphale rushed over to greet the visitor, who was even more handsome in person. The angel licked his lips running his eyes over Shaftspouse’s tight t-shirt and extremely snug shorts. “My, what big tools you have, Mr Shaft!”
“Whatever it takes to do the job!” Shaftspouse grinned.
Crowley eyed the handyman with growing interest. Perhaps he could think of a few things for the hunky gent to drill. He sauntered over, his hips swaying like drunk chinchillas.
"Come here, if you don’t mind,” said Aziraphale. “You can have a look at my little doodad! It’s an antique!”
“I don’t judge the age of anyone’s baubles, it’s all about how you use them!”
Aziraphale puffed up. “Oh, excellent. I'm afraid the crank on my gramophone is stuck. No matter how hard I tug on the shaft, it won't work!”
Shaftspouse bent over to have a look at the music machine, his tight shorts falling below the crack of his arse. It was around this time that Crowley strolled closer and stopped to gape at the fine crevice of the…
“Ngk,” said Crowley, looking like he would happily take a million-light-year freestyle dive into that pool of boiling sulphur.
The handsyman stood upright again, nodding. “You’re so very right, Mr Fell. Your shaft definitely needs a hefty application of slick lubrication. I’ll rub it down with my bespoke InsouciantDragFish Oil lube!”
“His—His what?” said Crowley.
“This lovely apparatus he was showing me!” Shaftspouse moved out of the way to show Crowley the gramophone.
“Oh, yes. Right. Well,” Crowley sputtered, “Erm, you could possibly take a look at an apparatus of mine, if you have time.”
“Yours?” said Aziraphale, rosy cheeks turning a sudden shade of green. “Nonsense, this is my shop. You don’t have any—”
“In the Bentley! I’ve got loads of things that need servicing. My poor car hasn’t been seen to since I bought her. She’s in desperate need of servicing!”
“Splendid, more handy jobs!” said Shaftspouse, “I could always do with a few extra pounds! Let me fetch my hardware.”
Crowley bit his lower lip and wondered how to get Shaftspouse to use the demonic hardware in his pants. “Let me come with you, give you a hand.”
“By all means! I enjoy when people give me a hand.”
“And what about my own crank?!” Aziraphale protested.
“Oh, I apologise. I do get easily distracted...” Shaftspouse averted his eyes with a smirk.
“I think I need a belt loosened and my fluids topped off,” Crowley hinted. “I mean, the Bentley does.”
“Let me get in there and tinker around, and I’ll have you purring again in no time,” the handyman winked. “I’ll see to Mr. Fell’s crank problem, and then once that shaft is well lubed, we can step outside and take a peek at your long sleek ride.”
“Wait, I have a crank problem that’s more urgent!” Crowley cried out… “The Bentley crank, that I need to get the motor running… it needs a very firm hand, and I wish I could turn it on more easily. Won’t you see to my crank needs first? The shaft on my crank is longer, you might need both hands.”
“Crowley,” Aziraphale scolded, “I believe I was the one who summoned this very handy handsyman, he should be servicing my needs first. My shaft needs significant lubricating.”
“Oh, don’t worry, there is plenty of Shaftspouse to go around, I’ll see to all your shafts before the day is done. I wouldn’t mind getting a look at that Bentley, just to see what I’m working with so I can determine the best way to fully service both of your needs.”
Aziraphale reluctantly agreed, not wanting to make the handsome handsyman unhappy, plus, the Bentley was outside, in public, surely the more in depth servicing would take place in the bookshop. He also appreciated the view as dual perky buttocks walked out of the shop ahead of him. Crowley’s black denim clad buttocks shimmied with those slinky motions of his hips, and Shaftspouse, oh, the buttocks on that handsyman… Aziraphale wanted to put some handsies on those beautiful jiggling orbs.
“EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE SHAFTY!!!” A high pitched voice howled as they stepped out onto the street.
Mrs. Sandwich bustled across the road, her hands a flutter. “Shafty, my darlin’, I’m so glad to see you!! You see… my sewing machine is in desperate need of some…. servicing.”
A wide grin crossed Shaftspouse’s face as he tossed his long hair over his shoulder with a practised flick. Aziraphale's hands clenched involuntarily watching Mrs. Sandwich place an affectionate hand on that broad chest.
“Why Mrs. Sandwich, I haven't heard from you in ages! I was sure you had forgotten all about me!”
