Prince of Pumpkins, and cat!

This is the tale of how Malakel\'s cat came to make him blush and feel hot only by looking at him. How its eyes came to be lemon-colored images of an intimate knowledge. The cat\'s name was Xinan. Up until the previous Halloween, Malakel had been quite fond of him. But then, their relationship changed...

It all began rather innocently. There was no sign this Halloween would be any different from the last. Malakel had been out shopping for his and his father\'s meal: Turkey and vegetables, spices, bread and wine. It wasn\'t often his father got to eat things like that. Not often he could eat at all actually. In fact, Halloween was the only time of year his father could eat like an ordinary person. Probably because he was no ordinary person, but an angel of the realm of the dead. Which was the reason Malakel only got to see him on this special day, making their father-son bonding an annual ritual.

And it was all his idea...the thing about the pumpkin and the cat.

This particular Halloween when Malakel came home, put the groceries down and hung his keys on the hook by the door, his father had already arrived and sat on top of Malakel\'s kitchen cupboard, his legs crossed, bat-like leather wings folded. His long, silver-gray hair was a contrast to his smooth features, the young looking skin. Grey was no sign of age at all where he came from, but rather a color to take pride in, as Malakel\'s father, whose name was Malikiel, most certainly did. Just as he took pride in his long, curving black horns that crowned him and curled back over the top of his head. His eyes were a surprising blue, much like Malakel\'s in fact, despite the cat-like pupils. Malakel, however, looked very much human. Though his face had the sharp angles and intense gaze of his father, there was nothing particular about him giving away his unearthly heritage. He had his mother’s coloring: Raven hair and pale skin, just as any good witch. His hair was a little curly though, an unfortunate trait from a grandmother, and his lips were always a dark red color, making him look much like a pretty, male Snow White.

Today he was wearing his favorite coat; a shapeless thing made of colorful patches, a contrast to his father\'s elegant, earth colored wear, which was likely what was causing Malikiel to stare at him for moment, wrinkling his nose with disapproval before finally leaping off the cupboard to join his offspring on the floor.

\"That horrible coat would have given your mother a headache!\" the angel pointed with a long, dark nail. \"That aside, \" Malikiel smiled with sharp teeth, \"I am thrilled to see you, my son!\"

His voice became thick with emotion and the two of them stepped back and bowed low for each other before embracing and sharing a warm hug. The best of both worlds, as Malakel\'s mother would have said.

Happy to be with his much absent father, and thus in an obedient mood, Malakel removed his coat, after all the hugs and love was shared. Underneath, he wore only an orange shirt and black pants for the occasion. It wasn\'t often he got to dress up like that. The family dinners were rare and far between.

Malakel\'s mother had stepped into an obsidian mirror seven years ago, and no one had heard from her since. Likely she had gotten lost somewhere, stuck between the dimensions, but they did not know. On dark Halloweens, a brooding Malikiel would accuse her of having a fling with the serpents of the depths, as she was certainly not dead, they would have known if she was of course, Malikiel being what he was and all.

This year as the years before, he shook his head, sad: \"No...she is not with us,\" he said and answered his son\'s question. \"I will find a way to let you know, if she should arrive,\" he assured the young man. Malakel nodded, it was expected. Nevertheless would they have a nice Halloween together this year, as all the years before.

He had to admit he always looked forward to this day, as his life tended to be rather lonely. He didn\'t work, didn\'t have to. He had gotten this house, and all the gold that came with it from his mother. It was an old family estate, an old white painted house set in a circle of oaks. It had gardens with an old fountain, a bricked wall keeping the world outside. All the privacy witches could ask for, and room to perform any ritual undisturbed. Inside, the house was quite frankly a mess. Not because Malakel was untidy, but because it lay in the nature of the house. Despite him being a very careful, young man who got headaches if he couldn\'t find what he was looking for, generations before him had done their very best leaving his surroundings a maze of things and bits and ends.

