Dracledore

"Draco Malfoy," Professor Dumbledore said sternly, catching up to the blonde boy in the hallway. "Follow me to my office, please."

"P-Professor?" Draco stammered, wondering what bad thing he'd done to deserve a private meeting with the headmaster of Hogwarts.

"Chop chop," Dumbledore said, snapping his fingers. "I don't have all day, you know." Draco began to speedwalk after the professor, whose deep blue robes swept the marble floor. The two of them reached the gold-statue-flanked entrance of Dumbledore's office. The old man stroked his beard and looked at Draco with an indecisive expression on his face.

"S-Sir," Draco said worriedly, wondering if the headmaster had finally gone senile. "You have to say your password to get into your office, r-remember?"

"Hairy penis," Dumbledore whispered his password, embarrassed. Draco choked on his own saliva as the painting swung into the entrance. He followed the professor into his office and up onto the golden staircase. They soon reached the office, where Dumbledore turned to face Draco.

"I understand you've been feeling low lately?" Dumbledore prompted the blond boy, whose eyes widened.

"How did you know?" he asked, sounding scared.

"Your mother told me," Dumbledore sighed, reaching out to stroke Draco's slicked back, silver-blonde hair. "Draco, Draco. When will you ever learn? I care more about you than you might think."

"It's all this stress that's getting to me," Draco mumbled softly, the old man's hand on his head surprisingly comforting. "Just because my father's a Death Eater doesn't mean I want to be one… not to say I don't want to…" He blinked up at Dumbledore, tears making his colorless gray eyes glisten. "You understand, don't you?"

"I understand," Dumbledore nodded solemnly. He pulled Draco closer, so the boy could rest his head on the man's shoulder. "What you need, my boy, is release."

"Release?" Draco asked, his voice muffled against Dumbledore's robes.

"Yes, release. Sexual release, to be more specific." Draco jolted away from the headmaster's touch and stared, open-mouthed.

"S-sexual… did you say sexual?" Draco stammered, not sure what to think.

First "hairy penis," and now sexual release? He thought, bewildered. What kind of man is Albus Dumbledore, really?

Dumbledore smiled mysteriously and stroked Draco's inner thigh gently. The movement elicited a shiver of desire in the boy, and his resistance faded completely. He groaned softly.

"What was that?" Dumbledore said mischievously. "Moan for me, Draco Malfoy."

Draco obeyed, and Dumbledore's face seemed to soften with want.

"Harder, faster, Harry, oh, faster!" Draco muttered without thinking. Dumbledore's hand began to move faster inside the jeans Draco was wearing under his dark Hogwarts robes.

"Louder, Severus," he panted. "I want to hear you scream my name." Draco forced his eyes open to meet Dumbledore's blue ones. The headmaster gave Draco his signature I'm-your-headmaster-and-I'm-giving-you-a-hand-job-while-thinking-of-your-Potions-professor-this-is-perfectly-normal look. Draco shot him his infamous shut-up-and-keep-stroking-my-cock look back.

Fawkes the phoenix squawked, making Dumbledore jerk his hand backwards in surprise. Draco groaned in pleasure at the sudden movement and released his seed all over the front of the old man's robes.

"Nicely done," Dumbledore commented casually, looking down at the white fluid.

"Thanks," Draco muttered, his body shaking slightly as he floated down from his post-orgasm ecstasy.

"Semen like that goes for 2 Galleons a quart on Knockturn," Dumbledore said, giving Draco a rough estimate. "Some infertile witches go completely desperate to create new little witches and wizards. Such a handsome boy like you, his DNA is valuable stuff."

Not knowing with what exactly to respond to that, Draco blinked, shook off the image of Hermione and Lavender getting into a catfight over a pint of his cum, and thanked Dumbledore for the hand job.

"My pleasure, boy," the headmaster said jovially, bowing his head. Draco rose to leave, and Dumbledore clucked his tongue.

"I'm sorry," the old man said slowly. "I didn't make myself clear the first time. By 'my pleasure,' I meant 'you have to give me a blow job in return.'" Draco gaped at him, but got to his knees when he realized Dumbledore wasn't joking and opened his mouth.

"And that's why they call me Old Cumbledore," the professor said, satisfied, as Draco removed his mouth from the headmaster's lap.