“Oh my word no, Shafty my darling, but so many needles to thread, so little time, and all that.”
The handsyman, to Aziraphale's growing horror, slung an arm over Mrs. Sandwich’s shoulders and laughed knowledgeably.
“Well my dear, what can we at ‘I'll Crank You’ do for you today? I'm just helping these gents out at the mo’ but I'll pop right over as soon as I'm done. Never would do to leave a lady without her most important tools of the trade.”
Mrs. Sandwich licked her lips salaciously and eyed the very same tight shorts that Aziraphale had been mentally discorporating a few moments earlier.
“Well the needles I have in the shop just aren't quite pricking things like they used to, I'm in desperate need of a refresher.”
“Ah yes” Shaftspouse nodded sagely, “Nothing more dangerous than dull pricks. I have just the thing to bring them back up to snuff.”
Aziraphale looked wildly at Crowley. DO SOMETHING his face seemed to say. Crowley nodded imperceptibly, narrowed his eyes at the interloper and clicked his fingers subtly. A dreamy look came across Mrs. Sandwich’s face and she took her hand off Shaftspouse’s chest.
“Oh, you know I've just realised I left a pigeon trussed up like a ham in the office. I'd better go pour it some whiskey.”
She turned and shuffled away, not noticing the mildly perplexed but amused face on the man behind her. Crowley cleared his throat and the handyman turned with a smouldering look.
“Now, about that Bentley, let's see if we can get your pistons pumping.”
“Wait!” Aziraphale cried with a pouty lip and eye lashes all a-flutter. “Don't forget my motor needs cranking too.”
Crowley raised an eyebrow.
Shaftspouse smiled indulgently between the horny pair and began to get out his hefty tool. Might as well fool about under the bonnet while they sorted themselves out.
“My shop's motor. My shop.” The angel reclined back against the window, caressing the window glass suggestively.
“And,” Crowley draped himself against Bentley's door, his hips wiggling. “It was agreed that the Bentley would be serviced and inspected first so we all knew what we were up against.” He wet his lips. “So to speak.”
“I'm sure your dipstick is fine, Crowley. Whereas there are things in the shop that need an urgent hammering before they droop.” Aziraphale's eyes narrowed. “The handsy man came into the shop first.”
“But-” the demon began to protest above the grunting of the handy handsy man from beneath his hood.
“Crowley, you leave me no choice!” Still posing against the shop, the angel raised his hand and very slowly, began to loosen his bowtie.
“No fair!” Crowley cried. “He was so close to my massive power cap.”
Shaftspouse sighed like a man as yet to be satisfied and the Bentley’s hood thunked closed. “Sorry gents, my shaft is too big for the hole. Let's do the shop first and I can come again later with different equipment. I can even bring my special trolley to reach the really deep parts underneath.”
The trio returned to the bookshop, Crowley and Aziraphale eyeing each other warily.
“I know you’ve already checked the shaft on my crank, but maybe first you could do a little nailing? I’ve already prepared the hole.” Aziraphale directed Shaftspouse toward the wall where he’d marked the spot that needed nailing. If he also offered his tantalising backside on the way, well that was his business.
“I do like a well prepared hole, you want to make sure the shaft… of the nail… goes in easily, but doesn’t slip out unexpectedly. I’ll fill your hole first, let me get out my tool.”
“Can I help you with your tool?” Crowley jumped forward, stepping between Aziraphale and the handyman, just itching to get his hands on him. He was growing desperate, and so turned on by the handsome handyman and all the talk of shafts. He needed to be serviced or be of service right now.
“It’s a very large tool, I might need the both of you to handle it.” Shaftpsouse turned, a lascivious look in his eyes. He, too, seemed to be feeling the lustfully charged energy in the bookshop.
“Oh, we’d be very glad to help with your tool.” Aziraphale stepped closer again, bumping shoulders with Crowley as they crowded Shaftspouse against a thick, firm, and very full bookshelf.
“It’s right here, I keep my tool the same place I hope you both keep yours.” Shaftspouse gestured sexily at his crotch, thrusting it forward into the frame he’d made with his hands.
“You’re also welcome to examine my tool. It’s very firm and in need of a good rubdown. One must care properly for their tools.” Crowley thrust his own hips forward, his tight trousers having grown even tighter at all the talk of tools and shafts. He then reached out, also wanting to stroke the bulge in the handyman’s pants, but stopping just short of touching him. He looked up, his serpentine eyes finding deep pools of electrifying hazel. He could get lost in the sexiness of those eyes. Eyes that said, yes, touch my throbbing tool, I want you to.