Velvet curtains, heavy with dust, kept the daylight out and half of the rooms still had no electricity but half burnt wax candles, some of them shaped like cats and skulls, were scattered around on tables and shelves. Books were everywhere, ancient scrolls and jars filled with peculiar herbs and dried insects and roots. Colorful woven carpets covered the floors and in the living rooms were heavy, wooden furniture bursting with stuffing like overripe plums and heaped with pillows, stood by small polished tables. One drawer held his grandmother\'s collections of gemstones and talismans. On one wall hung his great-grandmother\'s favorite scrying mirror. On the sofa, amongst the pillows, an old aunt\'s stuffed cat.

Upstairs were the bedrooms, of which only one was in use now. His mother\'s purple boudoir stood as she\'s left it seven years ago, her black nightgown still lying on the bed. Even her potions were left half-made, untouched, up in the attic on her work bench. He hadn\'t moved anything, as if he was still waiting for her to come back, and maybe he was...

\"You have cut it again,\" Malikiel said and touched Malakel\'s hair that hung right below his shoulders. They were both standing by the old-fashioned stove, Malakel stirring the sauce, Malikiel with a glass of burgundy wine in his hand, watching his human son cook. He dipped his finger in the boiling fluid and tasted it. \"Fantastic!\" he commented. \"It\'s so amazing this...art of cooking!\"

Malakel smiled. \"It\'s not so fantastic when you\'ve grown up with it,\" he said and began preparing the vegetables. \"Mother always enjoyed cooking as well,\" he added.

\"But she was never as good as you are,\" Malikiel said honest and swung open the kitchen window, letting steam out and crisp, cold Autumn air inside.

\"Ah...Samhain,\" he smiled and sipped his wine, watched the gardens over the top of Malikiel\'s green kitchen herbs that sat on the grey wood of the window frame. The air outside was scented with woodsmoke, nuts and wet earth. The sky was dark blue and the red and orange leaves on the trees looked purple and black in the dark.

Malikiel caught sight of the pumpkins on the ground.

\"Will there be pie?\" he asked.

\"Yes,\" Malakel smiled and joined his father by the window. \"I harvested some for lanterns as well. But the big one...\" he pointed, \" I didn\'t have the heart to take it,\" he smiled softly. \"I have spent so much time taking care of it,\" he said, a little ashamed. \"I’ve taken much pride in seeing it grow so large...\"

Malikiel gave him a peculiar glance.

\"How ever did we get a gentle boy like you?\" he said quietly. His pupils contracted with emotion to a thin line. \"Not even an affair on the side with the serpents of the depths could explain this,\" he said lightly, knowing fully well any mirror would confirm the blood ties between the two of them. \"Though I wonder why you didn\'t get wings,\" he mused as he poured himself more wine.

\"So how is life this year?\" Malikiel petted Xinan who had entered the kitchen in search for food. The black cat purred and narrowed his eyes to slits. \"He says you are lonely,\" he continued and referred to the cat.

Malakel gave the feline an evil look.

\"He talks too much!\" he muttered and began digging through the kitchen drawers to the cat a snack.

\"Still not much interest for the arts I see,\" the dark angel spoke. \"Your aura hasn\'t changed much since last year.\"

Malakel shrugged. He knew what he was born with; he had some extra senses and didn\'t need matches to light a candle. He did the occasional spell, enough to get him by, on a day by day basis, but he never had the passion of the arts like his mother had and her mother before that. Which was odd, his mother had thought, since his father was so powerful. Yet the dusty books and strange smelling potions had never held the same fascination for him as for the others.

\"No... I prefer what I can feel,\" he said. \"I love working in the gardens and explore grandmother’s recipes. For cooking,\" he added with a little smile. \"I never enjoyed mother\'s lessons in magic much...\" He lifted the big bird out of the oven. Savored the warm, delicious scent of it. \"I don\'t need to know more than I do,\" he finished.

\"Yes,\" his father agreed thoughtful, \"but still... You have such a potential...\"

The fire was blazing in the hearth when the two of them seated themselves in red velvet chairs at a round table of polished wood. The table was illuminated by black and orange candles, baskets filled with the red, aromatic apples of Autumn, a sweet promise of Winter, stood between them. On the mantle sat small, carved pumpkins and branches of evergreen. The wine was red and plentiful. Some of it spiced with seven herbs and heated on the stove. Malakel broke the bread, Malikiel poured the wine.

\"To Life,\" he toasted.

\"Death,\" his son replied.

