WINGS OF LUST
Professor Quirrell had always had, shall we say, odd tastes. He had never much cared for the company of women, nor for men for that matter. It was as if nothing could possibly satisfy his raging desire to reach sexual nirvana. Men and women were mere playthings to him, not worth his illustrious seed.
It was a dark, crisp, fall night. The kind of night where you can feel the energy crackling through the air, caressing you, rubbing you in all the right places. It had been a rough day in his Defense Against the Dark Arts class. That boy, Dean Thomas, with his dark dark skin, he had caused quite a ruckus. His skin was black, but not nearly as black as the hatred that Professor Quirrell bore towards his students. He had always held a grudge against Albus for integrating the school.
"That damn negro loving son of a troll!" He shrieked into the night. Somewhere, Hermione shuddered in pleasure. Quirrell could tell that she did. He had... telepathic powers! Sometimes, he could even control other people to do his bidding. Quirrell smirked, obviously pleased at what he had done.
But despite his ability to be with anyone he wanted to be with, Professor Quirrell was lonely. Never once had his raging lust been sated. Not by Hermione, the Patil sisters, Ron Weasley, Winky the House Elf, or even the wise touch of Minerva McGonagall. None of these had quenched his thirst for a a damn good fucking.
Professor Quirrell continued his stroll around the Hogwarts grounds. It was getting late, and he knew he needed to make his way back to his chambers soon. He smiled, looking forward to the Rocky Road ice cream and the bondage films he was going to view. His favorite was called "Cornelius' Fudge." Needless to say, it was... mildly erotic.
He was just passing by Hagrid's hut. Sometimes, the large man liked to borrow some films from Quirrell, and he wanted those borrowed pornos back. He knocked his slender, supple hand on Hagrids big, hard, wood... door. But alas and lackaday! Nobody answered! Quirrell thought that Hagrid must be with Flitwick. The two of them had always had an insane amount of sexual tension, and Quirrell knew that the two of them had been "more than friends" for quite some time now.
"Oh well, I'll just walk inside and take them back! Maybe leave a note, maybe... pee on his rug!" He shrugged as he walked inside the musty old hut.
Hagrid had not been keeping his house tidy. Not at all. Well, thought Quirrell, He always was a dirty man... He looked around, and noticed what looked like a magazine that was protruding from under Hagrid's bed. He bent down, careful not to let his turban fall off and picked it up. It was the most recent issue of "Half-Giant Hotties: The big babes of the Wizarding World!" Quirrell was sure that Hagrid had used his wand quite a few times while looking at this. But he was losing focus, it was the pornos that he wanted.
After a thorough investigation of Hagrid's small quarters, Professor Quirrell could still not locate the erotic videos that he had come for. With a sigh, he resigned himself to a night of blandness and arson. He knew that if he didn't get his fix of naked persons, he would inevitably set fire to the Owlry. Hopefully Cho Chang was there, that stupid bitch.
Suddenly, he heard a majestic rustling from the back yard. Then, an emotional and beautiful squawk. He peeked outside and beheld the most beautiful creature he had ever laid eyes upon. It was... BUCKBEAK! The hippogriff's iridescently soulful eyes gazed at him, looking very much like limpid tears.
Come to me... Professor Quirrell swore he could hear it whisper to him, it's voice a deep chocolate baritone. He could do nothing but oblige. His feet, adorned with the finest erotic slippers shuffled slowly towards the semi-sexy beast.
Yes... that's it, you big sexy man... I've been waiting for you.
"How...how... did you know who... I am?"
I have always known you, Quirinus Quirrell! Buckbeak squawked loudly, causing the Professor to stumble backwards.
"You...you're...be..be...beautiful!" Professor Quirrell's stutter was coming back to haunt him, like the ghosts of all of the muggles he slaughtered. Like that one girl, Kristina Hall. She begged for death before then end! Quirrell killed her the most.
Of course I am! And whenever Hagrid is away, I seduce the unwitting inhabitants of this school! And now I will seduce you, Quirinus Quirrell! Buckbeak reared up on his hind legs, revealing a strong, feathery chest. The Professor swooned, realizing that maybe this was just the experience he needed. He quickly removed all of his clothing, save the large, purple turban that hugged his head. His body shuddered in the brisk autumn air, and a maple leaf fell and landed in his hand... erotically. Buckbeak seemed to smile wickedly, though of course that notion was ridiculous, he had no lips with which to smile!
Yes, your body will make quite the nice little morsel, now won't it? Buckbeak made suggestive motions with his pelvis. Quirrell was now standing at attention, as it were, enthralled by the sight of this majestic animal. Buckbeak spread his... lusty wings and wrapped them tightly around Quirrell. The downy coat kept the Professor's body warm and he felt... safe.
Then, it began.
It was a flurry of feathers and sweat. Blood and tears and bodily fluids. Buckbeak, being the more dominant of the two, managed to get Quirrell on his hands and knees, and proceeded to fornicate with him. With each thrust, Quirrell felt his body become warm and he felt his insides turn to pure ecstasy. It wasn't long before the Hippogriff released himself within the confines of Quirrell's most sacred places. He was spent, physically and emotionally.
But Professor Quirrell was not done yet. He took advantage of Buckbeak's tired state and wrestled him to the ground, his turban becoming loose in the process. Buckbeak tried, albeit halfheartedly, to escape, but he knew he wanted it just as much as the man did. Buckbeak gently caressed Quirrell's head with one claw, and accidentally knocked off the turban.
"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING, YOU MOTHER FUCKER?" Quirrell shrieked into the night once more, and once more, he felt Hermione's pleasure.
Then, Quirrell's head turned around, revealing the Dark Lord Voldemort's face!
"Howww dare you awaken me, you simpleton?"
"D..dark Lord! I... I was just..."
HE WAS JUST HAVING SEX WITH ME!
"Havin ssssssex with this Hippogriff, were we, Quirrell?" Voldemort looked angry, but mildly aroused.
"It was... an act of passion!" Suddenly, Quirrell got an idea. "Say, Voldemort... Buckbeak is big enough for two to take a ride!" He winked knowingly.
"Yesssssssss... It has been a while since I've gotten any. Not since Bathilda Bagshot."
But of course, Dark Lord Voldemort! You may join us!
They resumed their fornication. Rampantly. Again, it was a flurry of wingbeats and groans. Voldemort used his parseltongue in more ways than one. Voldemort's narrow eyes widened until you could see the red whites.
"Oh..." Voldemort's pulsating member took on a greenish tint. "They must call you mudblood!"
Why is this?
"Because you're all sorts of dirty!" Voldemort hissed, his heartbeat slowly starting to skip. "You've been a naughty hippogriff!" Voldemort giggled like a Japanese schoolgirl. "But don't worry, my wand will short you out." He pulled out his wand and moved towards Buckbeak slowly. He inserted it roughly into Buckbeak's most sacred crevice.
Buckbeak moaned in pleasure. Voldemort whispered, "Avada Kedavra..." Buckbeak died instantly.
"M... my Lord! Are we... done then?" Quirrell addressed Voldemort.
"Oh no, fuzzy little man-peach, we're just getting started!"