Crowley reached, and Aziraphale reached… and the handyman also made his move. They all moaned in unison as their hands found the waiting, throbbing members in all of their pants. Aziraphale and Crowley were able to share in the ample bulge of the handyman, while Shaftspouse settled a firm hand over each of their celestial erections.
“I see you both are looking for a different kind of servicing, in addition to my usual handyman services.” Shaftspouse said, his voice dropping several hundred octaves. It was so low and sexy, that they both felt the vibrations of his voice deep in their bones. As if he was speaking somehow through the connection of his hand on their needy weenies. “I’d gladly provide you both with whatever you need.”
“Oh yes.” Crowley and Aziraphale cried out in unison, their hips thrusting into the handyman’s strong hands. They both whimpered when Shaftspouse pulled his hand away, but then they GASPED as he pulled them both against him.
He parked each of them on his thick, muscular thighs, letting them grind their schlongs against him. They both instinctively gripped a strong shoulder to help anchor them against the big, tall, handyman.
“Oh my, your thigh.” Aziraphale cried, riding that tree trunk of a leg. Shaftspouse turned to him, their faces just millimetres apart, and kissed him gently, a long tongue snaking into Aziraphale’s mouth.
“Me too, me too!” Crowley demanded, also riding that thigh like he owned it, begging for his own kisses. Shaftspouse broke his kiss with Aziraphale, his tongue schlorping out of the angel’s mouth, before he sloppily settled his lips over Crowley’s. Aziraphale was immediately consumed with envy at the sight.
“Kiss me again!” he begged. Crowley pouted as Shaftspouse broke their kiss to lay another wet one on Aziraphale.
“Angel!” Crowley whined, rutting against Shaftspouse’s turgid thigh like a demon possessed, “It was just getting good!”
“Now, now, chaps,” Shaftspouse soothed, “There’s plenty of me to go around.” He gave each of them a bump to the junk with his succulent drumsticks to drive the point home. The angel and demon let out dual wanton moans at the jolting friction. “And you know,” he added, “you can also kiss each other. In fact, I wouldn’t mind taking a gander at that.”
Aziraphale and Crowley looked deep into each other’s massively dilated eyes. They raised their eyebrows sluttily at each other before smashing their faces together in a face-eating kiss. Shaftspouse chuckled deep in his scruffy, beefy, tantalising chest and gripped an arsecheek each to encourage the angel and demon to continue humping his thighs.
The two rutted frantically, almost competitively, as they chased their pleasure while continuing to devour each other’s mouths. In the end, Crowley came first, hissing into the angel’s mouth and soaking his tight lil’ pants. The whole ordeal was too much for Aziraphale who came buckets inside his own tartan undies shortly after.
“Wowwwwwie…” Shaftspouse enthusiastically rasped. “Gosh, look at you two sauce pots. This handyman has certainly enjoyed tweaking your handles. Looks like we need to break out the jizz mop to clean you two boys up, eh?” He chuckled. “Or maybe you should just take those sticky clothes off.” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.
Still riding the afterglow of his mindblowing hump-gasm, Aziraphale snapped his fingers, making all their clothing disappear.
“Hello, Mr Fell?” a voice called out just then. “Are you here?”
The three naked man-shaped beings froze, still straddled together like a sex-crazed Cirque du Soleil act.
“It’s Muriel!” Aziraphale whispered, his nip nops nipping into nervous nubs.
“Who’s Muriel and would they like to make use of my services?” Shaftspouse said, pulling Aziraphale and Crowley even tighter against him, the slide of naked flesh making them both moan.
“No,” Crowley said, a hint of jealousy in his voice. “They are far too-ooo-ohhh innocent for this. Angel, doooo something.”
“Just a moment,” he called out, thinking fast. With another snap of his fingers he conjured an exotic paper screen to hide their continuing naked gyrations from Muriel’s virgin eyes. “It’s… Uh..ooooh.. not really a good time, Muriel.”
He hoped Muriel would stay by the door and not venture further into the shop, but at least they’d have a little privacy if Muriel came closer.
“Is everything okay? You sound strange.”