\"Speaking of life...\" Malikiel said when they put their glasses down. \"This house is much too big for one person... you really should have a companion or two. Someone to talk too, since you\'re not able to communicate with the cat,\" he didn\'t look at Malakel but focused on cutting the meat. Malakel had been waiting for this speech, it came every year, but he didn\'t really mind. It felt nice that someone cared about him. \"Since your mother so foolishly stepped into that mirror,\" Malikiel predictably continued, \"you have been left to your own devices and no one is nagging you out of the house, or take you places...\"

It was true, Malakel had very much been his mother\'s darling and went with her where ever she went.

\"I know,\" Malakel said solemnly. \"But it is not easy,\" he added. \"to find someone when you are not...quite human...\"

His father gave him a blank stare.

\"It is not easy...when you are never *among* humans,\" he corrected him. \"You are a handsome man,\" he said. \"Another witch for example, wouldn\'t mind that you had some alien blood in you.\" He lifted some green beans on his fork. \"Or a demon,\" he suggested. \"There are quite a few witches of demon breed in this world.\"

\"Yes...\" Malakel smiled. \" But mother used to say it was so passé for witches to couple with demons,\" he spoke affectionately, remembering her voice. \"She used to say the angels had much more class and much more power... That demons were to angels what farmers were to the lords.”

\"That was because she was in love with me,\" Malikiel chewed his potatoes, swallowed them down with wine. \"There are many nice witches of demon breed, \" he argued. \"One of them just might be the right one for you...and certainly wouldn\'t mind you being half-angel.\"

\"Ah...but I am fine,\" Malakel shrugged, \"I don\'t need anyone.\"

\"Of course you do!\"

\"I really don\'t!\" It was the same every year. \"I dreamt mother had become a Goddess in Africa,\" he changed the subject, it was tiresome in the end and nothing came of it. He\'d rather spend his precious time with his father discussing more worthwhile topics.

Malikiel nodded.

\"That could very well be,\" he said. \"And it would suit her much... If she has become that, she is likely trapped somewhere. Poor thing.\" he poured more wine. Malakel served them both more food and threw more rose incense into the fire. Xinan watched, stretched himself and yawned on a chair, watching them eat. They spoke of other things for a while.

Then Malikiel suggested: \"You could leave this realm, you have other options.\"

Malikiel was startled.

\"Do you think me so hopeless, \" he said, a little defensive. \"Is it so bad that I live by myself you would rather have me die?\"

Malikiel rustled his wings and moved a little uncomfortable on the chair.

\"No, no, I want you to be happy,\" he defended himself, pierced a piece of meat. \"In the other world you have me and your sisters. I am merely pointing out options for you. This world isn\'t the only world you have a claim on...\"

Malakel was a little annoyed, but it quickly melted as he knew this was just his father expressing his worry.

\"I will think about it,\" he said politely, yet he couldn\'t really see himself leaving all this behind: his house and his gardens, this world of light and dark.

\"Good,\" his father smiled happily with his cat eyes. \"And now...will there be pie?\"

The dark angel ate pie with the passion of one who only tasted food once a year. Malakel loved watching him eat. It was one of his fondest memories from childhood, watching his silver-haired father eat. The father that he had been forced to tell the curious world was a missionary lost in China, as that was the story his mother had made up.. Shifting realms might perhaps not be such a hopeless idea after all. At least a few things would be easier, and he had family there... but then, what if his mother came back? He asked Malikiel that.

His father nodded slightly.

\"That is true,\" he said. \"It would be bad if she came and you were gone. But then again, she can be lost in there for ages. She does love those mirrors,\" he said. And Malakel knew his father was thinking of when they had first met, on one of her many wanderings between the worlds. Twenty-five years ago, the young witch and the ancient angel, who already had six daughters to take care of. And now one son.

The wine consumed soon rose to their heads, somehow their family dinners tended to turn into slobbering feasts of emotional drunkenness. It was a part of life, and also catharsis in a way, making Malakel feel renewed when it was all over.

