"Nnh," is all the utterance Aziraphale can make for a moment, enjoying the myriad sensations, Crowley playing with his cock, writhing beneath him, the delicious rhythmic constrictions. When he'd had the notion that it might be nice to "do" something with Crowley in this shape, he hadn't really thought it would be this nice.

"I, er," he says breathily, squirming a little. "I'm not sure." He rubs his hand over one of Crowley's odd little attachments, thoughtfully, as though perusing the wares. He's not sure he wants to try getting his mouth around it, but it's nice to touch.

Is Crowley asking for instruction, or suggestions? Aziraphale does like to instruct, from time to time. "I'd like you to... make me make you come," he says, diligently setting it up as convolutedly as possible. "First one, then the other, if that's how it works." He gives Crowley a little encouraging squeeze, a bit of suggestion there, to keep up with the whole business with the tail. Aziraphale fancies that he might like that enough as an act all on its own, but - maybe some other time.

"I," he carries on, his breathing somewhat labored, "think I should be made to wait. And then - " his breath catches and he strains back momentarily as the thick musculature of the tail presses in around him, come now, got to rally and finish this proposal somehow, " - I... I should like to come across your chest."

He blushes quite a bit at that. "You know, in the moonlight and all," he finishes lamely.