Aziraphale cringed as he heard footsteps come closer. “Yes, everything’s fine.” He had to hold back a groan as he shifted against the handyman’s luscious thigh, his cock again hard. They needed to get Muriel out of here. He was momentarily distracted and jealous to note that Crowley and Shaftspouse were kissing again, completely ignoring their current predicament.
“Are you behind that fancy screen? It’s very pretty. I didn’t know you had something so nice in your shop.”
“Don’t come any closer, there’s…” A thick shaft tickled at his fluttering hole, one of Shaftspouse’s many fingers, teasing him. Aziraphale groaned, desperate to be filled…”There’s been a problem, a bit of a mess over here, behind the screeeeeeeeen…. I… I… I’m just cleaning…”
“Oh, can I help?”
“NO!” he said loudly. “Yes, more, give me another,” he whispered when the finger breaching his bottom paused.
Crowley stopped kissing Shaftspouse long enough to smirk at Aziraphale, reaching a hand out to grip his buttock, to open him even more for those fingers.
“No, thank you Muuuuurrrrrrr… Muriellllllllll.” That finger was slick and wiggling, joined by another thick digit. Aziraphale rutted against the juicy thigh still between his legs, desperate for more sensation.
Loving the feeling of being impaled by the handyman’s handy tools, he tried to focus on speaking. “We’ve got it under control… If you could come back later,” He said all in a rush, needing Muriel to disappear.
“Are you sure?”
“Ye— ye— yes…. Quite. HOLY CHORIZO!” He yelled as one of Crowley’s long fingers joined the two shaft fingers already rocking his arsehole.
“Chorizo?” Muriel said quizzically.
“Ah, yes. I’ve got a real… hankering for chorizo. Perhaps you could pick some up and join us for lun…ahhh,” Crowley’s serpentine finger fingered just the right spot. “Dinner, for dinner, many hours from now, yes… come back in four, five or perhaps seven to eight hours from now… we can have a late dinner.”
“Oh, how lovely! I will get the chorizo and see you for a late dinner in seven or eight hours.”
“Lovely, yes,” he managed, though it was a struggle the way he was being manhandled. He was grateful to have spared Muriel the sight of this fantastic debauchery. “Thank you. Good day.”
“Goodbye, Mr. Fell. Say hi to Mr. Crowley for me.”
He listened as footsteps retreated and the bell over the door tinkled. Aziraphale let out a breath before gasping, glad he no longer needed to hold back.
“Oh yes,” he cried, “You really are a handy man! Those things you can do with your hands...”
Aziraphale leaned in to kiss Shaftspouse as he rode his leg and his fingers, before returning his attention to Crowley, who continued to also work his slick finger in Azirpahale’s overfilled, throbbing, tight hole.
Their lips met in a magical kiss, so filled with lust and love. Crowley’s tongue slid into Aziraphale’s mouth and he was delighted to feel all of his holes being filled. His cock rubbed against the lush thighs of the handyman, and he could feel it already responding to the stimuli.
Shaftspouse’s own shaft was very happy to be there amongst all the attention. He loved giving top service to his clients so much, people would call him a ‘service top’.
Crowley pulled away and tugged at Shaftspouse’s crank, ran his thumb through the pearl forming on its head. “You beautiful man,” he said before closing the distance to kiss the handy man again.
Aziraphale rocked his hips back and encouraged them to impale him deeper and faster. “Please, take me— Please!”
Shaftspouse smirked against Crowley’s mouth, and they shared a knowing look. Without speaking, they took their fingers out of Aziraphale with a schlurpy noise and turned him around, allowed him to rub against Shaftspouse’s shaft for a moment, his tip teasing the angel’s entrance, before the now miraculously lubed crank (thank you, Crowley dear) made its way into Aziraphale’s wanting hole.
Aziraphale wanted to be forever pressed to that dad bod. “Do me, daddy,” the angel moaned.
Shaftspouse cackled. “Daddy? I’ll teach you the alphabet. Want to learn the letter H?”
Crowley smirked and stood before Aziraphale as Shaftspouse had the angel bend over, his face a breath away from Crowley’s hardening cock. The demon was ready for the taking as the angel licked his lips and opened up his mouth wide.
“I do love when there’s more than one sausage,” Shaftspouse sighed as he began to fuck the angel. The motions made him move forward and take Crowley’s snakey crank as deep as he could.
With each thrust of Shaftspouse’s crank, Aziraphale’s sucking became more vigorous on Crowley’s hot, throbbing demon-meat.