Now Malikiel looked his son in the eyes: \"What are the real reasons you live alone?\" he asked. \"And why have you no friends?\"

\"I have some,\" Malakel replied, thinking of his cousins who stopped by from time to time. \"As for love, \" he said, looking away. \"It is not just about me. I cannot ever recall having experienced someone taking that kind of interest in me,\" he said. \"I am not complaining but I think... maybe due to my genetics, the mixture... Maybe I have no such power over hearts,\" he said quietly.

\"You think you cannot be loved?\" the silver-haired angel pointed his fork at him before greedily penetrating another piece of pie. .

\"Yes,\" Malakel said. \"I think that is the essence of it.\" He drew his breath. \"I think, in the end that is why I am alone...\"

\"Not because you want to be, after all, then?\" his father smiled slightly.

\"No...\"

\"I figured as much...\"

Malakel swallowed hard. It was no fun laying this out for his father. What could he do anyway, being trapped in another dimension most of the year? Malakel certainly didn\'t want him to be worrying about his hopeless, lonely son. The solitude and the fruitless yearning had been Malakel\'s own weight to carry. He hadn\'t really wanted his father to know about it. It was his problem anyway, and his self-esteem as a man was hardly there at all. Now he swallowed hard.

\"Don\'t worry about it, father, \" he said. \"I can be alone. It doesn\'t bother me all that much!\" he smiled bravely.

\"Perhaps not,\" the angel said. \"But it is not true that no one falls in love with you,\" he finally put the fork down. \"All that you love, love you back,\" he said. \"For you love them so much... The vegetables in your garden for example...\"

\"Oh father,\" Malakel interrupted, feeling half-amused, half-irritated, \"I cannot love a vegetable, not like that!\" he appreciated his father\'s desire to soothe him, but the universal principles of love wouldn\'t comfort him much tonight.

Malikiel\'s gaze darted to some leftover corn on the table.

\"I sincerely cannot see why not!\" he stated and sipped more wine. \"Your pumpkin outside...\"

\"It\'s a fruit,\" Malakel said absentmindedly.

\"Never mind,\" the angel spoke. \"It loves you! And Xinan... I promised not to tell, but he is in love with you!\"

\"Xinan?\" Malakel\'s eyes went wide. \"But, he is a cat! And a boy! And a slut! I swear he has been with every female feline in the neighborhood!\"

\"Only because he can\'t have you...\" Malikiel\'s eyes glittered while Xinan\'s ears suddenly lay flat against his skull. He hissed at the angel before gliding down from his chair and wandering off, his whole body flat against the floor. \"Oh my, \" Malikiel said. \"Now he is angry that I told you.\"

Malakel stared at his father. Not quite sure what to say. His mind somehow refused to grasp the idea about Xinan secretly lusting for him. He was used to having the cat in bed with him for Goddess sake!

\"But the pumpkin,\" he said quietly, his lips feeling cold and stiff. \"You were joking about the pumpkin...?\"

\"Oh...I don\'t think so...\" Malikiel\'s face was a mask of drunken cheer. \"Let\'s go outside and I\'ll ask it!\" He rose swiftly and gathered his clothes about him. Wandering still with the glass in his hand and somewhat unsteady, leaning casually against the doorframe when they reached the main entrance to the house, and opened the door to the porch.

Malakel had decorated the porch with pumpkins but not carved them, he had thought it rather rude of him if he was to parade mutilated, lit corpses in front of the still living ones. Instead he had other kinds of lantern illuminating the cool night and the colorful pattern of Autumn leaves on the wet ground.

\"Do you call the pumpkin a prince?\" Malikiel said surprised, standing there silent, listening to the air.

\"Well, yes..\" Malakel said ashamed, kicking a few stray leaves on the porch. \"It was sort of...the prince of them all,\" he smiled. \"So big and beautiful!\" he said lovingly.

\"The pumpkin says that *you* are the Prince,\" Malikiel said solemnly.

Malakel shook his head confused.

\"But how can that be?\" he said. \"How can it like me?\"

\"Oh...you petted it, stroke it, cherished it and spoke lovingly to it, until its little pumpkin soul was inflamed with love for you, its maker.\" Malikiel was suddenly interrupted by Xinan, who passed them and hissed loudly at the angel again, wearing a grumpy expression. His whiskers hung down like an angry mustache. \"No, wait, kitten,\" Malikiel called. \"Don\'t go,\" he gestured with his glass. \"Stay and you will see something amazing!\"

Xinan stopped, wandered in circle a few times before finally making up his mind, sitting down by the porch.

