An Irregular Magic Show

The Park

It was a dark and stormy Tuesday night as Dumbledore sat at his office desk at his wizard and witch school. Lightning crackled and the thunder roared as he could feel the sleep creeping behind his eyes. "No," he thought, "I have to get this done before my 5th years can start their tests." Still with determination in his mind, he could not help but feel sleep cover him like a blanket. 

"Ok, I know what I need to do." He got up and walked over the bookcase that stood embedded into the west wall of his office, there he pulled a small red book to reveal a hidden staircase. He treaded down the cold stone stairs towards what he hated, but loved the most. A small tire stood in a cold dank room, about the size of a golf cart tire. He knew what had to be done. He took a sharp breath and knelt beside the tire, and with a quivering hand grazed the rubber. 

Just like that he heard birds chirping, the warmth of a sun, and sprinklers ticking away in the background. He made it. He was at The Park. Taking in the scenery he knew all too well, he turned to see the large house that housed The Park employees, but more importantly, The Park manager. With a confident, yet cautious sigh, he trotted up the wooden stairs of the house and rang the doorbell. A tall ape-like creature answered the door, a stern disapproving look plastered on his face. "You here for Benson?" he asked. With a small nod, Dumbledore was guided inside with a small wave of the apes hand. "He is upstairs in his office," the ape-man said. Dumbledore waved his hand for a sort of thanks and maneuvered his way up the creaky staircase as he had done plenty times before. He reached to dark oak door of the managers office and firmly knocked three times. There was a pause, and from the other side, a whimper of a "come in" was heard. The door opened and inside an almost empty office, with nothing but a desk, two chairs, and a plant in the corner, stood The Park manager, Benson. 

"What are you doing here, we don't have another meeting scheduled until Saturday."

"I was getting tired, and I needed to get my mind off grading papers before I succumbed to the darkness of sleep." Dumbledore edged his way towards Benson.

"No, I can't, we need to stick to our schedule, I have a meeting with my two slacker employees in half an hour."

"Then I will make it quick." Dumbledore reaches down and places his hand on Benson flat bottom. Benson quivers as he knows this isn't right, but he can't stop himself from the pleasure that is coming up and rattling his gumballs. A slight moan escapes from Bensons lips.

"I can't do this Albus, not at work." 

"Oh, but it has already started." Dumbledore lowers his head and connects his lips with the delicate glass lips of Bensons'. Benson raised his hands to stop him, but as his hands touch Dumbledore's chest, he can feel the beating of his heart, and Benson can't help but to be trapped in his man's intoxicating touch. 

Benson, having become completely defenseless, starts to push back into Dumbledore. Having total control over his prey, Dumbledore lays Benson on the desk. "You know how I like to see you."

"Yes sir," Benson says as he pulls the blonde wig from the bottom of the desk drawer, along with some eyeshadow and some bright red lipstick. After dolling up, he flings the makeup away and the two men connect at the mouth again. Becoming impatient, and his member becoming enlarged, Dumbledore begins to make his way to the square slot on Benson's front side. 

"Are you ready?" Dumbledore whispers in Benson's ear. Not saying a word, Benson nods. Dumbledore pulls his throbbing disco stick out of his pants and pushes it into Benson's open slot. Being open like the whore he is, Benson had no problem fitting all 23cm of Dumbledore's sausage into him. Loud moans escape from both parties as steam rises from Benson. He could feel all his gumballs moving around in his glass head. Dumbledore could feel them too, only adding fuel to his fire. Reaching the top of his mountain, Dumbledore releases his magic seeds into Benson, making his gumballs a little more whiter than before. 

Knowing he is fully awake, Dumbledore zips and leaves as he has done many times before. Benson should be used to it by now, but he will never get used to feeling this way. As he puts the wig away, he hears a melodic voice behind him. "Benson, when did you become so white?"