The room was filled with a mixture of deep moans and groans, along with some muffled noises from Azirpahale moaning around the thick cock in his mouth.
“How about the letter A?” Crowley said, leaning forward over Aziraphale, his and Shaftspouse’s perfect heights allowing them to kiss over Aziraphale’s back, still thrusting in and out of him. But that wasn’t what Crowley wanted, so he broke the kiss just to lean in even more, burying his face in Shaftspouse’s perky moobs…. With a shake of his face, he motored away between those two gorgeous orbs. “BLLLLLRLRRLLLRRLBBBBBLLRRLBB!!”
“Hrrrrrg, oh yes,” the handyman cried out, “A demon on my tits and an angel on my dick… how happy I am...” Grunt “ to be,” grunt “of service.”
“Bllllrrbbbbrrlrbbbrrrlllllbbrrl,” Crowley responded.
“Mmrmmphmmmrphrlmrpl,” Aziraphale also said as the demon and handyman continued to pound into him, his hand working frantically over his own straining erection.
“Hhhhhrrrrrggghhhhhhhrrrrrr,” Shaftspouse growled like a sexy 18-Volt lithium-ion cordless drill.
The bookshop shook with a growing crescendo of orgasmic babbling, the threesome gyrating and schlurping in a hot and sweaty alphabet-inspired orgy, until all three came simultaneously in a wet, sticky, seemingly endless spurt, all moaning, “Uuuuuhhhhnnnffffffff… oooohhhh…. Ooooooffff…. Yeahhhhhhh…I’m coming….hnnngg, blrlblblblblbrrrrllb…hhhrrrrrrnnng… weeoooweeeoo!”
Aziraphale sank fully to his knees, stuffed and satisfied at both ends. He glanced down, noticing for the first time that he had been leaning over a side table during his exertions. Sitting on top of the table was a plate of Oreos that he had set out earlier. He looked at the cookies quizzically.
How strange, he thought, isn’t the cream filling supposed to be on the inside? These biscuits have a thick coating of creamy icing on the outside as well. Well, I am a bit peckish after all that exercise.
Aziraphale reached for the plate, then remembered that it would be rude not to offer his guest a bite to eat. “Would you care for a treat?” Aziraphale asked, holding out the cream-covered Oreos to the sweaty, stick beings sharing his bookshop.
“I do like a motivational snack,” Shaftspouse replied between pants as they all tried to catch their breath. He popped a dripping Oreo into his mouth. “Wowie, these have a… unique flavour. Are these …” the handsome, sweaty handyman looked at him, eyes wide, “Crankysnaxx??? How ever did you know my favourite post orgasm snack?”
Aziraphale also bit into a cookie, his eyes going wide when he realised the Oreos were covered in his own sweet, sweet angel jizz. His precream had turned into full on cream… that went perfectly on Oreos. It was quite delicious and he was ever so pleased their esteemed guest also seemed to enjoy it.
They each munched through several Crankysnaxx (even Crowley, whose curiosity got the better of him). The creamy Oreos had a magical effect, acting as a powerful aphrodisiac.
“Ooo, my dingly is all tingly,” Aziraphale giggled.
“Never say that again,” Crowley warned, “but, yeah, I’m horny as hell.”
“I’m ready to please you both,” Shaftspouse announced, rubbing his hands together. “I’m your service top expert.”
The next few hours passed in more orgasmic bliss, until all three beings were wrung out in sweaty pleasure. They lay in a tangled heap of sweat and come and Oreo crumbs when there was a knock at the bookshop door.
“Mr. Fell? It’s Muriel. The door is locked.” The door rattled and the three of them schlorped to their feet, trying to stay upright on the now slimy floor.
“Oh my,” Aziraphale said. “I hadn’t realised we’d created so much jizz juice.”
The door rattled again. “I’ve got the chorizo!”
“Ah, just one moment, Muriel,” Aziraphale yelled so they could hear him through the door.
Crowley just smirked, a mix of angel, demon and handyman batter dripping down his lithe torso. They’d been swimming in the stuff apparently.
“Let me take care of this, Angel.” With a snap of his fingers they were all cleaned up though still quite naked.
“I must say, I’ve never had such a fun time servicing my customers before,” Shaftspouse said, shaking his money maker so his weiner flopped around at them.
“Well, we’ve both enjoyed your service. In fact, we’d be happy to offer you some chorizo and a little rest… then perhaps we could negotiate some additional… hammering?” Aziraphale’s voice was polite, but the waggle of his eyebrow was quite salacious.