Something changed and Malakel\'s heart began racing, he knew this feeling, the surge in his body. It was the feeling of magic building up. Never quite as powerful, quite as amazing as when his father did it. No human witch could ever compare...

\"I think you should take the love being offered to you,\" Malikiel said. \"I\'ll be inside, now you have fun!\"

Suddenly the earth surrounding the big, orange pumpkin seemed to ripple like water, ripple and rip, roots came undone, thrown in the air, and a geyser of black soil.

\"Pumpkin!\" Malakel cried, and heard Xinan mewl loudly. \"Pumpkin!\" He repeated and jumped down on the lawn, moving swiftly towards the poor pumpkin. \"Father!\" he cried horrified. \"Oh what are you doing to him? Why?!\" He ran as fast as he could, grass and dirt rained down on him now, being thrown up in the air by the powers that were at work. Loud creaking sounds filled the air, and Malakel felt sure that if the pumpkin could talk he would have screamed by now! \"Pumpkin!\" he cried again, protecting his eyes from the black rain with his hands, and then suddenly he tripped on a rock or a root, but no, he did not fall. For something strong and slick came to fetch him, lift him in the air before his body hit the ground.

\"Oh!\" Malakel hung by his feet from a vine. Yellow flowers blossomed on the thick stem. Malakel gave a startled outburst when suddenly swung through the air, through the rain of dirt and stones and seeds. Then he saw him! The eyes! And he went still in the grasp of the vine .

\"Pumpkin!\" he yelled, his mind momentarily blank.

He was quite a Prince! Created by Pumpkin flesh, soil and magic. He had a bright orange skin with a dark green pattern like vines, swirling and dancing on the thick surface. His almond-shaped eyes were a clear yellow color, like a newly lit flame, as his hair; a wavy mass of yellow strands, thick and beautiful. His features were even and pretty, his teeth white, but not made of bone. His feet were half-way buried in the soil yet and green leaves climbed on his thigh. His well-shaped orange body was that of an athletic young man, his fingers were long and with tiny, green leaves at the finger-tips. The long yellow nails, the green pattern like tattoos on his body; Malakel took it all in, startled enough he had to struggle to make sense of what he saw.

A large orange cock peeked at him from between the Pumpkin\'s legs, with a large and hairless, smooth-looking sack there as well. It shocked and dazed Malakel briefly wondered what was in there: seeds? Juices? Pumpkin held Malakel high up in the air, and then suddenly drew him close to his body, embracing him with branch-like arms. He smelled of pumpkin, fire and earth. Malakel was pressed close to his chest, ending up looking at a hard, green nipple.

Then a hand laced into his hair forced his head to look upwards and he found himself staring into the yellow fire of the Pumpkin\'s eyes. There was no white, nor black pupil, just that peculiar fire, and now his sculpted orange lips were kissing the young witch on the mouth. A soft tongue like slicked fruit-meat pushed its way into the cave of Malakel\'s mouth. He tried to cry out, but could not, his legs kicking wildly in the air, yet the Pumpkin Prince felt strangely familiar; he was the same creature, had the same radiating aura as the giant fruit he had been nursing and petting and caring for endlessly. And when the Pumpkin-man touched him again he could feel his own motions being mirrored by him, in the way his hands circled his back, the way his flowery vines stroke at his legs, tickled his thighs. It was the same way he had loved the fruit, caressed its thick skin.

\"Oh, Pumpkin, \" he breathed then. \"It really *is* you!\" he beamed. \"How beautiful you are!\" and he let himself be kissed again, more willingly this time. The yellow fire seemed to speak to him though his throat appeared unable. There was a warmth in there, in the animated life force raging inside of him, lit by an angel of death. The pumpkin\'s lips smiled into the kiss. Malakel\'s fingers laced in the yellow hair and his legs curled around the naked, orange body, feeling only slightly uncomfortable this was placing the creature\'s raging cock beneath his rear.

The vines, three or four in number, kept teasing him, playing up and down his legs, sneaking in under his shirt, tickling him with tiny leaves and flowers.

\"Oh!\" Malakel heard himself sigh. This was nice as well, having the pumpkin touch him back for once!

A mewing sound disturbed him though. He had completely forgotten about the cat! Had he survived the minor earthquake ok? Was he unharmed? Malakel abruptly turned away from he pumpkin to check on him, and had yet another surprise added to the first. It was no little cat with angry whiskers standing there. It was a broad-shouldered, black-haired young man with pale skin and slanted sulfur eyes. His fingers had sharp claws, his ears were those of a cat, and his tail long and slick. Xinan smiled at him with pointy fangs, oddly familiar, even in human form.

\"Xinan!\" Malakel burst out. \"What has happened to you?\"

The cat didn\'t answer but leaned his forehead on Malakel\'s hip, purring loudly into the night, almost so loud Malakel didn\'t hear the creaking sounds from the pumpkin-man moving. Then the vines under his shirt found his nipples and began caressing them, creating a smooth friction, sliding across the little nubs. He was ashamed to realize it didn\'t take much before the sensation became an erotic one. He supposed he was all too starved, hadn\'t been touched like that before. The cat\'s paw landed on his rear, open and exposed through the smooth fabric of his pants, sliding up and down the crack of it. Making him ache and sigh and hold on tighter to the pumpkin man, as if *he* was a savior from the naughty cat! With his big orange cock, green nipples and all!

He was all too vulnerable, Malakel thought, remembering nights of uneasy yearning and hunger for *someone*. Someone to come and release him from the longing he felt. Seemed that the someone had indeed arrived, with meat, skin and claws. Fur and large, almond shaped seeds. The pumpkin man claimed his lips in a kiss again, blinding him with the fire of his eyes. The green, swirling pattern of his skin made his face look ancient and tribal. Strangely erotic at that. He was not human, but he was pretending to be. And who said Malakel needed someone human? His mother had settled for a dark angel...

The cat\'s paws were squeezing his buttocks, and he could feel Xinan\'s breath through the fabric, blowing warm air on his private entrance. Malakel gave a loud complaining sound and twitched in Pumpkin\'s embrace. Clawing at his shoulders and grinding with his hips, suddenly possessed by the sweetest ache, his body was both flattered and taken by all this unexpected attention! The vines curled around his shoulders and down his back, effectively trapping him, gluing him to the Pumpkin\'s body. The creature\'s long fingered hand drifted down his side and hip, tugging at his clothing. The vines moved and caressed him, while the little cat clawed at his pants, effectively ripping it apart by the sound of it. It mewed, Malakel moaned and the Pumpkin man swayed on its roots.

The yellow hair of the Pumpkin brushed his shoulders, naked now as the orange shirt ripped apart and exposed his skin to the night.

\"Pumpkin!\" Malakel sighed deeply and offered his throat to the plant\'s wet mouth, letting it kiss and lick a trail of juices there.

The vines were drifting further down, tickling at his waist, stroking at his hip, undoing the buttons of his pants effortlessly, and pushing them down his over hips, his arms gently shaking Malakel like a precious fruit, to make him shed his extra skin. Strands of Pumpkin saliva hung between them, gluing the two of them together. Malakel moaned loudly when his own straining member was let loose from the tight confines, a hard, little squash in its own right by now, rubbing against the orange skin of Pumpkin\'s belly. Leaving clear, sticky trickles of pre-come on the fruit. He caught himself licking the green pattern, kissing a nipple. Gazing up at his Pumpkin\'s face, terribly beautiful, like a king of demons, looking back at him with his eyes of fire.

The vines were back, coiling around his arms, like serpents those vines, holding him tightly and brutally ripping him free from Pumpkin\'s body to lift him even higher up in the air. He realized the pumpkin was aiming for a different position, turning him around so he was facing the garden. The pumpkin\'s long arms locked around his waist from behind and he felt the orange cock, hard as a pumpkin and then some, pressed against his rear. Feeling utterly ashamed, yet horribly aroused he reached back and parted his buttocks for the throbbing cock, wriggling and stretching a little to make sure he was perfectly angled, letting a sigh of contentment fall when the juice-slick head of the orange member penetrated his tight ring of muscle. It was extremely arousing, hanging there, held by vines and pumpkin arms, angled so his rear connected with the cock, and looking down from his position, he saw the sweet face of his cat looking up at him. He was being held so high up in the air by Pumpkin, Xinan could stand straight up beneath him. Granted, the cat was not a tall man, but not short either. Malakel briefly wondered how far it was down to the ground, how badly it would hurt to fall.