“I do think I still need some pounding.” Crowley volunteered. “We never did take care of my crank problem.”
“Ooooohhohooooh. Why I’d be DELIGHTED to continue handling your cranks… the both of you. Though I could use a big meaty chorizo in my mouth if I’m going to have the energy to keep cranking all night long.”
“Right then.” Crowley snapped his fingers again and they were fully clothed.
Aziraphale wriggled a bit, something was off about his outfit, his normal tartan boxers didn’t quite feel… “Crowley, am I wearing satin panties?”
“Perhaps, we’ve all got something extra special to unwrap later.” Crowley was the one to waggle his most waggly eyebrow this time. He could already see in his mind’s eye what Aziraphale and that lumberjack of a handyman would look like later, now that they all wore silky pants under their trousers.
“It does feel so nice against my skin.” Shaftspouse was already stroking his bulging cock and his pert buttocks.
“Oh dear, we better eat quickly. I’ll let Muriel in and we’ll just stuff those sausages in quickly before sending them away again.
With another snap, the door was unlocked and the scrivener came through, arms full of bags and what looked like Spanish charcuterie.
Aziraphale plastered on a kind smile for them. “Muriel, thank you for your patience. That… ah mess from earlier was a bigger job than any of us expected.”
“Oh, it was no problem, I got all the chorizo right here, and it’s still nice and hot!”
“DID SOMEBODY SAY CHORIZO?” Mrs. Sandwich’s booming voice came from behind Muriel.
“Yes, Mr. Fell and Mr. Crowley and their handyman have gotten quite hungry working so hard all day in the bookshop, so I brought dinner. There is a lot of meat here and we’d be happy to share.” Muriel walked further into the shop, bags and bags of steamy, juicy, greasy meats in their hands.
“Oh, well, I’m not one to turn down a thick, spicy sausage, you know?” Mrs. Sandwich nudged Muriel’s shoulder and gave her a wink. “Though Shafty, my dear, I’ve been a.. missing… your.. special hot dog. You know how much I love a foot long.”
“Oh my lovely lady of the night, you know I’ve always got plenty of hot meat for you. If I recall, you really liked getting your mouth on my wienerschnitzel...”
“Excuse me, Mrs. Sandwich, but Shaftspouse is still under contract with us. After we down these frankfurters we’ll need him to get back to work.”
Mrs Sandwich raised her hands at them. “Of course, of course. Can’t leave a job half-done. I’m just going to snag myself one of these thick knockwursts to fuel me,” she grabbed a surprisingly large chorizo from one of the bags. “But you, Shafty, save some of your meaty salami for me, if you please, or at least a ride on that baloney pony. You know where to find me.”
With that, a thorough batting of her long eyelashes, and a slide of beef and pork in and out of her mouth, Mrs. Sandwich made her way back to the streets, hips undulating on her wake. Shaftspouse bit his lower lip as he watched her. “That’s one delicious tuna taco, right there.”
“I didn’t realise humans were so fond of these long meaty sticks,” Muriel said, holding up a solitary chorizo and wiggling it around. “Maybe I should try one, since you all like them so much.”
“Sausages of all kinds are quite delightful, my dear. I do like a kielbasa now and then.” Aziraphale encouraged while Crowley snickered.
“Okay, I’m going to do it, this long meat sausage is going to go right in my mouth, I can do it.” Muriel said with determination. They opened wide and slid the chorizo over their lips, taking a toothy, chomping bite, making the three chorizo sporting people in the book shop cringe. “That is scrummy! Now I see why you spend so much time with meat in your mouth! Everyone have some!”
After the food was had and Muriel was sent on their merry way with a ton of gratitude, Shaftspouse turned to the angel and demon pair with eyes full of mischief.
“I don’t know about you, but my hunger for chorizo is far from sated...” he purred. “I was thinking I could try rawdogging it this time around...”
Aziraphale felt his knees go weak. “I’ll say, I’d love to feed you mine, if you take these pesky clothes off my corporation.”
Crowley crossed the room to kiss one man-shaped being and then the other. “Can I watch?”
And so it came to be that an angel and a demon enjoyed the most serviceable topping they could have ever imagined. That fateful night in London, a happy trio of charcuterie enthusiasts came to spend their night playing hide the sausage, stuff the salami and ride the chunchullo.
THE END