Xinan was still looking up at him with a disturbingly wicked expression. He wasn\'t a very elegant cat, rather short and sturdy, and as was his human form: His heart-shaped face was broad and clever looking, his body looked muscled and hard. His shoulders broad and his legs short. But his hair hung thick and pitch-black down his back to his hips, and the feline sweetness was there, as his charm. Now the cat-boy smiled mischievous at him with shining eyes and pointed fangs while watching him struggle on the pumpkin cock.

\"Don\'t laugh, \" the young witch panted, \"it is good!\" he explained to the cat.

The pumpkin made a soft earthy sound behind him, as he slid his member inside. Using his arms and vines, he began moving Malakel up and down his cock. He was a little rigid and not at all that bendy, being a plant and all, so Malakel assumed this was the best option, if pleasure was to be had and ecstasy achieved. And pleasure was indeed to be had. Not only did he have the orange rod piercing his rear, the taut sack slapping against his backside, but the cat decided it wanted to play too: His paws closed around Malakel\'s hip-bones and the naughty creature began licking at Malakel\'s cock, following its bobbing movements with his head before finally parting his lips, taking the hardness inside. All slick and warm in there. Sucking friction...

\"Oh no...no...not that!\" Malakel hissed and sighed, tossed with his head, struggling against the vines. Each time the pumpkin lifted him to slide up his cock, his own was forced deeper into the cat\'s throat. The very naughty feline was occupied playing with his own stiff organ while sucking him off. Fondling the hard pink cock lovingly with one of his paws. The other was still holding on to Malakel\'s hip.

Prostate rubbed and cock sucked it was obvious the pleasure could not last for long. Screaming, panting, he let his body move with their movements, ride with their rhythm. The large cock impaling him, filled him so nicely, slid so smoothly in and out, the cat tongue was licking and teasing his flesh while he swallowed it down, velvety ears and black hair buried between his thighs.

\"God! Goddess!\" he yelled as he spilled salty milk down the cat\'s slick throat. \"Lovely!\" he muttered and threw his head back, rode on the waves, completely lost. And then Pumpkin came in an explosion of spurting, clear juices and seeds, meat and rough skin. The pumpkin man was falling apart, torn to pieces by the orgasmic impact. Bits and chunks of him flew through the air and like a reversed Cinderella, the sensuous man was no more, only crumbling vine and exploding fruit. The seeds were everywhere, showering the witch who instantly fell towards the ground, pants around his knees, clear liquid running between his thighs.
He was only just beginning to think about how it would probably hurt a lot when his body his the ground, when the cat with the clever tongue came to his rescue and Malakel\'s body was caught by strong paws.

\"Oh, thank you,\" Malakel breathed when they tumbled to the ground. The soil was slick with pumpkin meat, Malakel tried to rise but was dragged down by the cat.

\"Xinan!\" Malakel tried to tell him off, slipping in the remains of his late lover and falling to the ground again. The cat wasted no time then but quickly climbed on top of him, pressing his belly to the earth. With quick, sure motions he hooked one arm under Malakel\'s body and jerked his hips off the ground, opening him up. The cat\'s pink penis slipped into the slicked hole of his rear without an effort, and the surprisingly delicate little feline began pumping eagerly in and out. He bent himself over the young witch and his pink tongue began lapping at his throat. The long dark hair fell down over Malakel\'s shoulder, gracing his skin with smooth slickness. The cat was purring loudly in his ear. His whole body was vibrating, causing Malakel\'s to vibrate too, and the cock inside of him...

\"Xinan,\" Malakel breathed. \"Please...\" but he didn\'t quite know if he asked him to continue or to stop. The surprise had quickly been replaced by pleasure, as the cat\'s adventures in the neighborhood had obviously made him rather skilled in the area, bringing him pleasure with every stroke. The cat felt soft and warm and nice against Malakel\'s body, and he came quietly. Just a short mew as he spilled his cream in the fruit juices already filling Malakel\'s rear.

\"Oh!\" Malakel said, almost disappointed now, that it was over. His hand involuntarily drifted down to his cock. He had become hard again now, while being taken by the cat. His hand closed around the shaft, and to his surprise Xinan\'s clawed paw closed on top of his, helping him. He motioned for Malakel to turn around on the ground, and doing as he was bidden, they continued to pleasure him together. The hand and the paw moved up and down his cock, while the broad, angled face of the cat-boy leaned down over the witch\'s, kissing him softly on the lips, then harder, adding tongue. Malakel parted his lips and let the cat come inside. Their tongues played so well together, such a tingly, sweet dance. Malakel groaned softly and spilled himself over their joined hands. The sulfur eyes blinked with something resembling amusement. Then he held Malakel through the sweet rolling of the aftershocks. Held him and kissed him, on his face and neck. He picked a few seeds from between Malakel\'s thighs, he assumed they had slid out there from his rear on the trickle of juice and semen. The cat threw them into the garden and continued to kiss and stroke him calm.

\"Thank you,\" Malakel whispered. The cat looked awfully smug then, when he rose and reached out his paw to help the witch to his feet. Malakel took it gratefully. Aimlessly trying to get his clothes in place. The pants finally slipped over his hips again, but he could feel the night air on his skin where it had been ripped. He had claw marks on his thighs and buttocks, was still shivering and dizzy from the orgasmic bliss. Now he leaned on the nice cat that tussled his hair with unexpected affection. Kissed his man again and gently freed himself from their embrace.

\"Later...Lover,\" the cat said in a hoarse voice that probably hadn\'t been used to speak before. Then, with a soft smile, he trotted off on silent feet between the oaks. Going his own way, doing what cats do, Malakel supposed...

He wished Xinan had stayed, though. He suddenly felt utterly alone...

But then again he had a visitor, hadn\'t he? And wouldn\'t be alone for long! A visitor to whom he most definitely owed a curse or two after this spectacle!

\"So much for having an angelic father,\" he muttered to his absent mother while walking across the lawn towards the house. \"Just great! Next year he\'ll probably have the whole fruit garden gathered for a gang bang...Or the strawberry jam I love so much!\" he staggered his way through the darkness on shivering legs. But he couldn\'t deny he felt good, relieved, and better in mind and body than he could recall having been for ages. He probably needed it, he figured. He blushed and massaged his rear carefully with one hand as he went. He felt more than sore, he felt raw.

He found Malikiel in the living room looking in old photo albums from when Malakel was a child. The wine was finally gone, and he had made himself some black tea. Malakel\'s blue teapot stood steaming on the table in front of the angel, looking all familiar and cozy. As if he hadn\'t just been fucked by a pumpkin-and a cat-at all.

Malakel fastened his gaze accusingly on his horned father.

\"Do you know...what those... things...did to me?\" he asked and arched his brow. His orange shirt was torn he saw now, hanging in shreds from his shoulders.

\"But what did you expect?\" Malikiel returned his gaze calmly. \"They had one night in the flesh to make you happy... Of course they would go for the sex! Xinan is probably normal by now as well.\" He calmly turned the page. \"Oh you were so cute when thirteen,\" he smiled. \"All those spots and the hopelessly long legs...\" Then he caught his son\'s expression and instantly became serious, though his eyes were twinkling with amusement.

\"Maybe this will make you finally read up on the spells when the horror is gone,\" he said. \"And you wish your furry lover back.\" His smile widened and his eyes glittered. \"The Pumpkin Prince however...I don\'t think we can bring him back!\" he sipped at his tea.

\"I suppose you want me to say thank you?\" Malakel said hoarsely, still standing by the door.

\"No, not at all...\" Malikiel, angel of death, spoke. \"Tea?\" he asked his son.

Malakel shrugged and went into the kitchen to find a cup.

\"Do you have sugar in there?\" he called to his father.

\"No, just honey...\"

\"Oh well,\" Malakel said to himself. \"Honey is fine...it will do.\"


The End

-Original artwork for this story can be found here:
http://www.livejournal.com/users/camillaspace/61799.html